Date: Thu, 31 Aug 2023 07:35:55 +0000
From: Jonah30 <Jonah30@proton.me>
Subject: A Seat of Learning   chapter 13

A Seat of Learning
by Jonah

More of the adventures of Simon and Garret and their boys.  This is a
loving story of good people.  It features men looking after boys but do not
expect to find any indecency here.  Only genuine love.  Not one of the
characters in this story is a real person or is, in any way, based on a
real person.  At least one character, however, is the creation of another
author.  I wish to thank Jacob Lion, in the USA, for his permission to use
his characters in my stories.

I hope you will enjoy this story, and I'm grateful to Nifty for enabling me
to bring it to you.  Nifty does not charge either me or you for doing so,
but it does cost money to do it.  Please consider donating to Nifty at
https://donate.nifty.org/ to help keep this site going.

Chapter 13

On Saturday morning I woke alone in my bed.  All three boys had slept in
their own room and Simon had risen and departed in the wee small hours.  I
don't recall Simon mentioning that he was rostered at Sheringham but,
obviously, he was.  Well that settled what I was going to do with three
small boys for the day.  Clearly a visit to the seaside was in order.

I rose, showered and prepared enough porridge for the four of us.  Then it
was back upstairs to tell three small(ish) boys that they needed to get
showered, dressed ready for going out, then down for breakfast.

"Are we going to see Daddy's disiesel?" Lloyd wanted to know.

"I don't know if Daddy is on a disiesel," I replied.  "He might very well
have a steam engine."

I was a primary school teacher.  I should be well aware that, if you talk
baby language to kids, you teach them to talk baby language.  I was well
aware, but when Lloyd used mutilated words or malapropisms, he was
irresistable.  In fact you could never tell whether he did it because he
didn't know any better, or whether he did it because he did know better to
the extent that he enjoyed taking liberties with the English language.
Well I, for one, was not going to tell him that creative use of English was
wrong.

All three boys had clearly been brought up to take a pride in their
appearance.  They came down dressed for a Summer outing, but you can still
look smart when dressed casually.  There was nothing casual about the way
Philip dressed.  Everything from his shirts to his socks, he insisted, had
to be ironed before it was put away.  He ironed them himself and you would
think they had been to the dry cleaners.  The boy never had a hair out of
place, and the other two seemed to have caught it from him.

Affter breakfast I piled them into my car and headed for the coast.

Not being Simon, I didn't park up in the railway's staff car park but used
the car park at the Crown, right on the sea-front.  I knew that, in Winter,
the waves were apt to break over vehicles in this car-park but, in
September, there shouldn't be any risk of that.  We walked down the prom as
far as Whelk Coppers and back again, enjoying watching the sea do what it
does best - whatever that is.  After that we walked down the High Street,
window shopping as we went, and down Waterbank Road to the station.

It was partly due to the beautiful off season weather, and partly due to
the non-availability of a diesel multiple unit, that the railway was
operating a two-train service on a September Saturday.  A train headed by
the 9F had arrived just as we walked onto the platform.  Simon's friend Ben
Pigeon was the driver on it and he spotted us as soon as we walked on.

"Hiya Garret!" he called.  "You just arrived in time for the wrong train.
Simon's on the J15 and he'll just be arriving at Holt about now."

"Cheer's Ben," I replied.  "We'll have time to explore round here and get
ourselves a cuppa before he gets back here then."

"If you're exploring you might as well put them on this engine and they can
explore that," he said.  "Up you come boys."

I lifted each boy in turn to the high footplate and then climbed up myself.
A 9F is a British Railways standard engine and has an American type cab
layout, which meant that all the driver's work, and much of the fireman's,
can be done from their comfortable seats on either side of the cab.  That
leaves a fair bit of room in the middle, so we confined ourselves to the
back, near the tender.

""OK this side," called the fireman as Ben gave a toot and let the big
engine roll backwards a few feet.

"If anyone say anything, they're all twelve," Ben said to me over his
shoulder.

Both men had been looking back along the sides of the tender.  Now they
turned in their seats and looked forwards instead.

""Right away," Ben called, eliciting an "OK" from his fireman.

