The Island's Swansong

XVI - Wind in the Sail

I can't recall how long I sat in awe at Edward's tale. Somehow, despite getting to know these engines through hundreds of stories told over tens of decades, it had never come close to this feeling of wonder and reverence. This was an engine that had done extraordinary things, and who's bravery and selflessness eclipsed the lofty expectations I already had.

I told Edward as much, but years alone hadn't weakened his humility. "I just did what needed doing. There was no aim to be big or brave."

"I know," I nodded, "That's what makes you the best of all."

Darkness outside had cloaked the island. It was late, possibly already passed midnight. But the conversation showed no signs of slowing.

"Your best counts for little when the existential crises eventually come around," Edward sighed, "The sands of time drain away for all eventually."

"Are you talking about the last days on the railway?"

"Indeed. Those were also scary times."

"I've heard all sorts were going on," I said, "But haven't found anyone who can piece it together."

"That's because we only saw or heard about issues to do with the railway," Edward explained, "The human problems were only heard in passing when someone said something too close to their engine. I can only really recall what happened on the tracks." He sighed again, "Or the tracks I still ran, at least."

"Can you tell me your perspective?" I massaged my leg. It tingled with pins and needles. I'd not gotten up for hours.

"The first inlkings something was wrong came when some businesses began to close down. 'Financial problems' was all we heard. Then some damning news stories came out saying steam and diesel engines were bad for the environment. Gordon and James argued their paintwork and journeys improved the countryside view for others. Some passengers overheard, reported this to the papers and made the issues much worse.

"Sir Topham Hatt warned us to ignore the conversation, telling us he would sort it out. But a group moved against the railway, forcing him to compromise. He moved me out of the sheds at Tidmouth to Wellsworth to run my line only. BoCo was brought up to cover mainline duties, and from what I heard and saw at the junction it was almost exclusively diesels working the main line. Steam engines were restricted to branch lines, shunting in the yard or, if the big engines were lucky, 'special' main line passenger trains. The passengers began talking about 'heritage' lines and the main railway. We'd finally been pushed out in favour of diesels."

Edward shut his eyes, thinking the events over. "I think by moving us, and me first, Sir Topham actually saved us from the worst possible fate. He still cared, but the modern times had caught up with us."

"He had too many steam engines to push them all onto branch lines," I said, "What did he do with most of them?"

"A few were sold," Edward scrunched his brow, thinking, "I think some lines had rotas. I know the Little Western did. He could keep more engines that way, but at the compromise of running them less frequently. The crew shortages didn't help."

I nodded, remembering the notes I saw at Crovan's Gate.

"But something was wrong," Edward continued, "With the Island. Summers became drier. There were more fires. Storms in the winter became more intense, and almost one after the other. Coastal lines saw more flooding. Damages to harbours and bridges became constant. It was as if something surrounding us was crumbling."

The way he told it sounded familiar. Mr Conductor said the universe would crumble. In reality, it was changing climates, but perhaps Mr Conductor was acutely aware of the issue...