If, by any chance, you see Salty the dockside diesel on his way along the Falmouth Branch and making a rare run away from Falmouth docks, you will see him running towards the small harbour at Newham. This community was the old site of Truro, and where the town's first railway station was located.
However, the goods he is delivering aren't going there. These goods are being delivered to a small village called Calmenick, which sits alongside the line. This small community suffers from poor road access, as many towns in Cornwall do, and as a result the railway has become something of a local lifeline for the community. Safe to say the locals are always glad to see a train of wagons, full of supplies for them. And these supplies were vitally important considering the recent snowfall. It was so severe that snowblowers had been brought down from Scotland to help.
One morning, Sunny was up bright and early. She was busy baking cookies for her friends, but it wasn't going very well. The countertop looked a mess, and something clearly wasn't right.
Argyle wandered in, yawning as he did so. "Morning, Sunny. How are- good grief. What happened here?"
Sunny turned around, some batter and a bit of icing on her face. "This is not going at all well."
Goldie then arrived, having just powered up her phone. Upon seeing her daughter she suppressed a chortle. "Morning, Sunny! Are we playing at being clowns?"
"I'm trying to make my friends' favourite cookies for Christmas!" Sunny replied. "But they didn't supply me with any recipes so I'm kinda having to wing it and guess what might be in them. I mean, who eats key lime at this time of year?"
"People in Key West?" Goldie suggested.
"Apart from them," Sunny answered. "It also seems Pipp and Zipp really like stuff that mixes peanut butter and bananas for some unfathomable reason-"
"MY BANANAS!" said a voice outside.
"That wasn't funny in January and it isn't funny now." Sunny sighed. "Or a marshmallow citrus crumble. This is hopeless."
Argyle put his hand on her shoulder. "Sunny, I know how much your friends mean to you, but there's more this time of year than baked goods and confectionary. Come to think of it I could stand to lose a few pounds, but I know they'll understand."
That last word gave Sunny an idea. "Thanks dad." She grabbed a cloth and some other things. "Anybody want to help me clean up?"
Later that day, Sunny set off into the snow and arrived at Grandma Figgy's house. It was a nice bungalow set in a community away from the railway line. Sunny stepped forward and knocked on the door.
Grandma Figgy answered it. "Hello, Sunny. How can I help you?"
Sunny smiled awkwardly. "I was wondering if I could borrow the recipe for the marshammlow citrus crumble cookies Hitch likes?"
Grandma Figgy looked back. "Sunny, I can't just give you the recipe; it's a family secret!"
Sunny's face fell.
"No, don't look so sad. I can't give you the recipe... but I can show you how to bake them yourself!"
"You will?" Sunny said. "Thank you so much!"
After several hours of baking and trial and error, the duo had a batch ready to go. Well, it was Sunny doing most of the trial and error. She'd taken notes on her phone when Grandma Figgy wasn't looking as how to reproduce the recipe as made here.
Thankfully, acquiring the others had been a lot easier. She had also visited Isaac earlier in the day, and he had given her the recipe. Lady Haven had done the same, simply emailing it to her (the recipe made sense- it was fairly well known that neither Lord nor Lady Haven could cook, hence why they hired a cook).
Sunny had just gotten back in through the door with her victory when suddenly her phone buzzed. She raised it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Sunny? Ah, good, you're there. There's some post that we left behind by mistake that needs to be taken to Calmenick, so could you and Salty deliver it?"
"On my way!" Sunny put the things down and headed back out. The cookies could wait until later.
Before long, the pair were on their way up the track. "It's a cold one!" Salty said.
"You can say that again!" Sunny replied.
"It's a co-"
"Not literally."
Salty laughed. "Well, this reminds me of the old sea breezes. They'd often lash Southampton Docks something fierce! Good thing there are no branches to scape my light!"
As they arrived at Penwithers Junction, they were surprised to see the signal at red. The train came to a stop at the light, and Sunny leaned out of the cab. "What's going on?" she asked a track worker.
"There's been a snowslide on the Newham Branch," a worker explained. "There's a helicopter on its way from the Coast Guard, and Porter will be arriving with supplies from Truro shortly. You'd best get Salty fitted with a snowplough."
Later on, Porter arrived. His train was loaded with useful supplies. There was a coach for the workmen, a flatbed with a bulldozer on it, and several trucks loaded with warm supplies and clothes. "Hello Salty!" he said. "Didn't expect to be doing a rescue today!"
"Well, life can be like waves sometimes," Salty replied. "Unpredictable."
"Well, let's get these two trains joined, then we can be out of the cold."
The two formations were pushed together in no time, and the very odd cavalcade set off. As access to the runround loop at Newham war blocked, Porter remained on the back to pull the train back to Penwithers Junction, and Salty was leading down the branch. Once they had arrived at the blocked section of track, they saw the Coast Guard helicopter dropping supplies to the villagers.
"I hope none of the supplies hit the people!" Izzy said.
"Why would that happen?" Porter asked.
"I'm just referencing a goof, that's all."
Porter looked to the camera. "Sometimes it's best just not to ask."
Soon the bulldozer was also set to work, clearing the terrain with the heavy blade that moved the snow aside effortlessly. And Sunny got involved in helping to distribute the supplies to the villagers, who seemed very happy to see her.
"Well done, everybody!" called an important person. "We'll have the supplies to the general public in no time."
"You're the best Santa Claus the community has ever had!" said a child.
"What's a Santa Claus?" Porter asked.
"It's a film, isn't it?" Izzy asked.
Sunny glanced around. "I'll explain once the children are firmly out of earshot. But the quick version is he's a jolly old man who drops presents down chimneys."
"What if you have a bricked up fireplace?" Porter asked.
"That's a good point, actually," Sunny conceeded. "My best guess is he teleports inside the house."
That evening, Sunny got to work on baking the cookies. It did not entirely go to plan, as it turned out some details were either nonsensical or had been transcribed incorrectly.
And why did Isaac specify she had to throw things over her left shoulder? Wasn't that wasting flour?
This was all very strange. She eventually succeeded in making something that vaguely resembled the cookies, and then placed them in a tin so that they wouldn't be eaten. She then dropped off to bed.
The next morning, Sunny awoke to the sound of a brass band playing in the distance, and the sound of ringing things in the distance.
"It's Christmas Day?!" she exclaimed, and then checked her calender. "Oh. It's only the 22nd." She got out of bed and got ready for the day before heading outdoors to start the day.
What she found in the town centre amazed her. There was a massive Christmas Tree in the square, and the tree was decorated so brightly it produced its own light. Boxes and presents sat below the tree and looked very magnificent indeed.
"Where did all this come from?" she asked, in confusion.
Izzy looked excited. "Maybe it WAS Santa Claus!"
Just then, the familiar sound of a brass band started again, and the band appeared around the corner. And carolers, dressed in their finest Victorian clothes, came around the corner too. And a very important woman too. Sunny recognised her as the Mayor of Calmenick.
"We, the people of Calmenick," she said, "would like to thank Sunny Starscout, Izzy Moonbow, Salty the Diesel, and Porter the Steam Engine, and the rescue personnel of the Coast Guard for their work in digging our village out of that snowdrift. Without you, we'd all be blocks of ice by now." She turned to the choir and brass band. "And a One, Two, Three, Four!"
Just then, the brass band launched into a familiar tune.
"For they are jolly good fellows, for they are jolly good fellow/
For they are jolly good fellows, and so say all of us!"
"I guess Christmas really did come early," Izzy said quietly.
Sunny, however, knew what this meant. And her heart beamed with pride.