Thomas Saves The Day

This is the non-technical version of
Thomas to The Rescue on my other blog.

It was the morning of the Railway’s Big Gala Day, and Thomas was resting in his shed with Annie and Clarabel. Today was his day off, and Thomas wanted a lie in. But then the Portly But Not Morbidly Obese Controller entered the shed, munching on a bacon and egg cob.

“Thomas man, wake up, I’m reet in it.”
“What’s up?” asked a startled Thomas.
“Aw, man – Victor the Visiting Engine and Gareth The Guest Engine haven’t turned up for me gala, like. Nee bugger can agree track access charges with Notwork rail, so Notwork are not working and the engines aren’t coming!”
“Oh dear me,” said Thomas. “What are you going to do then?”
“Well, I know its yer day off, but ah need ya to work.”
Thomas’s face fell. He was tired because Annie and Clarabel had been out on the razzle last night, and had had far too much degreaser than was good for them.
“Tell ya what, man,” said the Portly But Not Morbidly Obese Controller. I’ll let you work on the Big Train. You can take it from Wansford to Yarwell and back all day, and Richard the Reliable Engine will do the Peterborough bit and back. How’s that sound, mate?”
Thomas was absolutely thrilled! He didn’t work the Big Train very often and now he could show The Railway just how important he was. He quickly got up steam ready for the day ahead. During the day, Thomas worked very hard, ignoring the snorts of ‘brown noser’ coming from Dean the Deltic Engine who hadn’t been asked to help out.

Thomas was happy to have such an important task today.

At lunchtime, the Portly But Not Morbidly Obese Controller came back to Thomas in between trains.
“There’s another problem, mate. All the people who turned up for me gala are dead annoyed that nowt’s happening. I need some action to shut the buggers up or they’ll smash me face in. Can yer dee a bit of shuntin’ round the yard?”
Thomas was ever so pleased. The Portly But Not Morbidly Obese Controller was so dependent on him today. “I’ll get some of the lads to help you out, like,” added the Portly But Not Morbidly Obese Controller, who went across to Dean the Deltic Engine.
“Morning, Dean. I need a favour …”
“Bog off.”
“What did you say?” The Portly But Not Morbidly Obese Controller was incredulous. No engine ever spoke to him like that.
“I said, bog off. You told me I was like, working today, then I wasn’t, then you went and got ‘im to help you. Did you ask me? Like, no. So I ain’t havin’ none of it.”
“But Dean man, I really need your help.”
“Talk to the bogies, man. The cab ain’t listenin’.”
The Portly But Not Morbidly Obese Controller was furious. I’ll show you, you bloody great lump of tin, he muttered.

Dean on one his good days.

Thomas was now shunting in Wansford yard. He was so happy to be the centre of attention. He trundled down the siding and banged heavily into Olivia the Oil Tanker.
“Ow, be careful will you – I’ve just had my axleboxes highlighted.”
“Sorry, sorry,” said Thomas. “We’re just going for a trip round the yard, that’s all.”
Olivia gasped. “But … but … but - I’m a freight wagon!” she exclaimed. “I don’t work Saturdays. It's in the working time directive,” she added, helpfully.
Thomas sighed. “Please … pretty please. The Portly But Not Morbidly Obese Controller really needs us to pull together today to save his gala.”
“Oh all right then,” Olivia gave in gracefully. She had a soft spot for Thomas; he was so much more in touch with his feminine side than the bigger engines that paraded up and down the line.
"But mind how you go. I came on last night. Never seen so much axlegrease as that, and I’m feeling delicate, you know?” she added ruefully.
Thomas nodded sagely even though he hadn't got a clue what she was on about - but he didn't want to look like a total plonker. He was somewhat out of touch with the workings of the female underframe. He shunted Olivia round the yard, until the Portly But Not Morbidly Obese Controller approached him. Thomas could see that he was furious. He wondered if someone had stolen his pie and chips again.

