A Sky Full of Stars-a FalmouthVerse Side Story

Chapters

Guten Morgan, Fraulein Skylight
For some Reason I can't Explain
Surprises, Surprises
Of Steel and Starry Skies
My Greatest Regret
Wing and a Prayer
Wedding Bell Blues
Grow Old with Me
A Box just for Wishes
The Dreams We Built Together
Credits
Intro

Guten Morgan, Fraulein Skylight

The alarm cut through the stillness of the room like a blade piercing packaging material, reducing the stillness to nothing but a brief moment of frenzied chaos. It was always like this on an early morning, especially far from home.

After a few moments of beeping, a hand moved over and pushed some of the buttons on top, trying to silence it. "Alright, I'm getting up!"

Eventually, the alarm stopped, and the occupant of the room slipped out from under the covers. "Wasn't expecting a time change of one hour to do such a number on me."

The speaker, a woman, wandered over to the mirror that sat on one of the walls and sighed. She looked a mess. Her nightgown had creases in it (perhaps she would iron those out after the meeting), and her purple hair was doing its best impression of a Van de Graaff generator. Her green eyes seemed to glow in the semi darkness of the room, and she walked towards the coffee machine to switch it on.

That was something she wasn't used to. For her prior business trips she'd only been away for a short period. And that meant cheaper hotels with fairly basic facilities. And some seriously uncomfortable beds.

She tore open one of the bags and removed the coffee package inside. It looked oddly like a teabag, which she found slightly amusing. Maybe they'd serve it like this more often in the UK. She slipped it onto the tray, closed it, added some water, and then pushed the start button.

As it started brewing, her mind began to wander. Truth be told she struggled to get going in the morning without a shot of caffeine, and the change in time, to her surprise, had somewhat messed with her mind. But she could scarcely have imagined even a few years back that her life would take her to the other side of the Atlantic.

Right now, Rhode Island seemed like it was a million miles away, on the other side of an ocean and with part of a continent in the way. Her work had resulted in her being reassigned to the United Kingdom, to a place called Bristol. Living there had been quite the culture shock for the young American. Everybody spoke differently, but the climate wasn't too different. Even so, she did somewhat stick out. She'd used American English in some cases, which had caused confusion (good thing she hadn't tried to put gas in that car, or else that would have been the end of her). Even her accent was a topic of discussion, with plenty of people surprised to encounter an American living in the UK. She'd lost track of how many people had said she sounded like a movie star. Despite the initial challenges (and the sleepless nights as her brain tried to work through the jetlag), she'd managed to build a circle of friends in her new home, partly connected to her job.

Mind you, her dating life hadn't entirely been plain sailing. She'd casually dated different guys at high school, then seemed to find something more serious at college. Shame the guy had stood her up out of nowhere, but maybe it was for the best. She got the sneaking suspicion he was only interested in her looks, not in who she was on the inside.

Oh well. His loss, not hers.

The machine beeped to indicate the coffee was done, and she took it out and added some milk. She usually had to add quite a lot of milk to these sorts of coffees, as they were incredibly strong compared to what she was used to.

There was suddenly a knock at the door, and she turned the chair. "Hello?"

"Goldie?" called a voice. "Good, you're up. Make sure you're down in the lobby by 7:45. Meeting starts at nine, and we have a briefing to go over before that."

"Got it!" Goldie replied, before going back to her coffee. She'd finish this off, then shower.

Hopefully her suit hadn't become too messed up in flight. There was always an element of chaos to long haul travel with suitcases. No matter how neatly you packed things some items would always end up in a weird state. Her iron would probably get a workout when she got home.

Now that her drink was done, she could go shower, as her brain was now up to full speed. She got up from the chair and opened the windows to reveal the city beyond.

Her travels had taken her to a city that many struggled to locate on a map. Dresden had once been on the wrong side of the wall, but now that Germany had reunified there were plenty of opportunities for the aspiring businessman. Or businesswoman in her case.

One of those requirements was transport. It rather went without saying that the equipment used by the old Reichsbahn was showing its age, and urgently needed replacement. This was where she came in. The new national rail carrier, Deutsche Bahn, needed new rolling stock and fast, and had been seeking potential buyers.

Luckily, VivaRail had just the thing they could use. Or at least that was the official line. That was the purpose of this meeting, to convince those in charge at DB that the stock they had in mind was just the thing for their needs.

Goldie popped into the shower, and then emerged again a few minutes later, looking less like she'd been dragged through a bush backwards. She then popped into the walk in closet to get dressed. Walk in closets. Another mark of how upmarket this hotel was. In many places she'd stayed getting dressed consisted of awkward spots wedged in next to beds.

After a few minutes she was finally ready to go, and stepped out towards the door. She'd selected her usual business attire for this meeting, consisting of black polished shoes, a pair of black stockings, a dark blue knee length skirt, a beige blouse, and a dark blue business jacket. This, she felt, set the right balance between formality and practicality.

She picked up her hairband from a nearby dresser and quickly tied her hair back into her signature ponytail. It'd do no good to have her hair flopping all over the place.

She grabbed her room key and placed it in her pocket before grabbing her files and slipping them into her briefcase. Once they were safely in place, she stepped out of the room and closed the door, before walking the short distance to the elevator.

It was a short downward ride to the lobby, and the doors slid open with a ding. The elevators in Germany seemed to think they were streetcars with all the bells. There was also a further set of steps to reach the lobby, and so she started towards these.

She was partway down them when suddenly-

"LOOK OUT!"

Before Goldie could react she suddenly bumped into something, and grabbed the nearby hand rail to stop herself from falling. She looked about, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Is everybody OK?" she asked.

"I don't think he is," said a nearby voice.

Goldie stepped closer to what had been indicated to her. On the bottom of the lobby floor, a man was frantically reaching around for something. He seemed to be a similar age to her, and had blue skin and darker blue hair, as well as an unusually full beard and moustache for somebody his age. He was dressed for the season too, with a cold winter jacket and heavy pants coupled with boots. He also seemed to have a camera bag over his shoulder.

Goldie then spotted a pair of glasses on the floor, and walked over to pick them up. "Were you looking for these?" she asked, handing them to him.

The man nodded. "Thanks." He popped them on his face and stood up. "Can't see without them. You know, I don't know what hap-"

He abruptly stopped speaking as he looked at her, seemingly in a trance.

"Are you OK?" Goldie asked.

The man shook his head. "Sorry, just a bit dazed. I should really look where I'm going."

"Argyle?!" called a voice. "We've got to go! The Kriekslok's due through in fifteen minutes!"

"On my way!" Argyle replied. He then looked back. "Sorry for all the bother, ma'am." He then headed off in the other direction.

Goldie blinked in slight confusion. As she walked over to her colleagues, she called to him. "Hey, wait! You left you-"

But the man was well out of earshot. Goldie slipped the item into her briefcase to return it to him later.

She stopped where her fellows were, and they looked at her. "Who was that guy?" said one.

"No clue," Goldie admitted. "I literally just walked into him. What an unusual man."

Another worker looked over. "I think somebody has a crush," he said, jokingly.

"Shush, you," Goldie replied. It was just one interaction.

And what the heck was a Kriegslok anyway?

Author's Note

Hello, everybody, and welcome to my first long form side story! As many users have been requesting this narrative, I have decided to bring the story of Argyle and Goldie Starshine to life, showcasing the road that led them to where they are today.

This first chapter is modelled on my own experiences of travel. As I have travelled a fair bit of the United States and Europe, I have stayed in many different hotels. These have varied from the extremely nice to somewhat run-down. In particular, this bit is modelled on the Marriot in St. Louis, MO, where I stayed earlier this year whilst travelling Route 66.

People commenting on Goldie's accent is based on anecdotes of British people interacting with American servicemen during WW2. For many of them, this was the first time they'd ever met an American, and as such found them quite exotic. One woman, interviewed many years later, recalled that the accents were much cause for fascination, as they sounded like the actors they saw in films. I got the same in reverse; I was once informed that I sound like Harry Potter (despite having a different accent to Daniel Radcliffe), and I could have played a drinking game with the number of times a person in the South said to me 'I just love y'all's accent.'

The elevator joke is an allusion to my own experience of public transit in Denver, Colorado, where the busses and trams appear to have an identity crisis; trams have horns whilst busses have bells. It's very confusing.

Can any of you guess who the guy Goldie bumped into is? Otherwise, stay tuned for more tomorrow!

For some Reason I can't Explain

Unfortunately, sometimes getting people organised is like herding cats. This was no exception, as there was usually at least one straggler with no sense of timekeeping.

As the last of the management arrived, they could finally set off. As far as the cloakroom, at least. Dresden was pretty cold at that time of year. Goldie was used to the cold and the snow, having grown up in a part of the world that got two feet of snow on average each year, but she still valued her winter coat. It had been given to her as a present by her father before she left to begin her new life in Europe, and as such it meant more to her than a means of keeping warm.

