Edward's Express

When Gordon arrived on the Railway, The Fat Controller purchased brand new Express coaches for him. They had sturdy metal bodies, smooth bogies, and separate compartments for the passengers. Gordon was well pleased with his coaches. The old coaches felt left out.

Time and wear lead the Railway Inspectors to see them as unworthy of the Mainline. The coaches were most upset.

"Cheer up," smiled Edward. "You'll still be useful on the Branch Line trains."

"Branch Lines!" they shuddered. "How embarrassing!"

While Henry was shut in the tunnel, Edward took over his Local trains. He knew all about being left behind, and brought the old coaches out every chance he got. This cheered them up; until Gordon voiced his opinions.

"A pity," he sniffed, "but that's the price of progress. Why, even you would've been a prime Express engine at one point, Edward, I suppose it's only natural that modern engines require modern coaches."

"Is that so?" smirked Edward. "Why, I think you'd look most distinguished pulling these old dears."

"No thank you!" Gordon harrumphed. "They'd be open top carriages before I even reach top speed. Now these are proper coaches," he finished.

"Is that what they are? I thought someone had stretched out the goods vans, and you were doing some real work for a change," laughed Thomas. Edward couldn't help but chuckle, and Gordon fumed out of the station.

His mood didn't improve on the Mainline. They were running well; too well.

"Settle down, Gordon!" scolded his Driver. "You'll do a number on yourself; make no mistake."

"Real work. Real work," muttered Gordon. "I'll show those engines a thing or two about real work."

The next morning, Gordon tried to leave the Shed, but he couldn't. "What's happened to me?" he groaned.

The Driver and Fireman inspected him, and quickly found the problem. "Something's wrong with your tender brakes," sighed the Fireman, "and with how you were going about yesterday, I'm not surprised."

"And you thought the old coaches were the ones who would fall apart!" laughed Thomas.

Edward shot him a look. "This is no time for teasing, Thomas. The Express must go out on time."

"And how?" grunted Gordon. "You aren't strong enough to pull those coaches, Edward."

Edward glanced to coaches in the carriage sidings. And then, he spotted something else.

The passengers were growing impatient. There was no train ready for them, and it would soon be time to leave. The Fat Controller had just stepped out of his office to see what the matter was, when he saw a most peculiar sight. Edward came steaming in with all the old coaches he could find. The passengers were surprised, but thankful they had a train at all.

They hurriedly boarded the coaches, and The Fat Controller smiled. "Well done, Edward. Most resourceful of you. Don't push yourself too hard now."

"I may not match Gordon's pace, Sir," smiled Edward, "but I'll have a jolly good try."

The Guard blew his whistle, and Edward started away. Soon, he was coasting down the Mainline making excellent time. He whooshed through the tunnel giving Henry quite a surprise!

"Go on, Edward! Go on!" he cheered.

"Come along. Come along," Edward puffed.

"Gentle and fast. Gentle and fast," cooed the coaches. They were very pleased with Edward.

At the last station, the passengers cheered and thanked Edward. The engine a Vicarstown was most amused, but looked on with admiration. Edward just smiled; he was thankful for a rest and a drink.

When he returned to Sodor, Edward spoke kindly to the old coaches. "Well, dears, how did you fancy a return to the glory of the Express?"

"Oh, it was lovely, Edward," smiled one.

"Although," added another, "perhaps you were right. Some leisurely Branch Line work sounds most enticing."

"Well," Edward laughed, "I'd say it's time for a well-earned rest in the carriage Shed. Come along."

"That won't be necessary." Gordon slunk up along side. "The Fat Controller has given me temporary reprieve from the riggers of Mainline work to rest my wheels," he stated grandly. "I shall escort these fine coaches to the Shed."

"That's not what he said," smirked Thomas. "He said you were to shunt in the yard until you learnt not to be so big in the smokebox."

"Take us away then. Double quite; chop, chop," ordered the old coaches.

Edward and Thomas laughed. Gordon went red in the face, and shuffled silently away.