Legend Of The Skye Railway: Chapter One (100TH)

Legend of the Skye Railway
Chapter One; Representatives

Long ago, in the year of 1890, a group of men were having a conversation in their local pub in the small village of Edinbane. For several weeks some years ago, they had been debating over ways to transport people around the Island of Skye which they were all residents upon. This problem was soon sorted after an evening in that very pub which they all sat in and told of their own individual ideas that they had drafted up beforehand. Out of the four decisions given, they decided upon a railway of the two feet gauge variety. So for the last five years they had been gathering all the resources they needed, from rails to sleepers to ballast, and building their means of transport.

This conversation had been brought up many a times over the course of those five years, but now it was really troubling them.
"We'll need an engine that can handle the passenger amounts that we'll eventually end up with," murmured the Chairman, Scott MacLeod as he took a sip of his beer.
"Well obviously!" sniggered the Vice Chairman, John Duncan, "Otherwise we'd be moving them at a snail's pace!"
"Just putting the facts down on the table…" groaned Scott, rolling his eyes.

"I think a Hunslet!" perked up Ian MacDonald, "It would look smashing in our countryside!"
"Ian, for the last time," sighed the final member, Jameson McGregor, "It's not looks we're going for, but what will be able to haul the trains without being a total waste of strength!"
"So not a Hunslet then…" moaned Ian, disappointed at the fact he wouldn't get to see a Hunslet on the island.

The debate went down for several more hours, as did more beer and needless to say, none of their wives were very happy when they returned home, drunk as skunks. Jameson's wife was least impressed as he was known to do this often and their loud arguing was known to wake up their children and upset them. Tonight was different. It was louder, as was the crying.

"All you do all day is go out with your friends and play with your stupid little trains!" she bellowed.
"I'll let you know, woman," he snapped in return with a few hiccups, "that we have no train as of yet!"
"You've only mentioned that a hundred times!" came the reply, "Only carriages, you say. Only wagons, you say. Only a crappy little hut, you say!"
"What you're referring to is an… an..."
"I don't care what it is!" his wife screamed at the top of her voice, "Stuff your silly little railway and your silly little friends – I'm leaving!"

Jameson lay against the wall before slouching down his floor. His wife quickly emerged with her bags; it was as if she'd had them ready…
How had he let his marriage fall apart so easily? As his now ex-wife trekked to her parents' house in the pelting rain, he ran upstairs to comfort his children.
"It's okay," he soothed, stroking their heads, "It's okay, Daddy's here now. Mummy's just gone on a little holiday, she'll be back soon,"
As he said those words, Jameson McGregor looked at the floor in confusion. Would his wife come back, even if only for the children?

The next morning, Jameson opened his eyes the earliest. He had barely slept. The sun hadn't risen, but it was winter so that meant probably around seven. When he was up and dressed, he left the single bedroom as quietly as he could to not wake his children. Porridge was the only thing they ate in the mornings beside a slice of bread each, so it was very lucky for him that he knew how to make it.
"Not as good as Flora's, but it'll do," he said to himself, licking the wooden spoon clean.

A rumble of footsteps was heard from the wooden stairs and he looked up to see his two children, James and Elizabeth, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
"Where's Mummy?" asked Elizabeth with a tear in her eye.
"Did she die?" asked James, always the one to think of the worst, causing his sister to cry.
"Now, now, don't cry, Lizzie," soothed Jameson as he cuddled his daughter tightly, "I told you last night she went on a little holiday, remember?"
"Did you?" asked James, not believing his father.
"Yes, I did actually," frowned Jameson, looking at his son, "Now I want you to apologise to your sister, you gave her a nasty scare with those nasty comments,"
"Ugh, fine," groaned James, "I'm sorry for saying the nasty thing that I did, I hope you can accept my apology,"
"Great, now who's up for porridge?!" Jameson smiled.
"Ooh! Me! Me! Me!" came the reply.

After they had demolished their bowls of porridge and slices of bread, Jameson walked them to school and managed to get them there on time before walking home. He knew he had a few hours before he had to pick them up again so he decided to go and talk to Scott. He really needed another adult to have a conversation with.