It was a tangible link to her homeland.

But finally everybody was ready, and they set off. The building in which the meeting was happening was just across the railway tracks, and as a result they didn't need a bus or anything like that. That was another thing Goldie had taken some time getting used to- there were considerably more busses and trains than back in Rhode Island in this neck of the woods.

As the group headed on their way towards the crossing, the lights on the crossing started to beep, and the barriers started to drop, indicating a train was waiting. At least one blessing of living here in Europe was that trains were a lot shorter. Some days back in the United States she would have to wait ages for a train to pass through a crossing.

"Ready yourself!" shouted a voice. "The Kriegslok's coming!"

"Got it!" shouted another.

Goldie looked in the direction of the voices, and saw one man holding a big, bulky camera which was mounted to his shoulder. The other man, whom she recognised as the man she'd walked into by mistake, was holding something much smaller, almost like an early portable camera. Though given this group she would hardly have been surprised if one of them had one of the old boxes on a tripod that had a cloth you had to stand under.

A voice then shouted in another language. It was too indistinct for Goldie to make out, though.

Seconds later, a loud puffing sound started up, and seemed to be getting louder. Maybe this was the Kriegslok thing they were talking about?

A whistle echoed through the street, and in that moment a large steam engine roared past, steam belching from its chimney and producing an incredible racket. It roared by, and a long set of coaches followed behind it as it flew through. Eventually, it vanished into the distance, and the noise from the barriers stopped.

Much to the relief of motorists, the barriers started to lift, meaning they could start driving again. The bus drivers were also happy too, and Goldie overheard some grumbling from a nearby pedestrian. Something about sad men disrupting our daily lives- she didn't catch all of it.

As she was walking forward, she overheard the conversation between the two men. "Did you get that?"

"Sure did! That was quite something. I wonder if Eric Treacy felt that when he snapped something big going through."

"I'll need to edit out the noise of the crossing barriers, mind." Both men turned to leave.

Goldie was about to leave them to it, when suddenly she overheard a voice speaking. "Halt! Ich muss mit euch beiden sprechen." (Halt! I need to speak to both of you.)

Both men turned and looked in confusion at what appeared to be a member of Deutsche Bahn staff. "Err, which one of us speaks German?" the man with the glasses asked, looking somewhat nervous. "Excuse me, could we have this conversation in English?"

"Was hast du gemacht, als du die Züge fotografiert hast?" (What were you doing photographing the trains?)

It was obvious the man with the glasses couldn't understand what was being asked, but luckily there was somebody who did. Goldie walked over and spoke up. "I'll translate." She turned to the official. "Diese beiden Herren sprechen kein Deutsch, deshalb übersetze ich in ihrem Namen. Was war Ihre Frage an sie?" (These two gentlemen do not speak German, so I'll translate on their behalf. What was your question for them?)

The official nodded. "Was hast du gemacht, als du die Züge fotografiert hast?" (What were you doing photographing the trains?)

Goldie turned to the men. "What were you doing photographing the trains?"

The man with the glasses nodded. "We're railway enthusiasts, here for the Plandampf. We were taking pictures of the train that just passed for the railway club we're part of."

Goldie nodded, and turned back. "Sie sind Eisenbahnbegeisterte und wegen des Plandampfs hier. Sie machten Fotos von dem Zug, der gerade als der Eisenbahnclub galt, dem sie angehören." (They're railway enthusiasts, here for the Plandampf. They were taking pictures of the train that just passed for the railway club they're part of.)

The official nodded, his face now much more understanding. "Ich verstehe. Zu dieser Jahreszeit sind bei uns oft Eisenbahnbegeisterte anzutreffen, also bitte ich um Entschuldigung, meine Herren. Ich bitte Sie nur, in Zukunft etwas weiter von der Absperrung entfernt zu stehen, um das Verletzungsrisiko zu verringern." (I understand. We often get railway enthusiasts around this time of year, so my apologies, gentlemen. I just ask that in future you stand a little further back from the barrier to reduce the risk of injury.)

Goldie then turned back again. "He understands and apologises for being abrupt with you. He just asks that in future you stand a little further back from the barrier to reduce the risk of injury."

The man with the glasses nodded. "We can do that. Apology accepted."

Goldie turned to the official. "Das können sie. Ihre Entschuldigung wird angenommen." (They can do that. Your apology is accepted.)

The situation resolved, Goldie headed off with the group once again.

The meeting went surprisingly well, and sure enough Goldie had her first succesful business trip in her pocket. That meant she could take the evening a little easier, though as she didn't know Dresden all too well she decided to stay at the hotel. She was walking to the dining room when she spotted the man with the glasses from earlier. He was looking through some photographs from earlier.

Goldie sighed. "Excuse me, may we talk?"

The man looked up. "Hello. What about?"

"Sorry for walking into you earlier. Oh, and you left this behind." She passed him a small pouch.

The man smiled. "My spare battery! Thank you. And it's alright. I've had a few knocks in my time. Thanks for getting me out of that scrape at the level crossing."

Goldie nodded. "No problem. Are you going for dinner?"

"Probably should do. Why?"

"I'll pay for your meal."

"You don't have to." Goldie had noticed something odd; the man hadn't made eye contact throughout the entire conversation. Then again, he was checking his photos.

"I insist. It'll make up for knocking you over earlier."

The man put the images away. "I must say that's very generous of you. Thanks."

Sure enough, they did, and as they ate the conversation continued. "What's your name?" Goldie asked.

"Albert," the man replied. "Most people call me Argyle, though. My dad was fascinated with old Scottish kingdoms, even if the surname is an old English one."

"I'm Gloria," Goldie replied. "I usually go by Goldie or Goldenella though. I'm fine with you using either."

"That's a lovely name," Argyle said. "So, what brings an American to Dresden? Military family?"

"No, actually," Goldie answered. "Business. My company had a deal here; I'm usually in the UK. What about you?"

Argyle smiled. "Well, my dad was in the air force and was stationed in the UK when I was born, as well as my brother and sister. When he was discharged he chose to stay, and so did I. Not to mention I get plenty of chances to chase trains."

"You did seem quite excited at what passed through."

"Tell me about it." Argyle's eyes suddenly seemed to light up. "There was that one time I was following a Black 5, I think it was 44767? The one with Stephenson Link Motion, if I recall correctly. I was waiting on the moor and just then it appeared, looming out of the fog and the driver was really giving the steam chest a workout."

Goldie blinked. "I don't mean to be rude, but I didn't follow all of that. I understand the basics (as selling railroad equipment is part of my job), but the more technical aspects of steam engines are somewhat a mystery to me."

"Sorry," Argyle replied. "I spend most of my time interacting with other enthusiasts, so it's easy to forget."

Goldie also noticed something about Argyle. He hadn't commented on her appearance once. Normally at this point somebody would have done so, which she found annoying.

Still, he seemed nice enough, if a tad awkward, and there was something about his childlike enthusiasm that was oddly endearing to her.

Maybe they could try keeping in touch.

Author's Note

This next chapter, again told from Goldie's perspective, is something of an experiment on my part. I am very much aware that my primary market in writing in railway enthusiasts, so I set myself the challenge of trying to write from the perspective of somebody who has a passing interest rather than being a die-hard gricer.

Eric Treacy was a legendary railway photographer, best known for atmospheric photographs like this:

(York North Shed, 1954.)

His images, in many ways, came to capture the spirit of the steam age, and are often referenced in official media.

The word Kriegslok (short for Kriegslokomotive) refers to steam locomotives built in Germany between 1939 and 1945. In many ways the German version of the USATC S160 or WD 2-8-0, the engines have something of a negative reputation in Germany. This is because many were built using forced labour from concentration camps. The bulk of the class ended up in the former East Germany, which ceased using steam locomotives in daily service in 1988. As a result, many have survived into preservation, with a handful still in revenue earning service in Bosnia.

Plandampf (German for timetabled steam) is a rail program popular in Germany and Eastern Europe, where regular passenger trains are worked using steam locomotives and vintage coaches. This is partly made possible by the fact most of the steam era infrastructure is still in place in those countries, compared to the UK where the coaling towers and water pipes were removed soon after steam ended. Not surprisingly, they are popular with tourists and locals. My parents travelled on one such service about two weeks before I was born; my father jokes that's the reason I followed him into the hobby.

Surprises, Surprises

As much as seeing other nations and experiencing other cultures is a valuable cultural experience, there's no place like home. Even if that home is more than 3,000 miles away from where you were born, but that was a relatively minor issue all things considered.

Goldie yawned as the plane touched down at Heathrow Airport. It'd been a long flight, and even though the hour change was small (only one hour) flying was rather exhausting. At least she didn't have to drive anywhere afterwards. Heathrow Express got her directly to Paddington, where a train was waiting to whisk her back to Bristol.

