Part 4: Day 2 Part 1: The Apple Train

Nigel had a late night and scryed himself to sleep, but he's up bright and early on day 2 of his unplanned holiday.



I direct him downstairs and hear a shfff of something coming through the mail slot. Sure enough-



Someone's given us a newspaper (Morgan?) and another little note.



I'm starting to get a little worried about the cats...



Oh, uhhhhhh

Maybe Nigel shouldn't have been telling everyone he's a treasure hunter, or wearing that hat. Well, we can't let a freaky letter dissuade us. Let's go.



I seem to remember Hardacre telling us to take a walk along the beach, or something. Let's do that! On the way there though, let's stop in and see what Morgan's up to (and check on her cat).



Harbour Cottage is a spooky place.
Spooky? Whatever do you mean?
Haunted, perhaps? I've heard, and seen, strange things.
Noises? It's probably just the harbour. Don't let it worry you.
Oh, I'm not worried. It's rather exciting, actually.


The May high tides must be good for business?
Yes, you could say that. We Saxtonians look forward to this time.
Yes, time... just out of interest...
Yes, Mr. Danvers?
What year is it?
What year? Ha! What a question.
And one you won't answer?
And why should I?


Professor Hardacre toldme to leave Saxton.
All bluster and hot air, Nigel. He's harmless really.
Harmless?! I think he's mad. Is he mad?
Just a bit... how can I put this... eccentric.
OK, well, I'll try to stay out of his way.


Does the pub have any ghosts?
No, not that I know of.
I'll catch you later.
Perhaps.


Cat status: Fine



Beach time! When we get there, we see this man:



Nigel can talk to him, kind of, but every time Nigel says "excuse me..." the man replies with cartoonish grumbles. Hruh hurmmugh!





Nigel still won't go inside the cave. There's nothing else to do here, so let's go get breakfast. That's at the Lighthouse Cafe, up by the phonebox.




We can look in the window:


The screen fades to black for 5 seconds and ambient restaurant noise happens. Nigel comes out with:



I send Nigel up the path a little farther, and guess who we meet!



She's standing in front of a house named The Ark, though you can't see the sign here. We can say hello and chat about some things with her.



Hello again, and hello George.
Ah ha. We meet again, Mr. Danvers.
Is there somewhere I can learn about the town?
Oh yes, indeed. The museum should satisfy your curiosity.
A museum? Where is it?
Right there. That's the outer wall. You will find the entrance at the top of this path.
Excellent. I'll be sure to pop in.
Professor Oogle is away this morning.
Oogle? (He says this 'Oogle' is some kind of funny name)
Yes, the curator, and a dear friend.
I see. When will the museum open?
Oh, pop back this afternoon.


I see a Fayre is arriving in town.
Yes, it's a yearly event, for May Day. Do you like fairgrounds?
No, not really... they tend to be loud, garish, and full of crims.
Oh! What a thing to say. Keep an open mind. You may like Reuban's Fair.


Can you suggest some places to visit?
Indeed I can!

Then we get a little subset of questions:



Any antique shops? Bookshops? Craft shops?
There is an antiques shop, but... I tend to avoid the place.
Why's that?
It's unpleasant. I avoid it. I suggest you do the same.
OK, what about local crafts?
Say hello to Bob. Bob Tawny. He has a workshop on Station Lane. You'll like Bob. He's a kind and helpful soul. He's a true Saxton soul...
What do you mean?
His destiny lies here, in the town. Like mine.
You've been here a long time?
We are here forever. As it always has been.


Is The Lighthouse good for food?
Oh yes. Organic local produce only.
Great. I thought food outside of London was horrible.
Not here, Nigel. Not in Saxton.


What about achaeology?
The museum is your best bet. Come back this afternoon.


I'd love to learn more about the town's ghosts.
Would you now? That's very interesting.
Why? Do you think it's silly?
Not at all. Just be careful who you seek.
What do you mean?
Not all of Saxton's dead were pleasant souls in life. So don't expect pleasant souls in death.
I'll keep that in mind.
Pop back later, for tea. I'll have something for you.


Can you take a look at this item?
Of course. I'll help if I can.