"So it was like she was ready to leave already?" Scott asked.
"Yeah," sighed Jameson, "I didn't know it was getting that bad, she didn't even give any warning, or at least I don't think she did…"
"Listen," smiled Scott, "You should take a holiday, you know?"
"I was going to actually, just got to wait a few weeks before the kids get off school," Jameson replied, surprising Scott.
"Really?" asked Scott, "Where to?"
"Porthmadog," answered Jameson, "It might actually help us with our locomotive problem as I hear there's a railway running from there…"
"I suppose so," smirked Scott, "You just take care, and tell the kids I say 'Hi',"
"Will do!" chuckled Jameson and he left to pick his children up his children

"Porthmadog?" they asked, very confused.
"Port-away-my-dog or Porth-my-dog"? asked Elizabeth.
"The second one's the closest," chuckled Jameson, patting her on the back, "It's a place in Wales and while we're having fun, we might solve Daddy and the railway's locomotive problem!"
His two children sighed and rolled their eyes as they continued their walk home. They almost didn't care that their mother had left.

The next morning, the routine was the same except Jameson approached their teacher to ask about the best time to go on holiday.
"So you see, I was planning to take them to Wales after this term finishes, but," his voice quietened to a whisper, "their mother has actually left and…"
"Tomorrow's fine," smiled the teacher, "If that is the situation then I suppose a holiday away will do the best for them as they will never be able to concentrate properly on their schoolwork if they have this on their minds,"
"Oh," uttered Jameson, "Not expecting such a quick response,"
"Pick them up and the end of the day and then you can head off!" she smiled before turning her attention back to the classroom.
Jameson left her to her work and smiled as he left the building. He felt proud that he'd actually managed to achieve something good lately.

So he sat in his favourite chair in the kitchen, thinking of what he needed to do before they left.
"Pack," he muttered, "Pack! Oh my lord, we need to pack!"
With that, he darted in the single bedroom the family shared, eyeing the individual chest of drawers that everyone had. He sat down on the double bed he had shared with his wife and stared at her chest of drawers for a moment. After a sudden eye tick, he got up and went rummaging for the remaining suitcases.

"Two," he said to himself upon laying them open on his bed, "Two. James should share one with his sister, then they can have the biggest one and I'll take the small one. Yes, that'll do fine,"
Around the room he went, picking up stuff that his children would need on their holiday.
"Shirts, yes, need them obviously. Flowerpot, no. Trousers, yes, socks too. Oh, underwear, too. What else?"
A pink teddy bear, worn and torn from age, looked at him with puppy-like eyes from the pillow of his daughter's bed.
"Ted!" he exclaimed, "How could I forget you? I won't pack you, I'll just sit you on their suitcase so that when Lizzie gets home, she'll be really happy to see you're coming too,"
With that, he picked up 'Ted' and sat him down on top of the suitcase. It was almost like 'Ted' smiled back at him.

There were no rolls or bacon in the house so Jameson headed down to the village shop. As he opened the door, the bell jingled as per usual and the smell of fresh stock filled his nostrils as he strolled around looking for what he needed. Picking up the bacon, he moved towards the counter where he saw June, the shop owner, standing behind the counter as usual.
"Will that be all for you, dear?" she asked sweetly with an innocent smile.
"Yes, that'll be all," replied Jameson, handing her the money.
"You seem rather down, dear. What's the matter, pet?"
"Flora's left us and the kids don't know yet," Jameson sighed.
"Oh I'm so sorry, dear, is there anything I can do?" June asked.
"No thanks, I'm telling them after school and tomorrow we're off to Wales," Jameson smiled.
"That'll be good for them to head away," June agreed, "Now off you go and eat, you look starving, pet!"
"Right, I shall," chuckled Jameson, "See you soon, June,"
"See you soon, pet," June called, waving him off, "Poor soul,"

"Roll, butter, bacon, butter, roll," Jameson muttered to himself as he prepared his lunch. He popped it on his plate and sat down to eat it. Just as he took the first bite, there was a knock on the door.
"Ugh…" he moaned, getting up to answer it, "I'm coming!"
He opened the old wooden door. Her hair was tied up as usual, every blonde part of it.
"Hello," Flora said, hardly any expression in her voice.
"Um… h-hello," Jameson replied, "What brought you back?"
"June," Flora smiled, "that silly old women keeps worrying over everyone in the village like she's its mother!"
"I know!" chuckled Jameson.
Silence fell between the two. They looked the ground and at their feet before reconstituting eye-contact for the first time since she left.
"Going to invite me in?" she smiled.
"Oh! Yes, yes! Come in" Jameson spluttered.
"Alright then," laughed Flora and followed him into the kitchen.