After going through passport control and collecting her suitcase, Goldie made her way to the station and boarded the train. Only fifteen minutes later the electric train had arrived at Paddington, the electric hum joining the familiar roar and rumbling of diesel engines. Goldie couldn't understand why somebody would take a taxi to this part of London from Heathrow. It was much faster and cleaner by train, not to mention cheaper. Here, you didn't have to worry about traffic as somebody else did the driving.

She walked down the platform, seeing a group of people taking photos of the trains and comparing their shots. Railway enthusiasts, presumably. Her mind briefly wandered back to Argyle, the sight have reminded her of him. Where was he now, and what was he doing?

Oh well. Knowing that, in all likelihood, they would never cross paths again, she had wished him luck on any future endeavours he may embark on. He seemed a nice enough guy.

She crossed the concourse and boarded another train bound for Bristol, a diesel service helmed by a High Speed Train. According to a leaflet they were capable of 125 miles per hour, which was certainly very quick.

Quicker than driving, anyway.

Two hours later, Goldie stepped off the train at Bristol Temple Meads, and made her way through the streets back to her apartment. It was in a fairly pleasant part of the city, and the price wasn't too bad- her father had helped her secure it, but she'd insisted on paying him back. After all, one good turn deserves another.

She dropped her case off and quickly checked her phone, with her boss having messaged her. As was normal at VivaRail, employees who had just returned from business trips got the remainder of the day off to recover- after all, somebody who is dopey after flying will struggle to do their job properly.

Goldie knew precisely where to get herself perked up, though.

The Bristol Coffee Merchant and Canal Company was a popular venue with students, not to mention a major watering hole for Bristol's business community. Many a conversation and deal had been made there, and Goldie was no stranger to its brews. Many of them were close to what she had known as a student herself, so it was something of a homecoming.

She popped in through the door and placed her usual order, before joining the queue to wait for it. Three men were standing about whilst discussing something about Ash cans, not forming too orderly a line, and this was blocking the way to the spoons.

"Excuse me," she said to the first of them. "You wouldn't mind moving a bit? You're blocking the path a bit and..."

The words died in her throat as the man turned round. The last face she'd expected to see here looked back.

"Argyle?"

Argyle seemed frozen for a second, but then his face erupted into a grin. "Goldie! Fancy seeing you here!"

One of the other guys looked over. "You know her?"

"Bumped into her in Dresden on the photo trip I went on," Argyle explained. "Didn't expect to run into you again. Fancy stopping for a drink?"

Goldie nodded. "Provided you're not busy, that is."

"My meeting with my degree supervisor isn't for a few hours, so I can spare the time. Flat White's for me!"

Goldie waited for her latte to arrive, then picked it up and went over to the table Argyle had found and sat down. "Well, consider me surprised."

"I'm a student here," Argyle clarified. "Doctorate in Art Studies. I'm focusing on the role that global economic mindsets played in the development of American art in the early 20th Century."

Goldie nodded. "My company office is here, so it's possible we may run into each other."

The two continued talking, oblivious to the fact that Argyle's friends seemed amazed at the fact he was talking to a woman.

A few days later, Argyle was on his way north. The weekend had arrived (which meant no classes), and he was taking the opportunity to travel north to see family.

This was by train, naturally. Why would somebody like him own a car when trains can get you where you need to go? Even if some changes were needed, as relatively few trains went direct from Bristol to Leeds, it was still far more comfortable than driving, Argyle felt. You could sit back and let somebody else do the driving whilst Britain whizzed past your window.

Four hours after starting his journey, Argyle got off the train at Leeds Central, the HST he had travelled on roaring as it pulled away. Many cars were still in older liveries, as Virgin had only recently obtained the CrossCountry franchise.

Still, the station presented a riot of colour with so many train operators using it, and as such it merited a snap.

Once that was done, Argyle boarded a bus to take him the rest of the way. Luckily, there were seats on the top deck, so he could look down at things going by rather than have them squished up next to him.

His destination was what appeared to be a workshop on an old industrial site, with several cars sitting outside. After showing a pass, he stepped inside and stopped to see a car being worked on, with somebody underneath it.

"Just a second, I'll be done soon!" said a voice, from under the car. A few moments later, a rather tough looking man with brownish eyes and brown hair, as well as a brown beard that was greying in places, rolled out from underneath the car. His eyes lit up when he saw Argyle. "Ah! Argyle, my boy! Came to pay your old man a visit?"

"Yeah," Argyle said.

"We'll pop over to the house when I'm done," the man said. "Just got this last job to do." His radio then buzzed. "Yeah, this is Brad Starshine. Jack, we're starting to lockup now."

After being driven over to Brad's home, Argyle made tea for three people (as his mother Sarah was also there), then decamped to the living room.

"Trip up good?" Brad asked.

"Went nicely enough," Argyle replied. "Your car workshop still going strong?"

"Well, turns out a former aircraft mechanic is just what people are looking for when they need their cars fixed. Planes and cars aren't so different under the hood- lots of moving parts to keep them on the go. It's a good lesson you'll learn when you sign up."

Argyle looked surprised.

As did Sarah. "Brad, I thought that Argyle couldn't sign up."

"I was joking," Brad replied. "But enough about me. How did your trip to Dresden go?"

Argyle took his photos out of a sleeve and placed them on the table. "Got these developed at the chemist a few days back. I had to do the best with what I had, after all."

Brad looked at them, and smiled. "These are great!" he said. "Great sense of motion to them."

Argyle glanced up. "You think so?"

"Of course I do," Brad said. "I'm your dad, it's my job to support you."

"Thanks," Argyle said. "Of course, it was a bit challenging when a railway worker challenged us, but thankfully somebody translated for us. Met them later as well."

"What's his name?" Sarah asked.

"Her name," Argyle corrected. "She's called Gloria and was there on business. Even lives in Bristol, funnily enough."

Brad laughed. "So, when are you bringing her round?"

"I've only talked to her twice," Argyle sighed. "I'm not ready to start dating again after last time. I'm looking for something casual, like a friendship, right now." He looked down. "Not that it matters. I doubt I'll ever find love. Who'd find somebody like me attractive?"

Sarah placed a hand on Argyle's shoulder. "I'm certain there's somebody out there for you," she said soothingly.

"Exactly!" Brad said. "You know, one of my buddies at RAF Leeming was from Trinidad originally. He always had some sort of wisdom to impart, and once said to another buddy that every bread has its cheese."

"What's cheese got to do with it?" Argyle asked.

"It means that there's somebody out there for everybody, so don't give up hope," Brad said. "I'd more or less given up when I met your mom."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and Sarah went to answer it. "Looks like our guests are here!" she said.

Author's Note

Well, now the story can move forward a bit. The main arc is now well underway, and with Goldie back in Bristol things can only look up for Miss Skylight.

Heathrow Express is an express passenger train service that connects Heathrow Airport to London Paddington station, and was built to improve on existing transport links (the Picadilly Line, which was connected to Heathrow in the 1970s, takes 50 minutes to do the same journey). The train journey depicted is based on the early 2000s alignment as Terminal 5 had not been built at the time this chapter takes place.

Motive power in the era of the story was the British Railways Class 332, an EMU type built specially for use on Heathrow Express services. Tragically, no complete sets survive, as all but three cars were scrapped in the early 2020s.

The HST, or High Speed Train, is one of the most iconic train types to have ever operated in Britain. Originally built to connect major cities in record time, they lived up to their name (with the class still holding the world record for fastest point-to-point diesel run). The images shown above show the two liveries seen in this chapter; the first is the 'Merlin' livery used on the Great Western Mainline between 1996 and 2004. The second is the first livery used by Virgin Trains, a livery which is fondly remembered by people who grew up in the privatised era (such as myself).

The coffee shop is based on one I frequented at the University of Nottingham; the name is an allusion to it.

Finally, after quite a lot of waiting, we meet more Starshines! In this chapter, we meet Argyle's parents Brad and Sarah. Brad is based on an American family friend of mine whom my maternal grandfather knew when in the Air Force; they were stationed at nearby airfields. Many years later, I got to meet him when it turned out he lived not far from the American university I studied at between 2022 and 2024. Sarah is modelled on one of my aunts.

But who could these new people be? Find out tomorrow!

Of Steel and Starry Skies

As Sarah opened the door, two people stepped in. One of them was a man with brownish hair and greyish eyes, and was quite well built (though still smaller than one might stereotypically associate with the military, which his bag and haircut would indicate). He was dressed rather casually, suggesting he was on leave or at least temporarily off duty for whatever reason. He grinned. "Fancy seeing the artist here!" he said. "How's arranging the works of Rivera going?"

"Afternoon, Curtis," Argyle replied. "That's not really the era I'm looking at, admittedly. I'm more into the New York scene of the early 1910s as studying that is simpler than seeking out murals on walls." He paused. "But I can see I'm boring you."

"Never was the art type," Curtis admitted. "But we do have some pretty neat aviation paintings in the officer's mess at Lakenheath if ever you want to take a look."

"Thank you," Argyle said.

