LITMIR.BIZ

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      ‘What if you’ve forgotten whether the up train’s been through or not? I mean, what if you were in the lav or something, when it came through?’ asked Tom.

      ‘Don’t be stupid. Why would he forget?’ said his brother, but Ted held up a hand.

      ‘It’s not a stupid question. You’re right, it’s essential that there’s only one train on the track from here to Coombe Regis at any one time, and also only one from here to Rayne’s Cross, the other passing place. And the train drivers need to be certain that the way ahead is clear. So we use tokens.’

      ‘Tokens?’ Peter looked confused.

      ‘There is an engraved token for each of the three sections of the line. The train driver cannot progress onto the line until he has the token for it in his possession. So the driver of the train that’s now coming up from Coombe Regis will hand me the token for that section of the line, and I’ll hand it on to the next down train. He can’t leave until he has the token.’

      ‘Clever!’ Peter’s eyes were shining. ‘Can I hand the token to the driver?’

      ‘I don’t see why not.’ Ted smiled. Such a little thing, but so exciting. He remembered being 12 himself, longing for the day when he could leave school and come to work on the railway himself. It was all he’d ever wanted to do. ‘We don’t always need the token system, strictly speaking, as often there’s only one train running up and down the line. Though we’ll generally use it anyway. In the summer when it’s busy we run more trains, and they need to be able to pass safely, so the token system is essential then.’

      He led them along the side of the track to where the little signal box stood, and ushered them up the few steps inside it. There were four signal levers – one each for each track and each direction. And two points levers, to switch the points where the two tracks became one, just beyond the station in both directions. He showed them all these, and demonstrated how the levers worked – the way to grip them to release the lock and pull down hard until they slotted in place. ‘It’s important they click into position, so they can’t accidentally slip out.’

      ‘Cor, what would happen if one did slip out of position?’ Tom asked.

      ‘Could cause a crash, couldn’t it, Uncle Ted?’ said Peter, always wanting to be the one who knew the most.

      ‘It could. But it’s part of my job to make sure that all signals and points are in the correct positions before I leave the signal box. So look, we’ve got the 11.42 up train coming through soon. The points are set right, but we need to set the up signal to stop. Can you do that, Peter?’

      The boy’s eyes shone as he leapt forward to the signal lever and got ready to pull it. Tom’s lower lip quivered, and Ted ruffled the younger boy’s hair. ‘Don’t fret. You’ll get to set the signal to go, when the train’s ready to leave.’ It did the trick, and Tom grinned happily.

      Peter managed the signal with no problem. ‘Now then, we need to go back to the platform and get ready to swap the tokens over.’

      ‘Uncle Ted, can I stay here with the signals, ready to change it to clear?’ Tom was standing to attention, his hand on the signal lever.

      ‘If you like, but don’t touch anything else. I’ll give you a wave when it’s time to change the signal. All right?’

      ‘Yes, sir!’ Tom saluted.

      Now it was Peter’s turn to pout. ‘I didn’t get to change a signal all by myself, Uncle Ted. I only did it when you were with me. And as I’m the oldest I should have been given more responsibility, not him.’

      Ted sighed. He never did quite understand the children’s fine-tuned sense of justice. It was so hard to ensure they were both happy. ‘Well, you can have another turn this afternoon. We’ll keep things fair.’ He led Peter back down to the platform to await the train. It was right on time, and Peter proudly handed over the token to Bill Perkins, the train driver.

      ‘Good lad. We’ll make a stationmaster of you yet, won’t we, Ted?’ said Bill, grinning.

      There was only one person alighting from the train, and no one to pick up, so in no time at all Ted was waving his flag to allow the train to move. But the signal was still at stop. He waved again, and saw little Tom’s answering wave from the steps of the signal box. But still the signal didn’t change.

      ‘Why doesn’t he change the signal, the silly boy?’ muttered Peter. ‘Shall I go and see?’

      ‘Give him a chance,’ said Ted, watching the signal box carefully.

      ‘What’s the hold up?’ Bill leaned out of the cab to ask.

      ‘My younger nephew’s in charge of changing the signal.’

      ‘Ha ha! Maybe the poor little nipper can’t manage the heavy lever. You’d best go check on him, Ted, or the train’ll be late and we can’t have that!’

      He had a point. Ted hurried up the platform and into the signal box where, sure enough, Tom was pulling on the lever with all his might, leaning all his weight into it and grunting with the effort. ‘I can’t make it change, Uncle Ted! It’s too heavy!’

      ‘Squeeze the handle, like I showed you, lad. That releases it.’

      ‘Nnghh!’ Tom did as he was told and the lever released easily, sending him flying backwards across the shed. With a whistle the train shunted forwards. ‘I did it!’

      ‘You did indeed, young Tom. Well done.’

      Ted was sweating. That was the last time he’d let a child handle the signal levers alone. The train had been two minutes late leaving! He’d have to log that, in his notebooks that contained details of every train that passed through – but he wouldn’t log the reason why.

      *

      Norah and Margot were back at five o’clock. Margot had a bag of sweets in her hand from the village grocery shop, and Norah had a sherbet dip for each of the boys. ‘I hope you’ve been good for your uncle,’ she said, and Peter and Tom both nodded solemnly.

      ‘Well, off you go inside and play quietly now till teatime,’ Norah told the children, who ran off to the station garden. ‘You’re so good with the children, Teddy. You’d make an excellent father. I’ll put the kettle on for a cuppa.’

      ‘Thanks, Norah. There’s a train coming through shortly so I’m busy for a bit.’ It was the 17.21. Annie’s train. She’d be here soon, passing through the station, and he wanted to be ready for her, with his hair smoothed down, cap on straight, uniform brushed.

      ‘I’ll bring the tea through to you,’ Norah called, as she made her way to the little kitchen.

      Ted busied himself around the station, emptying a litter bin, straightening chairs in the waiting room, stacking the pile of used magazines. The signal was already at stop, so there was nothing more to do. He went out to the platform and looked along the line – no sign of the train yet, but he didn’t expect to see it. Back in the ticket office he paced up and down until Norah brought through his cup of tea.

      ‘Here you are, then,’ she said, as she handed it to him.

      It was at that moment that the station door opened and in came Annie, wearing her deep-green coat that had a pinched in waistline and a matching neat hat. She nodded to him, pulled out her ticket to show him as usual, and then walked through to the platform. It was a fine day so she sat on a bench on the platform rather than use the ladies’ waiting room that he’d just tidied up for her. His eyes followed her as always, and it was only when she’d taken a seat that he came back to himself, and realised he was holding his tea at an angle, spilling some over his boots.

      ‘Who is she?’ Norah asked, quietly.

      ‘Er, her name’s Annie Galbraith, I believe. She works in the National Provincial Bank in Lynford.’

      ‘You like her, don’t you?’

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