The railway that runs through Horsmarlonerpool isn’t very big, and it isn’t very fast, but it is very, very important.
It runs from the Skylands, way up in the north, through Horsmarlonerpool, and out to the Pastures to the West.
Some people say well what’s the use of a railway that only goes north to the Skylands, and west to the pastures? But people who lived in Horsmarlonerpool knew the use: The Skylands were magical, which meant they were cold in summer, and warm in winter.
And when you’re cold in winter, or too hot in summer, that’s a useful place to know.
And the pastures were where the cows, sheep and rabbits, grasshoppers and deer lived. They needed a train to go and visit their friends, too, and they were very welcome to ride on it.
Not only that, the train line branched off down to the harbour, so that heavy goods could be brought off ships and into the town. And a second branch ran down to the airport, so it was easy for people to go on holiday with heavy bags. Or come back from holiday with even heavier bags and lots of presents.
So you see… Skylands, pastures, airport, harbour… If that wasn’t a handy railway - then what was?
And the people loved it so much that it was very popular. Three engines were needed to run trains every day - and they were called Sixwheels, Shampoo and Mersey.
Sixwheels was the fastest, she was always rushing through stations, blowing her whistle. Shampoo was the tidiest, always making sure he looked absolutely perfect. And Mersey was the most helpful - always turning up whenever there was a problem.
But what all three engines had in common was a love of meeting new people. On this particular day, Pelham the pigeon flew into their shed and gave them some news. A new engine was coming to town, pulling a train tour all the way from beyond the Skylands on a different railway, right through to the pastures.
It was a grand train of special tourists who had all heard about how pretty Horsmarlonerpool was, and wanted to see it - and the pastures - for themselves.
All three engines gathered in Horsmarlonerpool station at 3 o’clock, excited to meet a new loco.
“I wonder if I should dash ahead and check the line’s clear?” wondered Sixwheels. “I better get the water tower ready, I bet she’ll be thirsty,” pointed out Mersey, and he quickly shunted over to the sidings. “I hope he or she is a clean engine with not too much steam,” said Shampoo. “I’ve been polished up especially.”
When the engine came into view, they saw it wasn’t a girl loco but a boy. He was bright red, with twelve wheels, and a further six on his tender. Behind him, there were fifteen shiny coaches.
“Oh. I see. Goodness.” said Shampoo, suddenly feeling a little bit inferior.
The tour train hissed into the station, and came to rest in an explosion of steam.
“Hello!” said Sixwheels. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sixwheels.”
“And I’m Shampoo,” said Shampoo. “Oh, and over there, in the siding, is Mersey. He’s just getting you some water, if you’d like some water…?”
“Oh, I have plenty, thank you,” said the huge engine. “I never try to get too thirty at work. Pacing yourself, that’s the key. My name is Sir Betjeman.”
“Hello!,” called Mersey, puffing up. “Sorry I missed you. I got you some water.”
“Sir Betjeman doesn’t want any water, Mersey,” said Shampoo. “He’s pacing himself.”
“Oh.” said Mersey.
“Now what sort of line is it out to these pastures we’ve come to see?,” said Sir Betjeman. “Good and flat or a bit of a climb?”
“Oh, well,” started Sixwheels. “It’s really no bother. You come out of the station here, and then approach the Old Town, and go through the tunnel, and out towards the valley -—“
“The what?” said Sir Betjaman. “The tunnel? What in the name of custard tarts is a tunnel?”
The engines all looked at each other. How could an engine as important as Sir Betjeman not know what a tunnel was?
“Oh. Well. it’s like… a long bridge,” said Sixwheels. “You know what a bridge is?”
“I saw one once. Didn’t fancy it going under it, I can say. All that brick above one’s head. It’s not natural.”
“Ah,” said Sixwheels and turned to the others. “We might have a problem here.”
“A tunnel is like a long bridge,” said Mersey, helpfully. “But it goes on for ages, and it’s really dark and it’s full of bats,”
“Ahhhhrrghh! Oh dear!,” said Sir Betjaman, and tried to put his gears into reverse. “We don’t have anything like that up in the flatlands!”
“Well because they’re flat,” said Shampoo. “You don’t have a need to tunnel. Railways tunnel through hills, you see.”
“Oh, yes, well… I think I should return,” said Sir Betjeman. “Get my passengers home.”
“But they’ve all come to see the pastures,” said Sixwheels. “And the tunnel is the only way to get there!”
Sir Betjaman looked terrified, so the three engines from Horsmarlonerpool went into a tight circle. They came up with a plan.
“I’ll go on ahead,” said Mersey, “through the tunnel and scare out any bats.”
“Yes,” said Sixwheels. “And I’ll head off just in front of you, Sir Betjeman, so you can watch for my red light. Just keep an eye on that, and I’ll guide you.”
“And I stay at the end of your train,” said Shampoo. “In case… you decide to go backwards for any reason.”
And so Mersey steamed off ahead, and then Sixwheels slowly left the station with Sir Betjeman following behind her. Once both trains had left, Shampoo followed - staying close to the very last coach.
Mersey charged though the tunnel, making as much noise as he could, causing all the bats to fly out the other end.
Then a couple of minutes later, Sixwheels and Sir Betjeman approached. They chugged into the tunnel and Sir Betjeman closed his eyes. He only opened them a fraction to make sure the red light belonging to Sixwheels was still ahead of him, and then screwed them shut again.
“There! That wasn’t so bad, was it?,” said Sixwheels.
Sir Betjeman opened his eyes. There was bright sunlight, they were outside! They’d got through the tunnel and they were steaming towards the pastures! As they went under the aqueduct, he barely noticed he was so excited!
“Charge!” said Sir Betjeman, and accelerated with joy!
And within five minutes, all the passengers had climbed out of the fifteen coaches, and were busy taking photos of their new surroundings.
Mersey, Sixwheels, Shampoo and Sir Betjaman rested together, now the best of friends. Finally, Sir Betjaman could relax.
“Thank you for helping me today,” he said. “I’m afraid I must have looked a little bit of a coward.”
“If I hadn’t seen a tunnel before, I’m sure I would have been scared, too,” said Mersey. “Here, have some cake to celebrate.”
Sir Betjaman was happy. “Oh, Mersey…” he said. “Tell me, do all those dark sparrows normally sleep on you?”
“They’re bats, not sparrows! I woke them up so you wouldn’t be scared, and now it’s well past their bedtime!”
“What a fascinating place,” said Sir Betjaman. “I’m going to make sure I bring every tour here,”
“And see us again!” said Sixwheels.
“And see you all again!” said Sir Betjaman. “But not in the tunnel. Next time, I’m going to do that all by myself.”