As Curtis stepped aside, another figure, a woman, stepped forward. She was a rather slight woman, with lightish pink skin and purple hair, yellowy eyes, and some partial braidwork at the point her hair left her scalp. Unlike the other man she was currently dressed in a boilersuit, indicating she was doing something complex and mechanical, and she carried a toolbox in one hand. She popped it down and walked over to Argyle.

"Hey Argyle!" she said, pulling him into a hug. "How's my little brother?"

"Doing fine, thanks," Argyle replied. His face looked confused. "Veronica, did you do something different with your hair?"

"I'm trialling some new dye for a friend. That's why I've got streaks of orange and red in it today," Veronica replied, by now having broken the hug. "Not so sure it works though. When the test's done I'm going back to purple."

Argyle sat down on a step. "So, what are you guys up to whilst I photograph my way across Europe?"

Curtis took something out and handed it to his little brother. "Seems my combat days are over," he said. "I've been detached to head up some sort of new unit, something about warbirds. Looks like I'll be flying old planes from now on."

"Hopefully you'll be a little safer," Argyle said.

"With nobody shooting at me that's basically guaranteed!" Curtis replied.

Curtis filtered through to talk to Brad and Sarah, leaving Argyle and Veronica alone. "So," Argyle asked, "how has the world been treating you?"

Veronica smiled. "My job's pretty steady, but I hardly imagine you want to listen to me drone on about accounting. I've been volunteering at a local heritage outfit to help them fix stuff. I'm on my way there now, actually, so if you want you can come join me if you'd like."

Argyle smiled. "That sounds fun. I'm not needed back in Bristol for a few days, so I could stay the night and help out for as long as you need."

Veronica smiled. "Then what are we waiting for? I'll just let them know where we're going."

Moor Road Workshop rang to the sound of machinery and people hard at work. Tools were machining equipment, and people were moving parts about and doing important maintenance work. Argyle was not a qualified engineer, although by virtue of being a railway enthusiast had a working knowledge of how all this stuff worked. At that moment in time he was busy delivering mugs of tea to people who needed refreshment from the hard work.

"So, you're Argyle, eh?" said one of them. "Nice to meet you at last. Veronica's mentioned you a few times."

"Nice to meet you too, sir," Argyle replied, placing a teacup down on a rolling tray behind them. "Careful- it's hot. Wouldn't want you to get splashed, after all."

"Of course," the man replied. "So, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm studying for a doctorate in art history," Argyle replied. "I'm considering academia for a career."

"Lovely to hear," said a woman. "We come from all walks of life. I'm a systems engineer for my day job, but spend several evening a week helping out here. If ever you find yourself up here again, know that you're always welcome to come in and help out."

Argyle nodded. "Thank you."

"Argyle?! I've got something to show you!"

"Got it!" Argyle said. "On my way." He got up and walked past several lines of engines. The workshop was mostly filled with old saddle tanks and diesel shunters in varying states of repair, all being worked on in preparation for returning to running order. Some had faces but others did not, so Argyle didn't really know what entirely was going on there.

He stopped where Veronica was, and saw something unlike the other engines stored there.

The locomotive had a tender, and very long frames containing eight driving wheels and a set of leading wheels. Two, to be precise. Safe to say, it was far bigger than anything else in the workshop.

Veronica looked over, and smiled. "Glad you made it! This is the engine I'm working on."

Argyle looked at it in surprise. "It's bigger than the others," he admitted. "And what's SDJR?" He pointed to the lettering on the tender, which was painted dark blue.

"The engine's here on a contract overhaul, as it's home railway doesn't have enough space right now to handle that level of work. The tender markings mean Somerset and Dorset Joint Railway, a line that existed in the south of England. When we've finished work on it, we'll test it on the running line up to Park Halt, then send it back to the home line."

As Argyle handed a cup of tea to a worker, he found this all quite inspiring. As noted he was no professional engineer himself, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to learn the basics.

Someday, he would find or acquire an engine of his own and restore it to working order. Or at least that was a pipe dream. No point in planning that far ahead.

A few days later, Goldie was looking out of the window of her apartment, when she thought of something. Argyle had told her he lived alone, which must have been quite lonely at times. So, she had an idea. Picking up her phone, she quickly fired off a text to him. Fancy doing something tonight? I know of a restaurant that I think you'd like.

A response came back a little bit later. Sounds great. I'll need to collect my telescope though.

After getting herself ready for the evening, Goldie met Argyle outside the Wandering Dwarf tavern and restaurant. Things went pretty well, all things considered, with the pair sharing a nice meal and good conversation. Argyle even covered the bill, which caught Goldie by surprise.

"I'd have been happy to split the bill," she said.

Argyle smiled. "Seeing as you paid for my food in Dresden, it's only fair I return the favour."

Later on, the pair decamped to a hill somewhere outside the city (which they reached with the help of one of Argyle's friends who owned a pickup truck). Once set up, Argyle positioned himself behind the lense and adjusted the settings.

"And that up there is the North Star," he said to himself. "Navigate that way and you've got the Plough."

"Plough?" Goldie asked.

"Big Dipper in the United States," Argyle clarified. He smiled as he looked up. "And we're in luck. See that chain of light running across the sky?"

"The one right there?" Goldie asked.

"That one indeed," Argyle replied. "You're looking at the Milky Way, our own galaxy. Just one of thousands of galaxies out there in the universe stretching outwards into infinity. Certainly makes you think. Thousands of planets, thousands of stars, thousands of galaxies, an infinite stretch of space beckoning to us as we look backwards in time. And yet here we are, looking upon it all. Certainly makes you think, doesn't it?"

"I've never seen the stars so clearly before," Goldie said. "Back in Rhode Island the light pollution was pretty bad, so seeing stars was very hard."

"We're a fair way from Bristol here," Argyle said. "I've been hoping when I get a permanent home, it'll be somewhere near the sea. That way on a clear night I could look out to the skies and stargaze without light from cities."

"It's certainly stunning," Goldie smiled. "Thank you for introducing me to all this."

Argyle smiled. "You're one of the few people I know who hasn't made fun of me for my hobbies. I know I'm a bit eccentric and a bit of a dork, but you understand me for who I am. I'm glad to have you as a friend."

"And you appreciate me for who I am," Goldie replied. "So, likewise, I'm glad to have you as a friend."

Of course, neither of them had any clue that, in time, the friendship would blossom into something so much more.

Author's Note

Well, more backstory and more characters connected to the Starshines! Although we know a fair bit about Sunny and Argyle, the show hasn't really delved into the story of his family, so I decided to introduce his two older siblings as characters.

Curtis is Argyle's older brother. His name is derived from Curtiss-Wright, an aircraft manufacturer best known for making the Hawk range of fighter aircraft.

The other character is Veronica. As many of you will recall, the introduction of Sunny's mother in Written in the Starscouts caused a massive stir in the fandom. Personally, I wasn't hugely happy with the fact such an important bit of lore was revealed in a five minute episode (and the fact the character doesn't really have a defined personality or even a name really didn't help). Of course, incorporating the character into my own writing without producing an enormous continuity snarl would not be an easy job, and given that Thomlight had given me permission to use one of his characters in my work it would be an insult to him to stop using Goldie (a character who predates Written in the Starscouts by at least two years). As a result, the solution was to recast the character as Argyle's sister rather than his wife.

Her appearance in the story is a tweaked version of the character model from Tell your Tale, as the jewellery has been removed and the mane adjusted to better suit a human form. Additionally, I made the decision to make the orange and yellow streaks temporary additions as, in my opinion, the mane looks ridiculous with them in. The name Veronica was also selected to differentiate her from the pony shown in TYT, whom the fanbase has taken to calling Stella.

Curtis' outfit is based on the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight, a branch of the RAF that operates vintage aircraft as a flying memorial to the fallen of the Battle of Britain. The flight is a common sight at commemorative events and airshows, usually consisting of two fighters and an Avro Lancaster as a command and control aircraft.

The Middleton Railway is the oldest continually operating railway in the world, having opened in 1758 to service numerous coal mines around Leeds. The line was also the location of the first viable freight locomotive, built in 1812, and today is a thriving heritage operation dedicated to preserving industrial heritage of northern England. Brookes No. 1 (the basis for the character of Brookes in my own writing) is based here, and regularly runs on steaming days.

My Greatest Regret

A year passed, and it soon became apparent that Argyle and Goldie's relationship had become something rather more than a friendship. The change was perhaps most notable in Argyle. His manner was considerably easier now, with much of the social awkwardness gone, and he was also much more sociable. Clearly a long term relationship had helped him in that regard.

Argyle had dated before, but this somehow felt different. Goldie understood him like no other woman he had dated had. Being with her really brightened up his day. Just seeing her was enough to bring him joy. There was just something about this relationship that felt different, seemed different.

He knew the other guys he knew would rib him over this, so he decided to keep his inner thoughts to himself for now. But there was no denying what was going on. Argyle was convinced of it now.