With another toot Ben opened the regulator for a few seconds.  There was a
lot of creaking and groaning from underneath as the big engine moved
forwards.  Through the platform we rolled and then, with another toot, out
the other end and past the signalbox.

Both men turned and looked back again.

"That'll be the first time this year then," called Ben in response to
something the signalman had shouted.  He reached up and tooted the whistle
and the fireman called, "OK driver."

As the engine began creaking her way back to the platform, Ben commented to
his fireman.

"He reckon Simon's at Weybourne already and set for a right-time
departure."

"Set for," chuckled the fireman.  "He haven't done it yet."

"No, but he'll be back here right time," Ben replied.  "I'd put money on it
if I had any."

We were down to walking speed so the fireman crossed the footplate and
climbed down to the platform.

"Half a coach," he called, "ten feet, five , WOAH!"

The big engine stopped and there was a metallic "clunk!" from somewhere
while the tender front seemed to snuggle itself up against us.  Everything
stopped moving.  Ben stepped across and wound on the tender handbrake and
then gave two toots on his whistle.  Without waiting to be asked, I climbed
down and began lifting the boys off.

"Thanks Ben," I called up to him.

"Any time Garret," he replied.  "See you later."

I took the boys to the booking office and purchased return tickets to Holt
for all four of us.  Next stop was the buffet on platform one.  I purchased
a cup of tea and three Coca Colas, and four slices of carrot-cake, then
asked for an additional two teas in mugs.  I helped myself to a few packets
of sugar. and claimed a table for us.  The boys were excited to be having
such an adventure but, when I heard a toot from outside, I told the boys to
stay where they were while I nipped outside with the two mugs and the sugar
packets.

I got across the bridge to platform two just as the J15 came to a stand so
I passed the mugs up to Simon's fireman. He took them and thanked me while
I passed up the sugar and called across to Simon,

"See you in a minute."

The boys had not moved from the table.  They probably hadn't seen the train
come in as it was concealed by the other train.  I would have watched
through the carriage windows, but they hadn't learned to do that yet.  The
cake had disappeared so I said,

"Drink up, then we'll go and see Daddy."

Only Lloyd ever called Simon "Daddy".  The other two remembered their
natural parents only too well.  Nethertheless, I called Simon that for
Lloyd's benefit and the other two accepted it.

We were over the bridge in no time and the boys piled onto Simon's much
smaller footplate.

Simon's fireman walked to the ground frame and was soon calling Simon to
set back over the points.  We lifted the boys down before he moved the
engine.  They would have been much more visible on the J15's footplate,
with its smaller tender, and the run-round would be through platform one,
where there would be more people to see them.

We were seated in the train when the guard waved his flag and whistled for
Simon to set off.  Barry had never travelled on the line before so the
other two had to keep up a running commentary.  Lloyd, being an engine
driver himself, albeit on a smaller scale, was most knowledgeable and could
discourse on such subjects as the single line token, obeying signals,
facing points, adverse gradients - he had all the jargon.

"We have to slow down so that the fireman can take the token from the
signableman," we were told. "If it was a disiesel, and it was single
manned, we'd have to stop because the driver would have to collect it."

We crossed over with Ben's 9F at Weybourne and there was much waving at the
signalman as we left.

"Uncle Luke, Uncle Luke!" shouted Lloyd excitedly.

Well that was something I hadn't expected.  I wondered if he'd still be
around on Sunday.

At Holt the boys were on the footplate again.  This time Simon allowed them
to stay on while he ran round the train.  Holt is farther from most of the
NNR's management.  They were back with me for the journey back though.

We all waved at Luke as we arrived in Weybourne.  He shouted something but
I couldn't hear what.  There was no train in Weybourne as we ran in, so we
were obviously crossing Ben's train at Sheringham again.

When we arrived in Sheringham we all headed for the engine again.

"Don't take them back to Newton," said Simon.  "We're meeting Luke for
dinner after we finish."

That would be at least another three hours hence.  I don't know if either
of them had considered how I was to keep three boys amused for all that
time.  Simon had.

"Colin's the guard on Ben's train," he said.  "If you tell him you want to
go and see Luke, he'll take you up there.  Then Luke can bring you back
when he finishes."

