#undignified

Henry narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What was that?”

Blank faced, Gordon replied, “What was what?”

“That thing you did with your eyes!” pipped Percy*1.

“Its a human expression” Gordon patiently explained. 

“I’ve seen some of the passengers do it on the platform. I’ve been watching them for some time and I’ve figured out what it means; it’s body language you know”.

Henry looked confused.

Engines, of course, are not too familiar with body language, or at least the human equivalent. 

“Like when engines whoosh steam at each other?” asked Percy, insightfully.

Henry grimaced. 

“You’re sure the passengers don’t just have something in their eye?” asked James, smirking.

Gordon scoffed smugly, “It’s a status symbol little James. It means I’m important.”

Henry scowled slightly, unconvinced. 

Then, “Actually, Gordon, have your eyelashes always been so … long?”

“Of course my Dear Henry, a Grand Engine such as myself was built with Elegance and Grace in mind!”

Rather awkwardly, Duck interjected.

“On the Great Western Railway, engines had to abide by a Dress Code.”*2 

The others quieted and turned their gazes to stare at Duck, unimpressed.

“Was that railway actually a cult?” Henry muttered to himself.

After a brief and deliberate silence Duck continued, “Of course, most of it was about the intricacies of various livery paint patterns, but there was a personal grooming section too. Your eyelashes are too long!”*3  

While Duck smirked, Gordon thundered (quite too loud for that time of night, and frankly too loud for daytime either) ,”A grooming code for eyelashes?!? Of all the nonsense-”

Luckily for everyone in the shed, and the city folk trying to get to bed, as well as the Fat Controller, who would still get some complaints the next morning, but not as many as if Gordon had continued into a full blown tirade, Edward had heard some relevant Gossip.

“I say, you two,” he glanced at Duck and Gordon to indicate who he meant, “have you heard there is a new barber shop for engines?”

They both indicated that they hadn’t.

“Apparently the Crosby Barber got in contact with the architect that repaired your accident at Peel Godred, Gordon”, Edward smiled sweetly. 

“What!?!” exclaimed Duck, as Gordon, as well as the towns people, groaned.

And so the shed fell quiet as Edward told his tale.

“Well, I was talking to one of the scrapping twins, the other day - Yes James, if you grin and bear their attitude, they get bored with teasing and eventually start to make idle chatter”.

“But-”

“Really, it’s just like dealing with you engines. Anyway, every two or three months one of the twins comes down to Crock’s Scrapyard to take away the pieces too big to melt down there. One, Bert I believe, was doing just that, when I was forced to stop at a signal nearby. Eventually I inquired about his stubble, and now this is fascinating, apparently, their drivers used to shave them with the scrapping torches!”

The shed shuddered at this uniquely disturbing yet on brand image.

“Anyway, the two diesels weren’t exactly satisfied with the rough shave their drivers would give them, and eventually word got out to the Crosby Station master, and then to the barber. Apparently he’s loaned one of the smelter’s torches, and Bert says he gives a much better shave with his technical skill. Plus, I imagine it will become quite the tourist attraction!”

Duck looked ill at the thought, but Henry asked,” Wait, so their hair just... grows?”

“I suppose”

“Huh”

“Huh”

“Huh” (ect)

“Are there really enough engines on this island that would have need a barber?*4” asked Gordon, his incredulousness prodding him to break his silence. 

“I suppose there is Terence?” offered Percy. “That is hair on his head right?”

“In any case, the barber and the smelter manager worked out a deal. A small truck has been stationed up at Crosby, and when its full, one of the smelter twins will take it up after their appointment, as payment”

“Wait so would we have to pay?” asked Percy. 

“Search me,” replied Edward. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we.”

“Perhaps one of you might one day,” grumbled Gordon, “But I’m keeping my eyelashes the way they are.”