He'd fallen in love with her.

But this also scared him. He had no clue how Goldie would react if he told her how he felt. Would she be accepting? Surprised? Completely lose it? Argyle had no clue.

I mean, on the face of it, they were a mismatched couple. A businesswoman and a nerdy art student. Argyle was familiar with the saying that love is blind, and that every bread has its cheese (as his father reminded him constantly), but Argyle wasn't convinced this was going to work.

He had to clear his head and try to find some inspiration, not to mention find a way to get back on track. To this end, he headed down to the station and bought a ticket to Southampton. A change of scenery would hopefully help him get his mind back in focus.

A few hours later, the dinging of door bells informed him Southampton Central had arrived. He got off and set off out of the station, heading towards the bus rank to travel onwards. His ultimate stop was Eastleigh.

Eastleigh had been the site of the main engine and carriage workshops for the London and South Western Railway, and later became one of the major engineering facilities for the Southern Railway (alongside the old London, Brighton, and South Coast works at Brighton). There was still a level of engineering work going on here, alongside a few old pieces of rolling stock that were yet to be dispersed to other locations.

As he walked round one side of the site, he suddenly heard something in the distance.

"Oh, the times are hard and the wage is low!

Argyle stopped. Had he just heard somebody singing, or was he simply imagining things? That confused him, so he decided to listen, just in case the mystery voice began singing again.

But then, he heard multiple voices singing together.

"Amelia, where you bound for?

There were multiple voices singing in harmony! Was there some sort of work party going on?

Argyle followed in the direction of the voices, noticing as he did so the singing got progressively louder. This made sense, after all; he was progressively getting closer to the source of the noise.

"The Rocky Mountains are my home!"

"Across the western ocean!"

And just as he arrived at the scene of the sound, he saw what was going on. An old diesel shunter was sitting on a siding and leading a group of ballast trucks in a chorus of singing- if Argyle had to hazard a guess it was some sort of sea shanty.

"That land of promise, there you'll see!"

"Amelia, where you bound for?"

"I'm bound across that western sea!"

"Across the western ocean!"

And then came the chorus.

"Amelia, where you bound for?
Amelia, where you bound for?
The Rocky Mountains are my home!
Across the western ocean!"

The diesel suddenly noticed Argyle standing there, and smiled. "Ahoy there, matey!" he said. "You be explorin' the yard today?"

The diesel was quite short, and had an offset cab partway up his frames. His front bonnet was long and blocky, and he had a squat cab with three windows. He had six wheels and connecting rods (meaning to the untrained eye he resembled a steam locomotive), and his face was in a toothy grin.

Argyle looked astonished. "An actual non-faceless vehicle," he said, in amazement. "I never thought I'd see one!"

"There not be many o' us around no longer," the diesel said. "But I'll keep on singing until the ol' sun falls into the ocean. I'm Salty. What's your name?"

"Argyle," Argyle replied. "Are you part of the museum?"

"Heavens no!" Salty replied. "I've been here a many great number o' years. The pesky hot box did the drag in, so I just got left here." His eyes looked down, and a tinge of sadness entered his face. "But that was nearly thirty years ago. I've just sat here all this time." He looked whistfully towards the sea. "I was based just down the line in Southampton Docks, and spent many a summer in the sea air. I'd love to shunt trucks on a dockside again, with shanties to keep the trucks in line."

"We're in good voice!" said one of the ballast trucks.

Argyle smiled. "I think I can help," he said. "My sister is a specialist in old machines, and I think she can help. Salty, I'm not leaving you here. I'll come back and visit as often as I can, and one day I'll get you back into working order."

Salty looked in amazement. "You'd do that for an old sea dog like me?" he said.

"Not only are you in fine voice, you're a piece of our heritage," Argyle replied. "And our heritage is something that needs to be saved. How can we possibly plan for the future if we don't know where we came from?"

Salty and the trucks cheered. "By Rodney's Roller Bearings, there is good in this world!" He looked to Argyle. "I won't forget this, matey. Do a sailor a good turn and you have a friend for life, so the saying goes."

But Goldie could sense something was different too. Although it wasn't to a debilitating degree, she found herself looking forward to their meetings (Argyle wouldn't really have called them dates, even though that was what they were effectively), and sometimes found herself a bit down when he wasn't around. Focusing on her work life helped, as did her other circle of friends she had made in Bristol, but sooner or later she would have to come to terms with these feelings she had.

She'd been in relationships before, of course. But again this one felt different.

For the first time in her life, Goldie was experiencing love. And she could sense Argyle felt the same way about her. For the first time in her life she had a partner who actually truly loved her, not her looks.

She had to tell him someday how she felt. So, she decided she would do so when they next met up for a date. Thankfully, that was pretty soon.

Unfortunately, things did not go to plan. For one, the weather was horrible, meaning raincoats and umbrellas were a must to avoid getting utterly soaked and looking like drowned rats. When Goldie got there, she noticed Argyle standing there, but he wasn't looking too happy. He looked downtrodden, and his eyes were red.

"Is everything OK?" Goldie asked, as she approached.

Argyle mumbled something.

"Sorry?"

Argyle spoke up. "I've been doing some thinking, and... I think we should break up."

Goldie was thrown for a loop with that one. "What?" she said. "Argyle, there isn't somebody else, is there?"

"No," Argyle said quietly. "I'm the problem."

Goldie was utterly baffled by what she was hearing. But before she could speak Argyle continued.

"I love you, Goldie. Truly, I do. Knowing you has changed my life for the better, and you understand me for who I am. You're a wonderful person- generous, kind, funny, and a woman I have been truly blessed to know." He closed his eyes. "You deserve so much better than me. I mean, who would want an overweight, nerdy art student as a long term partner?"

Goldie decided to speak up. "Argyle, you need to stop being so harsh on yourself. There's somebody in the world for everybody, and for me that's you."

Argyle looked down, and within a few moments it was clear he was sobbing. He was trying to hide it from the world (and doing a very poor job), as it was clear he was struggling with what to do. "You'd be best forgetting about me. Thank you, Goldie, for the time we spent together. I wish you luck with whatever you go on to do next."

Before Goldie could speak, Argyle took off in the opposite direction, into the rain. She began to dash after him. "Argyle? ARGYLE! WAIT!"

But he was soon out of earshot. Goldie stopped at the side of the path and looked down, feeling tears come to her own eyes. "What did I do wrong?"

Author's Note

Eastleigh, in southern England, was once the site of a major heritage project (and was one of the locations proposed for a second site for the National Railway Museum before Shildon was selected). The site is still used for some contract overhauls and general maintenance.

The engine is, of course, Salty, and this image gives you a good idea of the state he was in when Argyle found him. Happily, the real locomotive who shares a number with Salty (D2991) is preserved in real life; the engine is owned by Knights Rail Services and is based at Eastleigh, only a stone's throw from its old stomping ground.

And yes, the ending. I know that there's a certain level of tension removed from the story by virtue of being a prequel, but that's actually based on something from my own family history; my parents broke up for a bit before deciding to get back together.

This story shall now take a break over the weekend, before we resume with the fallout of the breakup on Monday.

Wing and a Prayer

Argyle knocked on the door on a cold, rainy day. The rain continued to pour furiously, like somehow the universe had detected his mood and decided to run with the setting. It always seemed to rain in movies when things were miserable, so perhaps this was just the universe's way of playing a practical joke on him. Almost as if he deserved to be this way.

After a few moments, the door opened, and a familiar face smiled back. "Hello son!" Brad smiled, but dropped the smile when he saw Argyle's face. "What's wrong? Something bad happen?"

Argyle sighed. "It's more something I did. Can I come in?"

Brad nodded. "Of course! No point in having you standing out here like a drowned rat, is there?"

Argyle stepped in through the door and closed it behind him, sighing.

Brad looked at him. "Now then, tell me what's wrong."

Argyle paused for a moment. "I broke up with Goldie."

Brad's jaw dropped. He'd met Goldie a few times and thought she was a perfect match for him. "Why? Things seemed to be going so well between you two!" He stopped. "Was there somebody else?"

Argyle looked down and hung his head. "No. I'm the problem."

Brad looked confused. "Son, you're not making a whole lot of sense. What do you mean, you're the problem?"

"She deserves so much better than me. What have I ever done?"

There was a moment of silence as both men processed what had just been said. But then Brad placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "You really need to stop being so harsh on yourself, Argyle. I know there's enormous pressure placed on people in this country to succeed- but you have succeeded. You've got two degrees from one of the country's top universities, and you're working towards your doctorate. I couldn't have done that! Only the brightest and best possibly could. But not only that, you have a clear passion for what you do. To be honest, I don't entirely understand the whole art history thing, and couldn't tell apart half the artists you mention. But that doesn't matter to me, because no matter what I will support you."

