Lady Of The Island

Not What Was Imagined

My heart skipped a beat. There he was in all his glory, one of my favourite characters from the franchise...Gordon. He looked very different however, fitted with smoke deflectors and plenty of extra pipes. His face was still quite wrinkled as he grumbled infront of a long train of vans, which had a horrid stench to them.
I jumped with joy as I made my way towards him, thinking of all of the questions to ask! Well, they all came out at once...

"Do you how is are you?" I asked, fully confident that I spoke proper english.

"...Excuse me?" An oddly gruff voice came from him. "Can I help you?"

I went extremely red.
"Sorry! So many questions, you see!"

"...mhmm...You're a fan, I take it? Well, I'm not up for taking pictures, thank you very much." He had a very annoyed look on his face. "I don't care for those books and never have."

"...oh" I was once again disheartened. "I didn't want a picture...Er...I just wanted to know how you were."

"Right.." His face remained stone. "I'm fine."

"Good...good." The awkwardness was KILLING me. "May I ask how Murdoch is? He's was always my favourite!" I added a laugh to not seem so uptight.

An awkward-er silence hung between us as he thought.

"Murdoch...Murdoch...Sorry, I don't recall an engine with that name."

"He's this big express goods engine! Surely you know him. He's bright orange!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Nope..."

"...he likes the peace and quiet? ...scottish?"

Gordon thought again. "Well, there's Murphy. He's our long distance goods engine, scottish and likes the quiet." I smiled widely. "Well, I did hear that there was an adaptation of him many years ago, maybe it was that?"

"It must have been! Thank you!" I thanked him as the guard's whistle blew and he soared away with a 'goodbye' whistle.

I strolled over to an electronic screen where different locations, times and platforms were displayed.
Glancing at my briefing, I needed to get to where the TV series crew were originally stationed - Tidmouth City.
Interesting...I always remembered Tidmouth being presented as a small station in the show, but a big one in the books. Perhaps the books were right? They were released first after all.

There was an outgoing train to Tidmouth that was to arrive in half an hour, pulled by an engine called Becca. Becca....Becca? I couldn't recall a character with that name, until I remembered spotting a poster with a character called Rebecca...That must be her.

Now, what would I do with my time until she arrived? I did what any normal person would do: walk around the station and explore.
Don't get me wrong, Sodor seemed like a nice place at first, but between all of the cigarette butts and litter everywhere, it just seemed miserable.
It wasn't helped by an incident that occured while walking past a bench.

"Ooh! E'yup lad!"

I turned on my heel to spot an older homeless bloke, covered in rags and stinking of smoke and booze.

"Oh, hello." I tried to be kind to him.

"Why don't you..." He stumbled his way over, taking a swig of alcohol on his path. "..run me that covering, eh?" He pointed at my creme teddy-jacket.

"Urm, no thanks...I quite like it, thank you very much."

He edged closer to me, continously drinking. "I wasn't (hic) asking you.."

He tried to swipe for it, but I moved out of the way - causing him to stumble and fall flat on his stomach with a grumble.
"Eugh.....h-help."

I just stared at him and walked away, making sure to note the incident in my journal. This journey surely is not what was imagined - I'll tell you that for starters. I popped off to buy my (very expensive) ticket soon after.

After a while of waiting, a long deep-bronze green engine thundered into the station, bellowing with her whistle. Her smokebox was interesting as part of it was still there, covering the left side of her face...but failed to cover a large scar that trailed over and through her upper lip.
I ran over to her and smiled.

"Hello! You must be Rebecca! It's a pleasure to meet you-"

I was cut off once again.

"Why does ev'rybody keep callin' me that?" The engine snapped with a thick northern english accent. "It's Becca, nothin' else!"

"Oh, I do apologise..." I sighed. "My name's Gray and I'm a reporter...I'd like to ask you some questions-"

"If it's abou' my smokebox, leave it!" Becca shouted. "It's healin'!"

"From what exactly?"

"None of yer bus'ness!" She slurred. "Get in my train and can it!"

'Not very pleasant' I thought to myself as I boarded the coaches.
As soon as I stepped into the coaches, I got a whiff of strong perfume and pure privilege. I felt so very out of place when I sat down next to a very done-up woman who was touching up her makeup.

She refused to make any conversation with me as Becca pulled away.
I had a strong feeling that I wouldn't enjoy this trip whatsoever...

***

Becca thundered through Sodor's countryside where I was taken purely aback.
It was beautiful! Not only were the countrysides extremely lush, but the rivers and ponds were breathtaking, although the posh woman next to me didn't seem to care.
I spotted many familiar faces from my childhood: Douglas, Oliver, Daisy and Percy, to name a few! All of them seemed to be rather bitter...

"Excuse me, miss," I asked the passenger beside me. "Is this your first trip to Sodor?"

The woman laughed, brushing away her clearly-dyed blonde hair. "Of course not, I live here, darling."

"Oh..right..."

"Is something the matter?" She asked, finally putting away her makeup mirrors and brushes.

"I just...this island is so different to what I expected." I buried my head in my hands. The woman placed a hand on my shoulder.
I expected her to give some sort of pep talk, but I got a snarky reply back.

"That's what you get for trusting the television. You know how the phrase goes...fake it until you make it..." She raised her hand and pulled a cord. "And faking seemed to work for this island."

I sighed once more.
"Right, yeah..."

***

It was a long ride until we got to Tidmouth. I didn't really pay attention after that encounter. The woman begged to move away from me as I was 'like a mouse' and 'straining her voice'.
Instead, I was moved. For the rest of the journey, I sat across the coach - next to an equally stuck up man.

When I say that I was glad to get out of that coach, I mean it.
As I stepped onto the platform, an immense grin grew on my face. Tidmouth Station was beautiful, compared to Vicarstown that is!
Sure there was the ugly feeling of being watched, but it was much cleaner and well-kept than the first!
However, it soon hit me why when I noticed the people around. Every single person at the platform, bar me of course, was dressed in their Sunday Best - covered in expensive clothes.
It was clear that Tidmouth was the more wealthy side of the island...it surely explained the passengers.
I was getting ready to read my journal again when I heard a soft and slightly nasally voice behind me.

"Excuse me, Sir? Are you Gray Marshall?"