Colin Carter was the father of Bobby Carter who had, because of my changes
of class, been in my class for the last three years.  We had been great
friends all that time for one simple reason.  Bobby was a delightful boy
who everybody loved - including both his father and myself.

We waved Simon off when his train departed, then made for the souvenir
shop.  We acquired a trainspotting book for Barry (the others had already
got them), and some more posters.  We went and looked for Colin, whose
train was on platform one, and explained the situation to him.

"Get in the brake," he said.  "We can soon get you to Weybourne."

We boarded and watched Colin preparing his train.  It was not long before
we were off.  Lloyd had not tired of delivering his commentary.  He even
had to tell us that we were arriving at Weybourne.  I half expected him to
say, "change here for Sheringham", since Simon's train was waiting in the
other platform.

Luke, as always, had the kettle on, and had lemonade for the boys.

When the trains had gone, he had to explain to the boys what everything in
the 'box did.  Lloyd was fascinated to learn how to operate the tablet
machines that issued the magical tokens to be handed from signalman to
fireman and vice versa.  He had long known what these instruments did, but
being actually shown how to operate one was something else.  Out came
Luke's book of block regulations.  I wondered whether Lloyd would have
learned all those bell codes by the time we left.

The bell on the Sheringham instrument rang once.

"What's one Loyd?" Luke asked.

"Call attention," the boy replied.

"Good lad.  What's "Train out of section?"".

"Two and one."

"Spot on.  Answer his call attention then."

Lloyd pressed the plunger on the instrument once.

Ting-ting ...ting, rang the bell.

"Right," said Luke, "now we turn that knob and we can push the drawer in.
Now you can answer his two-one."

Lloyd reached over and gave a double press on the plunger, followed by a
single one.  The bell rang once.

"You don't need to answer that.  It was just to get that window to show
"in" instead of "out".  That's Simon arrived at Sheringham."

He turned to his train register and entered the transaction in that.

That set the pattern for the afternoon.  At five o'clock Lloyd took out of
section for Simon's next trip and was immediately offered - and accepted -
a light engine.

"That'll be the 9F coming back for the shed," Luke told him.  "You can set
the road for the shed, but don't pull off yet.  He hasn't left Sheringham
yet."

Ting-ting, rang the bell.

"He's left now," said Lloyd, heading for the levers.

"Leave it Lloyd.  We'll make sure he's slowed down for those points before
we clear that signal," Luke said quickly.

Five minutes later a buzzer sounded and Lloyd pulled the red lever.  The 9F
quietly, and without fuss, trundled onto the shed.  Ben's fireman jumped
off at the points and brought the token to the 'box.

Luke watched while Lloyd took the tablet from the pouch, lifted the handle
to release the drawer.  Placed the tablet in the drawer and slammed it
shut.  He then lifted the handle again and lowered it.  He lifted it a
third time and opened the drawer again.  The tablet was nowhere to be seen.
Satisfied he closed the drawer and pressed the plunger once.

Ting, came the answering bell.

Lloyd reached across and pressed the plunger twice in succession and then
pressed it and held it in.

When he let it go the bell rang two pause one.  Lloyd pressed the plunger
once.  Ting came the bell.

Lloyd looked confused.

"Answer it," said Luke.  "He's giving you another one."

Lloyd pressed the plunger.  The bell immediately rang out two pause three.
Lloyd repeated that on the plunger, holding it in on the last plunge.

Ting, rang the bell when he released it.  The top window slid from "in" to
"out".

"That'll be Simon wanting the shed.  He might be a minute or two though
because he's got to push his stock out to the middle road," commented Luke.

Ting-ting, said the bell.

"Crumbs, he's already done it.  He wasn't hanging about."

When Simon's engine ran onto the shed Lloyd sent "train out of section" for
it.  The signalman at Sheringham acknowledged that and Luke took over to
close the signal box.

Now you might wonder what Philip and Barry thought of all this.  Well,
apart from continuing to drink lemonade, they didn't think a lot one way or
the other.  Lloyd was the driver of the engine at home and neither boy had
ever complained about that.  Lloyd was the railwayman.  They were
enthusiasts who, while admiring Lloyd, never questioned that doing, while
they spectated, was his right.