He stopped. "So don't ever say you're not good enough for anybody, Argyle. You're a smart guy, and a generous one too. I lose track of how much time you give to charitable causes or helping others- speaking of which Veronica says the railway needs extra helpers for some sort of project. But that's all good things people look for in others."

Argyle sighed. "Thanks, dad. But I don't know if I can go back. How can I?" He was unsure what to do. Could he come back from a breakup? He hadn't the previous times- the other party had quickly moved on to somebody else, suggesting that they were just about done with the relationship themselves.

"Call her, and ask if you can start again," Brad said. "See how it goes from there."

Argyle nodded. "That's the thing, though. I honestly love her, which is why it hurts so much. But what if she's moved on to somebody else?"

Brad nodded. " That's just a risk you have to take, but I know how that feels. Now then, would you like some tea or coffee? You look like you need warming up."

Argyle nodded. "Coffee would be good."

Goldie scrolled to the number again and pressed dial, hearing the ringing start. She waited a few minutes for the phone to continue ringing, but it soon became clear the person on the other end wasn't answering.

You have reached the voicemail of Argyle Starshine. The person you wish to speak to is unavailable right now. Please leave a message after the tone. To record the message again, press the Hash key."

Goldie sighed in worry, then placed the speaker next to her ear. "Argyle, it's Goldie. Please, give me a call and tell me you're OK."

She then hit red and sat down in a chair, putting her phone down on the table next to her. In the last few days, everything she had known had been flipped upside down.

Since Argyle had broken up with her, she'd felt rather down. She'd tried the best she could to return to normal, but she was legitimately worried for him. She'd contacted the University for his whereabouts, and had looked all around Bristol to try and find him, but he seemed to be nowhere to be found.

And this worried her. Considering the emotional state he was in, she was terrified he'd go and do something... no, she didn't even want to consider that possibility. That was just to horrific to contemplate.

But why? What had prompted Argyle to think he wasn't good enough? He had all the positive traits somebody would look for in a long term partner- kindness, generosity, a good sense of humour, all attributes Goldie thought were important in a person.

Not to mention he treated women like human beings. You'd hope this would be a given in a person, but Goldie knew from experience that this trait was rarer than she had hoped it would be.

Her mind drifted back to a phone call she'd made overseas earlier that day. This had been back home, to try and get some advice.

"...And that's more or less it, really," Goldie said, finishing the story.

"Sounds like you had a bad breakup," said a voice on the other end.

"That's just the thing, dad," Goldie said quietly. "It came completely out of nowhere. I don't know what went wrong. Are all my relationships destined to fall apart?"

"He said he was the problem, right?" Mr Skylight said. "But I agree, it's all rather strange."

Goldie was silent for a moment. "I thought I'd finally found it- a long term relationship. I don't know if I can move on. In Argyle, I ound somebody who I thought loved me for who I am and wasn't solely interested in going to bed with me." She paused. "Sorry for the course language."

"I wouldn't rush into anything, Goldie," her father continued. "Take some time to think things through. For all you know he may return."

Goldie nodded. "Thanks dad."

"No problem, Gloria. Or what is it you go by these days?"

"Goldie."

"Keeping up with all these nicknames is hard enough. I called your little brother Moondust by mistake yesterday!"

"Sounds awkward."

Goldie was suddenly shaken out of her thoughts when her phone buzzed. She walked over to pick it up, and saw the message on the screen was from somebody she'd been hoping to hear from.

Can we meet at the Bristol Coffee Merchant and Canal Company? I have some things I need to tell you.

Argyle.

Goldie immediately typed a reply, then sent it before grabbing her raincoat, hopeful that, at last, she had a chance to resolve the situation in a positive way. Or at the very least part on amicable terms.

On my way.

Sure enough, Goldie found Argyle standing outside the Bristol Coffee Merchant and Canal Company's main entrance. He seemed...different, somehow. He still looked a bit bedraggled, but his mind seemed set.

"Nice weather we're having, aren't we?" he said, referring to the rain.

"Isn't it supposed to be Spring?" Goldie asked, laughing as she did so. Whatever got Argyle into a relative state of ease.

Argyle sighed. "I guess." He paused. "Goldie, I'm sorry about what I said. I deeply regret it, and shouldn't have put that emotional strain on you. I know relationships can be hard, and I don't know if we can go back to how it used to be... but can we try and pick up where we left off?"

Goldie smiled, and pulled him into a hug. "Of course I forgive you," she said gently. "Life often doesn't go the way we expect, and is often full of ups and downs, good and bad. But that's just life. You're a wonderful person, Argyle, and meeting you was one of the best things that ever happened with me. This relationship has brought me joy that I haven't felt in a long time. I know life is a journey full of both smooth roads and potholes, but I want to go on that journey with you. So yes, let's pick up where we left off."

As she said that, the sky seemed to brighten, and rays of sunlight began to pour through a gap in the clouds. The sun and rain mingled in the air and danced in the light, producing a wondrous rainbow that lit up the sky.

Argyle looked up at the sky in amazement. "Talk about great timing," he said. "Cheesy, but also weirdly fitting."

The two of them broke from the embrace, before Goldie spoke up. "Fancy a coffee? I could really do with some caffeine right now."

Argyle nodded. "Let's do it." The pair walked indoors, their future set and firmly back together again.

Wedding Bell Blues

Time passed by since the couple reconciled, and sure enough the seasons began to move. As January set in, the temperatures dropped, and people began to seek warmth indoors or through hot drinks. Or both at once.

This was the case for Argyle and Goldie one day, as they stayed indoors from the cold. Although the city clock was just chiming four, the skies were very dark, and it could easily be mistaken for night time as the setting sun was hidden from view. This meant that the lights were turned up to full inside the cafe, where they were currently both enjoying hot drinks.

Truth be told, Goldie had noticed something unusual. Whilst Argyle being a bit eccentric was a key part of his personality (and one of the things that attracted her to him in the first place), this still seemed a little unusual. He seemed a tad nervous.

"Is everything OK?" Goldie asked. "You've been acting a little oddly up to this point."

"Sorry about that," Argyle replied. "Got something on me. Something for you, actually."

Goldie was momentarily silent. Could this be leading in the direction she suspected, or was this something else? She'd expressed an interest in learning more about his hobbies, and as such had borrowed some of his vast collection of railway books.

Argyle reached into his pocket and took out a small blue box, before opening it. Inside it sat a silver ring which seemed to shine like the moon. "Sorry that it's not diamond, but those were rather too dear for my budget."

As the box was placed down on the table, Goldie spoke up. "Is this an engagement ring?"

Argyle nodded. "I've been trying to build up the courage to ask this for a while, but... Goldie, will you marry me?"

It took Goldie approximately two seconds to decide. "Yes. Yes I will."

All the tension in the air dissipated in an instant, and Argyle looked incredibly relieved and elated. "Thank you."

"I have something for you as well," Goldie said, and produced a nearly identical box before opening it, revealing another ring inside. "I was actually planning on proposing to you, but you've kinda already done that."

"Well, go ahead!" Argyle said. "I see no reason why you can't."

So, Goldie did. "Argyle, will you marry me?"

"Of course."

It seemed some people in the cafe had overheard the conversation, and started applauding the new couple. After slipping the rings on, a very important question suddenly came to their minds.

"When should we set a date?"

Sure enough, planning soon got underway. Having set a date for some point in June (as securing a booking that far in advance would be fairly easy in January), the pair quickly brought their families in. As Argyle's student housing was rather too small for effective planning work, they soon got into the habit of meeting at Goldie's apartment to discuss plans and run things through.

And at an early meeting they ran into a slight snag. "It seems our families have rather different ideas about how the wedding should go," Argyle said, looking at the notes.

Goldie nodded. "Mine are insisting on a church wedding." She shook her head. "They seem to think I won't be married unless I've stood in a cold building in a puffy dress. Mother's offered her wedding dress, but I turned that one down."

"I presume due to height issues," Argyle replied.

"Yes. I'm taller than her so my feet would be visible. Not only that puffed sleeves do not suit me at all." Goldie shook her head to try and dismiss the memory. "What about your family?"

"We're very laid back on that front," Argyle admitted. "We'd probably go for a country estate or something like that- preferably something where not much moving around is required. June is usually very hot, after all!"

Goldie rubbed her forehead. "This will be quite the mess to unscramble."

Later that day, Argyle was at home when he suddenly got a phone call from further north. "Hello?"

"Evening!" said the voice of Curtis. "How's it going?"

"Had a bit of a planning snag," Argyle admitted. "Turns out our families have very different ideas for a wedding. Goldie's folks want something more traditional."

"Interesting," Curtis said. "Well, you gotta keep the inlaws happy. But I've got some good news that should brighten up your day."

"And what's that?" Argyle asked.

"Check your inbox. I'll want to go over the page with you."

Argyle opened the inbox, and sure enough found a link from his brother's email address. Clicking on it, he was taken to the website of a stately home.