We can show her various items from our inventory, and she'll comment on most of them. She is the only character who does that. Here's what she has to say about the items currently in our inventory:
Nigel's ID - You may change it al. Time will tell.
Nigel's notepad - You are getting amazing results.
Saxton map - Saxton is an isolated town.
Saxton Snappers pamphlet - You may be in luck. Seek your destiny.
Cat watch poster - A terrible business...
Catnapping newspaper - Yes, vanished without trace. Dratted creatures.
Creepy note - Oh dear god. Whoever would do such a thing?

Everything else gets a generic "I wish I could help" message.

I'll let you get on with your gardening.
See you soon, my dear.


All right, we'll be back later for tea. We still don't know this woman's name. Good people skills, Nigel. He has also managed to nearly insult her friend and her town's fair, and possibly upset her by waving that creepy note in her face. But somehow she still likes him. Is that what makes a true Saxton soul?

Let's go look at the museum. We know it's closed, but here it is:



That bell should look familiar. Take a look also at the sign on the warehouse, you'll see that kind of thing again. For now let's go track down that blacksmith.



Oh hey- it's YOU.



Hello there!
Oh, hello.
How's the story going?
What?
Your story? For the local newspaper?
Oh that. Yes, it's fine. Plenty to write up.
Good, good. Well, um... that's good.


It's Alex, isn't it?
Yes, that's right.
Alex... Spitmoor?
Yes, what of it?
Strange name, what's the origin?
No idea. Buzz off, will you?


Any theories on the treasure?
Nope. Run along and play.
I'll see you around.
You will, trust me.


I try to give him back his press pass, but Nigel just says "that's not right," like I'm doing a puzzle wrong. I guess it really was finder's keepers. Ah well, screw 'im.

Here's the smithy workshop. Let's look in the door to the right, first.




A piggy!



Named Cairan! We can give him Nigel's lunch. What a cutie.

HEY! I wonder if I can get more pizza from The Lighthouse?








(that's a cookie)

I could do this indefinitely it seems, but the food has started repeating. One last tidbit:



Well that was fun. I wonder what Alex thought of us walking up and down the lane for the last 5 minutes. All I care about is that I've made a piggy happy. What was I supposed to be doing here again?



Hey look, it's Bob Tawny! You remember Bob, he was hanging the bunting and wouldn't fix the Cottage electricity. Tawny, Tawny.... does that name seem familiar? Let's say hi.

Hello again.
Hello lad. What can I do for you?



It turns out we do know the woman's name, I guess. Is this an instance of Nigel having the same name-knowing powers as the townspeople, or just a scripting oversight? We may never know.

Nanny Noah sent me.
Did she now. Why would that be?
I'm trying to learn about local crafts and folklore.
I'm a bit busy right now... but I get into The Bear most evenings.
Ok, I'll see you in the pub.


This workshop is old fashioned.
Is that a good thing or a bad thing, do you say?
I don't know. Does all this stuff work?
Work? Course it works! If you've got something needs fixing, bring it up here, and ol' Tawny'll fix it for you.
I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Tawny.


Have you known Nanny Noah long?
All my life, lad, and that's a long time.
She seems to think highly of you.
I think highly of her too.
Oh! I see. Do I sense romance?
Oh, if only, lad. But I've never... well, asked her hand, if you know what I mean.
Has she never married?
She had a bit of bad fortune. Lost her husband. Many years ago, it was.
Any children?
There was, but not now. The sea provides for this town, but it can also take away.
What do you mean?
It's the way of all things, lad.


Oh, poor Nanny Noah. I suppose that explains some of what she said on the beach yesterday.


Can you tell me about the Anglo-Saxon treasure?
Oh, you after the treasure are you? Can't help you there.
I thought everyone in Saxton would know about it.
I didn't say I didn't know anything.
I see.
No ofense, lad.
I'll leave you to your work.
See you again, lad.


Goodness! Well we've certainly learned a lot so far today. We'll talk to Bob again later, but let's just check out these photos before we leave-






"Cole Tawny" ... We've seen him before, kind of.

Well, we'll leave him to his work. Let's head back to the Cottage.



Oh another letter? Do... we want to open it...?



Oh okay. Finally, someone who DOESN'T know his name! Does that mean we can trust her?



As promised, there's Lucy. And she's got a skateboard!