The two sat down and smiled. Jameson hoped this was the ending he dreamed of.
"I'm sorry about the other night," began Flora, "I wasn't thinking straight and…"
"Never mind that," comforted Jameson, patting her shoulder, "As long as we can both put it behind us, it's over,"
The two hugged. It was truly over. At least, that's what Jameson thought. Unbeknownst to him, Flora smirked evilly as he held her tight, pleased to rekindle their flame of love. Suddenly the clock struck three o'clock and Jameson was rushing out the door to collect the children.

Running down the hill, Jameson saw the school ahead. He passed the field where a little structure stood. This structure had a base made out of bricks, the rest of its walls made out of wooden planks and a roof made out of congregated iron. Nicknamed 'The Awkie Hut' for its awkward shape, this structure was to become one of the most important and well-known pieces of infrastructure on the Island of Skye. Emerging from it were rails with the measurement of two feet between them, heading straight until joining with another line which had a platform of concrete next to it. This was this station of Edinbane on the Skye Railway, the product of four young men's hard work and ambition to create sometime beneficial for the island. Their ambition… their dream was coming true.

Lizzie was out and at the school gate first. She wanted to go on ahead, but knew it was dangerous and she could get lost, even with her brother who took just a little while longer. He came out, boasting to his friends about how he was going on holiday that evening.
"Pah," they snorted, "Nothing good about a railway anyway, don't see why they're building one here!"
"It's so that we can all get around and so stuff like the things we throw around in class get moved around quicker," James explained. Although it didn't normally seem like it, he thoroughly supported the project and would always ask his father to give a progress report whenever he came back from it.

"Stuff like the things you throw around, eh?" chuckled a well-known voice, "That's something that doesn't come up whenever I talk to your teacher!"
James blushed, this was something he had definitely not wanted his father to find out about.
"Come on then," Jameson said at last, "let's get you two home, there's a surprise waiting for you!"
"Ooh ooh!" chirped Elizabeth, "I like surprises!"
"So do I!" cheered James as they ran up the hill in front of their father. Coasting down the other side, they peered over the fence to see how the railway was getting on and barged through the front door which creaked loudly as they entered.

They saw her sitting at the table. They froze. They honestly didn't know what to think. Her blonde hair now flew down past her shoulders.
"Mummy!" Lizzie cried, finally breaking the uneasy silence and hugging her mother, but not as tightly as you would have thought. James did the same. It was almost like, unlike their father, they hadn't wanted her to come back really.
"Well aren't you two looking handsome and beautiful?!" Flora smiled, "Looks like Daddy does know how to take care of you after all!
The four all chuckled. Not all chuckles were real, however. During the course of the last few days, the children had gained a lot of respect for their father and lost a lot for their mother. She hadn't even said she was going or where she was going to! Deep inside, it hurt them.

"Unfortunately, Mummy's not coming on holiday, but she promised to look after the house until we get back," smiled Jameson, "So let's go get our bags or we'll miss the boat!"
James and Lizzie ran upstairs where they found the two suitcases and 'Ted' waiting for them. The two took them down the stairs and promptly waved 'Goodbye' to their mother before leaving with their father towards the port. Slowly, the wooden door closed behind them, creaking louder than ever before, but they took no notice. Maybe they should have, maybe it would have helped them, but we can't change what has already happened…

It was dark when they reached the port. Lizzie was asleep on Jameson's shoulders and he was carrying the largest suitcase. James was trailing a little behind, wanting to fall asleep.
"Aye, aye," called a voice, "Going tae Wales are ye?"
"Yes, please," panted Jameson and handed over the money.
"Aye, aye," the man chortled, "Hae a seat and fall asleep if ye must, it's gonnae be a lang journey…"
As it set off, the boat rocked and swayed with its four passengers on  board (five if you counted 'Ted'), on its way to Wales with three very tired representatives…