"A fellow pilot at the Vintage Squadron mentioned this place. It's called Dyrham Park. It's not far from Bristol, and I think will suit both our famillies' needs."

Argyle scrolled through the page, and took note of the many features the building offered. "Interesting." He smiled as he saw another entry. "There's also a chapel on site that's licensed to do weddings, and the house can provide the afterparty, reception, and cover for people staying on site!" He smiled. "This is perfect. I'll send this on to Goldie and see what she thinks."

"I thought you'd like it," Curtis said. "Crazy to think how quickly things have changed, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're the youngest of us. You weren't exactly the most extroverted of guys; you always seem happiest with your nose in a book."

"Is this meant to be a compliment?"

"Yes. Yet here you are, the first of us to be getting married. I'd probably best be hurrying up on that front; I am 30, after all."

"No point in rushing into anything," Argyle said to him. "Now, how am I going to afford this?"

"Win the lottery?"

"I'll see if I can find some help." Argyle ended the call. "Hopefully Goldie's having more luck than me. Next time I'm over I'll ask to talk to her folks and see if they can help out."

Unfortunately for Goldie, things weren't quite going to plan.

As much as her mother was a kind and good person, she had a rather bad habit of taking over from other people and losing sight of what they wanted. The second she had heard Goldie was engaged, she had flown over (with Goldie's brother Moondust no less) to find a suitable dress.

This is where the losing sight problem came in. None of the dresses were what Goldie considered to be her style. Each of the ones proposed to her were utterly impractical things, with mountains of layers, enormous amounts of fabric, skirts that made Cinderella's gown look like a mini skirt in comparison, and utterly ridiculous sleeves.

"Well? What do you think?" her mother asked.

"I'm not sold on any of them," Goldie replied.

"Whyever not?" her mother said. "I can remember when I walked down the aisle. It was one not disimilar to this. And besides, you wore something similar to your school formal!"

"And hated every second of it," Goldie answered. "I'm not above dressing up nicely, it's just that massive sleeves and puffy skirts just don't cut it for me. I know you only want to help, but please remember who is getting married."

"Well, what are you looking for then?" Moondust asked, the first thing he had contributed to the conversation.

Goldie nodded. "I can think of three main guiding points for what I'm looking for. Firstly, the wedding will be in June, so therefore I need something that will keep me cool. Too many layers and I'll be doing my best impression of an old car."

"That's another thing we need to book," her mother said. "A vintage car to convey you to the chapel."

Goldie ignored her and continued. "Second, I need to be able to dance in it without falling over. If it's too fussy, I'll fall over, or somebody might tread on the fabric and damage it. Third, I'd rather not look like an iced cake, so corsets and hoopskirts are a firm no."

Moondust then chimed in. "I know somebody who designs clothing. They might be able to design something in line with your needs. It'll take a while to ship as they're based in Canada, but we've got four months until the wedding so that should work."

"I'll call them," Goldie said. "Hopefully this won't get too pricey."

"Money's no object!" her mother chimed in. "Only the best for you on your big day."

A month or two later, the dress arrived- along with the designer, who had come over to assist with fitting and any alterations that may be required. Sure enough, the results looked stunning.

"How do I look?" Goldie asked, looking in the mirror. She thought it looked good (and suited her needs well), but she always liked having a second opinion.

Her mother seemed especially happy with the results. "You'll look like a princess on your big day!" she beamed.

"Our big day," Goldie said.

Her mother looked confused. "Pardon?"

"Our big day," Goldie repeated. "Argyle's getting married too."

A few months passed, and the big day loomed. Argyle and Goldie were making their last visit to the site to ensure all was in order.

"My siblings are coming down by train to stay here the night before," Argyle said. "Sadly, some of my family stateside can't make it. Not to mention there's people we wouldn't want turning up here."

"I know the type you're referring to," Goldie said. "I know there's something of a stereotype for drunken conduct at weddings, but I'd rather a punchup didn't break out on the dance floor."

"Same here," Argyle said, as he looked in a book. "I've found something interesting, though."

"Namely?" Goldie asked, walking over to look.

Argyle put his finger to one entry. "That's my great uncle."

"Mark Starshine?" Goldie read. "During WW2, no less."

"There was a signal station here during the war," Argyle explained. "He must have been working from it. Funny how you find connections around the world. Not only that, I did a bit of digging and discovered a Skylight connection here too."

"I know we emigrated to America some point in the 18th Century, but that's about what I've found. I know more about our American past."

"That's reasonable," Argyle said. "After all, you did live there most of your life. But what I did find was that they used to own land around here in the Seventeenth Century."

"I'm guessing they lost it," Goldie said.

"Yep," Argyle said. "Turns out they backed the wrong horse and sided with the King during the Civil War. After King Charles was executed their land was given to somebody called Moonbow. That may explain why they left later on to rebuild in another land."

He noticed Goldie looking at one entry. "Something caught your eye?" he said.

"Yes, actually," Goldie said. "This person here. John Starscout. Starscout's my middle name. Or rather is my current middle name."

"Goldie, you don't have to take my name if you don't want to," Argyle said. "It's tradition, nothing else."

Goldie turned to him. "I want to, though. It'll be an honour to be Mrs Starshine."

Seeing the sun setting outside, the couple decided to take a walk through the gardens. Argyle was most intruigued by what he had just learned. "So, who were the Starscouts?"

"They're my mother's line," Goldie said. "At least, that was my mother's maiden name. They decided to give it to me as a middle name to preserve it, I guess. Of course, given I plan to rearrange my names, I'll probably be dropping it."

"I'll record it, though," Argyle said.

"Why, may I ask?"

"If we have children we could use it as a middle name for one of them."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's focus on the wedding and getting our lives in order."

Argyle nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Author's Note

The silver engagement ring is made from what is known as moon silver. This is silver that is unalloyed, which means it shines in a different manner (rather like moonlight).

There is something of a tradition in the UK of the daughter wearing their mother's wedding dress at their own wedding. This can be a bit problematic for numerous reasons, not least if the mother and daughter are different body shapes or heights. Some of the stuff here is loosely inspired by my cousin's experiences in trying to find a wedding dress she liked without breaking the bank (as some can be ridiculously expensive for something a person will only wear once).

Grow Old with Me

The morning of the wedding finally dawned, and safe to say emotions were high all round. Argyle had, as per tradition, stayed in Bristol and made his way to the site by train (then again, nobody was hugely surprised by his decision to go by rail). Upon arriving, he made his way to a small building on the side of the site. This housed a small cafe that would be perfect for getting a cool drink. This was exactly what he needed right now, as he'd already had breakfast at the hotel he'd been staying at.

"Just arrived?" the bartender asked.

"Yeah," Argyle replied. "Tradition is tradition, after all."

The bartender mixed something up for him. "Good man. Besides, it keeps some things a surprise."

Argyle nodded. "Very true. Besides, if I knew what it looked like it would rather spoil the surprise."

"That it would," the bartender answered as he passed the beverage over. "The path to the chapel goes that way. There's a route over the lake via a bridge which avoids the house. That will reduce your chances of seeing her by accident."

Argyle nodded. "I'll go that way, then. It makes sense to take in the scenery before it gets too hot."

Goldie had been up early herself- after all, hair and makeup are not known for doing themselves. As she didn't know the first thing about doing either to the standard required of such an auspicious day, she had hired somebody to do it for her. Her mother was there, and of course she was partly involved.

"Nervous?" she asked.

Goldie looked forward, keen not to mess up the stylist's work. "I like to get my nerves out of the way in advance," she said, as she looked in the mirror. "And before we do the obvious joke, I've been nervous lots of times."

"I'm certain things will go well!" said one of the bridesmaids. "Besides, you've been in tough spots before. It's as simple as getting married."

"Negotiating sales of rolling stock is one thing, but this is a tad different. And I don't mean to be perdantic, but getting married isn't at all simple if all the planning needed is anything to go by."

"Done!" said the stylist. "As you requested, Miss Skylight."

"I won't be that for much longer," Goldie noted, as she got up. "Now for the next major faff- getting the dress on."

Even with several people to help her, getting her wedding dress on proved to be a bit challenging. Even with practice, it still took them about half an hour. Still, they couldn't afford for it to look messy or awkward, as Goldie's mother was more than happy to recall.

So it was a good thing she didn't.

Once they were done, they made their way downstairs. The bridesmaids seemingly acted as security, ensuring nobody ended up inconveniencing the bride. This was important, as it wouldn't help anybody if somebody trod on the dress and tore it. Then they'd have to start all over again.

After a short trip down a flight of stairs, Goldie arrived at the entrance to the stately home, where a vintage car straight out of an Agatha Christie novel was sitting outside. The driver leaned out of the window. "Miss Skylight?"

"That's me," Goldie replied, and indicated to Moondust, who had just appeared. "I may need a hand getting all this in," she said, indicating to the train.

Luckily, the entire Skylight clan was happy to help, and all went without a hitch. Once the car had set off, the rest of the party followed in a bus. A vintage bus, but a bus nontheless. It had been very handy that a Routemaster had just happened to be available for hire.