Good morning.
Oh, good morning. Where did you spring from?
Right here. I'm staying in the cottage.
Harbour Cottage?! (Why is she surprised? She knew where to leave the note.)
Well, yes. Why, what's wrong?
You tell me. Everything OK in there, is it?
Well, it's got no power, refrigerator, TV, hi-fi...
That's not what I meant. That place has... a reputation. A bad one.
You didn't strike me as the superstitious kind, Ms. Reubans.
Oh, look. Forget last night, I was tired and cold. Call me Lucy.



What's the deal with Harbour Cottage?
I'm not sure. We've always been told to stay away.
Haunted, perhaps?
Oh no, please don't tell me you're a "believer."
In ghosts? Well, I've seen a few things, you know... unexplainable.
Unexplainable. Yes, that's one word for it.
Are you okay?
Yes, it's just that place. I had a bad experience there as a child.
Want to talk about it?
No, it was silly stuff. Childhood fears, insecurities, monsters!


It's freezing out here, can't you feel it?
Bad night? Late night? Too much local ale?
Bad dreams. A vision... of a room.
That place will do your head in. You need to get out and about.
Any suggestions?
Ooooh, Saxton's the tourist capital of the universe. The sea air might clear your head, or you could try the caverns.
Caverns?
Yeah, just towards the back of the beach. Watch out for Hardacre though. I saw him heading that way with his treasure hunting stuff. Sorry, I mean... archaeology equipment.


What do you know of the townspeople?
Not a lot, but I'll help if I can.


We get a little subset again here:



Professor Hardacre's a strange one.
Ha! I know! Every year he turns up, looking for treasure. Always digging, always hunting. Sad really.
Why sad?
He has nothing else to do. And no-one else. He's devoted to his quest.


The old woman, with the dog...
Nanny Noah? Oh, she's a sweet old thing.
I met her last night, by the water's edge. She seemed...
Distant? Yes, she gets like that. There's a tragedy in that woman's past. The signs are there.
She seems very lonely.
Yes, there was something between her and Bob Tawny, but... well, it's all palm reading, herbal teas, and magic with her now.
Oh, a bit 'new age' is she? Well I never.


What about the pub landlady?
Morgan? Bold as horse brass she is, and just as tacky.
You don't get on?
No. She was a bully at school. Once a bully, always a bully.
Is that your professional analysis?
Ha! I've got better minds to study than Morgan Mankle's.


Let's talk about something else.
Okay, what do you want to know?
You must live nearby?
That's right. We live by the harbour.
We?
Me, Mum, Dad... you know, the usual.
Ah ha. So you all organize the Fayre.
You'd hope, but Mum likes long afternoons with the gin bottle, whereas Dad prefers to flirt with the horses at the track. But each May, the Fayre does happen in this town, so it's not all bad.
Catch you later.
Without doubt, my friend.

That was interesting! At least she didn't call us "desperate" this time. I'm not really sure what led to her really informative change of heart, but it seems she's our friend now. We leave her to her sick board-shredding and go harrass Hardacre.



This time Nigel goes in.

Hardacre? Professor. So this is where you hide yourself? With the crabs and the fish heads?
Is there something you want, Danvers?



About our meeting last night, on the harbour wall.
Meeting? I didn't meet you last night, Danvers.
We did meet, last night...
Get lost, Danvers. I've got proper work to do.


Is the treasure hidden amongst these rocks?
If you look close enough, you can see the signs.


What can you tell me about the lost Anglo-Saxon crown?
Things that are lost are waiting to be found... but what of those precious items that have been hidden? Stashed away for good reason? Should we go looking for treasures we are not supposed to find?
Yes. It's just a folk tale, isn't it?
It takes skill, understanding, and a strong mind to find what's hidden out there in the fens. It's an old land, which can be unforgiving to those who blunder in with their eyes closed and their chins wagging.


Know any local ghost stories?
Take that cottage, Harbour Cottage, that you'll be staying in. Know much about it, do you?
Are you saying the cottage is haunted?
Listen out tonight, as you're driving into sleep. Listen for the sounds.
Sounds? What sounds?
You'll know, soon enough. They always do.
Good hunting, Professor.
Run along boy, and play with the crabs.