“Thomas, that bloody diesel lump is doing me ‘ead in. I’m gonna sort ‘im once and for all. Stop what you’re doing and go and drag Dean round the yard a bit. Once he’s on YouTube he won’t be half as clever, the sod.”
Thomas shivered. Dean was seriously big, and you don’t spend half your life in Finsbury Park without learning how to look after yourself. But, he’d been asked, so Thomas trundled off to Dean’s siding. He decided to try reasoning first, because he knew that Dean had been to Anger Management Classes after HST’s took over his job.
“Hello Dean,” said Thomas politely.
“Piss off.”
Oh dear. That didn’t seem to go down well.
“Look,” said Thomas. “We’re all in this together. We need to work as a team and salvage the day. Remember, there’s no ‘I’ in team.”
“Really?” asked Dean laconically. “Well, maybe there ain’t no ‘I’. But there’s an ‘M’ and an ‘E’ and that says ‘ME’ and me ain’t going nowhere. Diggit.”
Thomas was cross. He was so angry that he coupled up to Dean, and using all his strength, dragged his huge carcass round the yard before dumping him in the depot. Dean was so surprised that he stared open mouthed at Thomas.
“Respect, blud. I never knew you had that in you.” Thomas chortled and trundled back to his siding. He was so happy about getting one over on Dean that he didn’t look to see where he was going and crashed into Annie and Clarabel.

Thomas with Annie & Clarabel, before the divorce.

Bang!

“Oi, oi, oi, what that’s all about?” demanded Clarabel.
“Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry,” Thomas apologised profusely. “I forgot that you were out all night,” he added slyly.
“Yeah, well, a girl’s gotta have a bit of fun, eh?”
Thomas blushed. He was a bit naïve in many ways. “So what did you do last night?” he asked out of politeness.
“Well, you should have seen what Annie got up to,” winked Clarabel.
““Omigod, omigod, omigod, don’t tell no one about last night,” Annie gasped. “It’s like sooooooooooooooooo embarrassing.”
“Oh really?” said Thomas. “Tell me, and quickly, because Richard the Reliable Engine is on his way back and I have to take the Big Train to Yarwell."
“Oh, we know all about the BIG train,” said Clarabel slyly. “Well, you know that Gordon the Big Engine has got this thing for Annie here, right?”
Thomas didn’t know, but Gordon never spoke to Thomas anyway because he was too big and flash, even since he’d lost all his hedge fund investments. Talk the talk was Gordon’s motto.
“Yes, I know,” lied Thomas.
“Well, last night Henry the Green Engine was chatting up Annie, yeah, and making like progress, whatever? Then in steams Gordon from London bangin’ on about his new portfolio.” She laughed wickedly, “You should have seen Henry the Green Engine ..... he was like, so, uh, green,” she added lamely, vocabulary not being her strong point. “Anyway, and before you know it, he’s giving her a coupling in the tunnel, like, yeah?”
"WHAT?!!" Thomas was outraged. “In my tunnel?”
Clarabel looked confused. “No man, Annie’s tunnel. Keep up, yeah.”
Thomas was dazed. His sweet and innocent little Annie was not only playing away, but with Gordon the Big Engine, and in his tunnel!
“I just can’t believe it”, he sobbed, with steam leaking from every pipe. “Of all the carriages, why Annie?”
“Oh for Chrissake, grow up,” snapped Clarabel. “Annie’s been loose for years, she only stays with you for convenience. Every time you turn your bunker, she’s off playing the field. Remember when Pete the Peak and Wesley the Western visited? She gave a double-header.”
It was an amazing revelation for Thomas. He was glad the day was nearly done, it had been a rollercoaster of emotions and he felt as though he’d been on, like, an amazing journey.
The Portly But Not Morbidly Obese Controller waddled over at the end of the day, munching on a Terry’s Chocolate Orange because it formed part of his five a day.
“Well done Thomas, mate,” he beamed. You saved the day. All that shunting shut them moaning buggers up and everyone’s happy.”

Richard the Reliable Engine missed out on all the gossip; he was working all day.

Thomas smiled wanly. It had been a good day overall, and he alone had saved it. He went to get his boiler down for some well-deserved rest, but before he did, he made sure that all of Annie’s things went into the spare shed. He’d deal with her later.

With suitable apolopgies to Rev A.W. Audrey