So... he denies meeting us last night, but says almost exactly the same things? I'm not really sure what to think here. I have Nigel peek one screen further into the cave, but then he won't go any farther. As Nigel leaves, Hardacre stops him:

Not so fast, Danvers.
Yes, Professor?
What's in that package?
What package?
I saw the Station Master, struggling with it across the fens, from Sedgemarsh.
Oh, that. Nothing to worry yourself. Just equipment.
Archaeology equipment?
Maybe. I guess I should go collect it.
It'll be waiting at Saxton Station. Run along.


Oh! The mail! The mail is here! A package for Nigel! I hurry to the train station, which if you have a peek at the map, is just past this place, which Nanny Noah warned us against:





Before we grab that crate with our greedy ghost-hunter mitts, let's look around a little. We can look at most of those photos, to some degree.




Uh, hang on a second. What time was it before? Let me just look up close and back out of some of these pictures for a bit:



That's ummmm interesting? Let's say hi to Station Master too. We're chums.



Station Master!
Mr. Danvers! Saxton treating you well, is it?
Station Master, do you live in Saxton?
That I do. Did the young lady get her purse back?
Delivered personally.
Oh, well done sir.



What news, Station Master?
I hear Harbour Cottage has a new tenant?
Me.
Ahhh... thought it might be. Err... everything alright, is it?
No, not really. There's no power. And...
... and what?
I'm not sure. There's something strange... in the dark. Something...
A loud bell rings
Oh, haha. Look at us spooking ourselves!


Still no trains, Station Master?
No trains today. The spring-
-spring tides flood the fens... I know.
Nothing wrong with good ol' leg work.
So, the train tracks are safe to walk?
Well, I didn't say that. But you should be quite safe... during the day.
Oh, are there night trains?
No, but the tracks are... different at night.


Is this a station or a museum?
A station of course. But we are proud of our past.
I'm guessing your father worked on the trains?
Yes, and his father before him.
So these photographs are personal to you?
When they stay up!
What do you mean?
Blasted things have a habit of falling down during the night.


I imagine this station has a tale to tell...
Oh, indeed it does. A right royal treasury of twice told tales.
Are any specific to the tracks, or these photos?
Well, there was the great crash, back in the 20's... the old apple train heading for London. Back in my father's time.
What happened?
He was Master of this station, back then. The apple train ran from Northfield Junction to London... carrying fruit for the local bigwig, Master Gurney.



He owned all the land around Northfield, and that train. Packed full of ripe apples it was, and his 'sorting staff.'
Sorting staff? To sort the apples?
That's right. Poor souls. Paid penies they were. That train had been running for... ooh... nigh on thirty years when it happened.
What did happen, Station Master?
It was the last train that evening, and a foggy night it was. My poor dad was out in the cold, at Northfield Junction, waiting...



... waiting to change the tracks. He could hear the train approaching through the fog, so like he'd done a hundred times, he pulled the lever to divert the train on its course. Only the lever jammed. Stuck fast. My dad swore the fog itself seemed to curl and twist itself around that junction. It was a queer business, no mistake.
Go on, Station Master.
Well, my father thought fast, like anyone would do in such sircumstance. The train would de-rail when it hit that junction, so he lit his lamp to a fiery red, burning bright in the darkness. Old Tonker, the driver, could spot a red lamp a mile off... normally. But that damned fog... Shouting he was, my poor old dad. That apple train was not slowing for no-one. Then it happened. The great engine loomed up out of the fog... it caught the rails and screamed out its agony. My father threw himself into the reeds by the side of the track and watched in horror as the carriages toppled and fell into the river. He could hear the screams of the men on-board. Men he'd known all his life. Trapped on the train as the cargo fell upon them. Pushing deeper into that murky water.
Oh my god, the drowned?
Every one of 'em. My dad tried to pull them free, but the bodies were...
Were what? Please, tell me...
Beyond hope. Smashed to pieces amongst the apples. The sweet smell of apples, and the sweet, sickly smell of blood. He only spoke of it once... that same night in The Bear.



A few brandies helped. They always do. Oh boy, that was a night we'd never forget. My poor old dad. Oh, listen to me, getting all emotional. I blame you, sir. Time to get back to work.


Phew. Does he tell that story to all the tourists?

Let's ummm just take our package and get going.




Next update: What's in the box?!


Are you guys starting to wonder about dates and years yet?