Meanwhile, the Starshines had already arrived at the chapel and were busy colonising their pews. Brad had decided not to attend in his military uniform and had instead gone for a suit. Unfortunately, the tie wasn't being very cooperative.

Curtis was curiously absent, but Veronica was busy ensuring flower arrangements were in order. Argyle had to admit that was a bizarre sight- he was so used to seeing her in grubby work clothing or jeans that seeing her pottering around in a posh dress was a very strange experience.

Argyle was so focused on what was going on he jumped when the vicar spoke. "Nervous?"

Argyle nodded. "Yes. But I have been nervous lots of times, before you make the obvious joke."

The vicar laughed. "I know I was when I got married. But stay focused and things should be fine. Besides, it's more than just the day itself- you have a whole life together to look forward to."

Argyle sighed. "That's the hard part, I guess."

"Maintaining a marriage is something that requires constant practice. There's no list to follow or easy to do board." The vicar's face lightened up, though. "But if what I've seen of you two is anything to go by you'll have no trouble with that."

"Sir?" called a voice. "The bride and her party have arrived!"

"Positions, everyone!" the vicar called. "And ensure you haven't got the transpose buttons on!" he called to the organist.

The bridal party positioned themselves outside the door, waiting for clearance to move. James, Goldie's father, had already positioned himself correctly to walk his daughter down the aisle.

"I'm not sure what to say to wish everybody well," he said. "I know saying good luck is bad luck and I'd prefer nobody broke a leg."

"Warm wishiehoof?" Moondust suggested.

"Well that's wierdly specific," Goldie said, and breathed out. "Here we go. Now or never."

As has long been tradition, the organ opened the service with Wagner. This was the signal to everybody to stand- but only one looked down the aisle.

Argyle had deliberately not involved himself in Goldie's side of planning to keep things a surprise. And when he saw his bride-to-be approaching he had to do all in his power to stop his jaw from dropping.

Goldie was wearing a sleeveless gown with a low cut bodice, coupled with a moderately voluminous skirt with a long train- a compromise for not wearing a hoopskirt. The fabric seemed to move like water as she approached, and the skirt was covered with elaborate flower patterns.

Simply put, she looked stunning. Argyle resisted the urge to pinch himself as she stopped in front of him.

"Morning," she said.

Argyle blinked. "Is any of this really happening or is this a dream?" he asked, partly as a joke.

Goldie snorted, and discreetly pinched herself. "Nope, this is real."

The service proceeded largely on order, although Argyle momentarily got lost in the moment and had to be prompted as to where he was. Safe to say everybody cheered when they kissed for the first time as husband and wife.

Once all the paperwork was signed, it was done. But as the couple turned to head down the aisle, this time as one, there was time for one more blunder.

"I present to all assembled Mr and Mrs Albert Starshine!" the vicar said.

Oh dear, Argyle thought to himself. I was hoping he wouldn't do this. He coughed.

"Yes?"

Argyle looked at him. "My name is Albert. But my wife's isn't." Boy did it feel weird saying that, he thought.

Just then the vicar realised his mistake. "My apologies. I present to all assembled Mr and Mrs Albert and Gloria Starshine!"

As is also tradition they exited to Mendelssohn, and once they stepped outside into the bright sun the revellers began another tradition- the tossing of flower and rice.

A set of speakers had been set up nearby, and they suddenly flared into life. "Hello on the ground! First off, congrats, little bro."

Argyle smiled. "So that's where Curtis is."

"Watch the skies."

Suddenly, the familiar sound of jet engines echoed through the air, and three aircraft roared overhead before turning back.

"See you guys at the reception!" Curtis said over the radio.

After returning to the stately home for the first part of the reception, which mostly seemed to consist of alcoholic beverages and milling about outdoors, Argyle and Goldie spent much of the next hour trying to divide their attention between all the guests, many of whom were old friends to one but effective strangers to the other.

One of them was a mate of Argyle's from university. "Congratulations," he said. "You know, this is quite something."

"The drink?" Argyle said. "Not too much of an expert on alcohol myself."

"No, you getting married. Never saw that coming."

Argyle simply assumed the man was a bit tipsy. "Well, thanks. If you'll excuse me I need to go find my girlf- sorry, I mean my wife. Still feels weird saying that."

"Switching guests?"

"Yep. I've got a whole mountain of people to talk to, as does Goldie."

Once all that was over, the assembled party gathered for a series of group photos. Unfortunately, the sun decided not to cooperate, and appeared just as the photo was about to be taken- meaning everybody was squinting as the shutter closed. The photographer frowned. "Could we all face the other way?" he asked. "If I'm taking pictures into the sun it'll avoid the squinting problem!"

Luckily, the assembled crowd were more than happy to do so, and once everybody was in position-

A cloud drifted in at just the wrong moment.

Goldie looked up at the annoying cloud. "I hope this isn't a bad omen. They did forecast rain later today."

Argyle smiled. "Rain on a wedding is supposed to be lucky. A wet knot is stronger than a dry one."

Thankfully, though, they did manage to get a usable photo. As most of the wedding party and assembled guests trooped back indoors to wait in the air conditioning, Argyle and Goldie had one last set of photos to get.

The path that Argyle had taken to get to the chapel had led through a nice cultivated garden, with a large pond with two islands. These islands were connected to the mainland and to each other by a series of bridges, and naturally Argyle had picked this as a spot for a potential wedding photograph.

The photographer positioned himself on the other side of the pond, and lined up the shutter on the bridge. The happy couple stood in the centre, holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes. The resulting shot would not have looked out of place in a film- something which was not lost on Goldie.

"I presume you headed this way this morning?" she asked. "Because you have a good eye for shot composition."

Argyle smiled. "Yeah. I saw this whilst looking around the grounds a while back and thought it was the perfect spot for a wedding photo. Especially with the composition of the bridge and the pond elements, it gives the scene a nice sense of symmetry and balance, not unlike one of the Romantic painters." He paused. "Besides, it's only fair we make the most of the setting."

Goldie snorted. "Ever an artist. Never thought I'd be getting an analysis of my own wedding portrait minutes after it was taken."

"Well, years of studying art does rather do that to you."

"True." Goldie looked towards the house. "Shall we head back to the reception? I think the rest of the party have been held up long enough."

"We've only been gone an hour," Argyle pointed out.

"And I imagine they'll all want something to eat. Good thing we didn't go for an open bar."

Unfortunately, things began to go a bit pear shaped when they got back. No sooner were they back indoors then it started raining. They also quickly discovered most of the guests milling around in the lobby without much sense of purpose.

"What's going on here?" Argyle asked.

"We don't know which hall the reception is in!" said Brad. "This place is like a rabbit warren!"

Argyle checked his map. "First corridor on your left, take a right past the green door, then straight ahead."

Once they had arrived, things continued to go wrong. The drinks orders had been mixed up, which produced some very disappointed patrons, and to make matters worse the wrong names were assigned to the wrong tables for the dinner. This resulted in some very confusing mixes of people. Sarah was understandably surprised to be seated at one of the lower tables and not the top table, as was tradition for the Mother of the Groom. Luckily, she and Veronica swapped places to fix this.

The meal was also a tad chaotic, I am sorry to say. James looked in confusion as a sticky toffee pudding was placed on the table. "This is the dessert!" he said. "I thought prawns were the starter!"

Goldie facepalmed. "Well, we'll just be eating in reverse order. Never hurts to try something new."

There were also speeches. James and Argyle kept their's short and to the point, aware that long speeches and hungry guests are not a good combination. Sadly, the best man didn't get the memo (and was probably a bit drunk), so he launched off into what was, in his mind, an epic that rivalled the Gettysburg Address or the great speeches of Winston Churchill. An oration that would be remembered for all eternity.

Which was a shame, as it was neither of those things. The result was more of a confusing ramble through a variety of different vaguely related topics that somehow linked back to the happy couple. Well into his fiftieth minute, he abruptly stopped and sat down with no resolution to what he was saying.

Argyle looked to Goldie. "That was... something."

Goldie shrugged. "I've had nightmares that made more sense than that."

Thankfully, things proceeded in order beyond that point, and the team left so that the staff could reconfigure the room for the evening celebrations. Once they returned a few hours later, a buffet had been laid out for the guests, and an elaborate cake had been placed before the dance floor.

Argyle looked over. "This is the bit I've been dreading," he said. "Here's hoping it doesn't collapse." He paused.

Goldie spoke up in the resulting gap. "Well, if it does go wrong, we can just chalk it up to experience."

"Dear, I'd rather not get icing all over your dress."

"It's just a dress," Goldie said, smiling in an effort to keep Argyle calm. "It's not the end of the world if that happens. Besides, I can handle a bit of icing on my face."

Luckily, the cake cutting went without incident, and all was well. After sharing their first dance together to a swing version of an old John Lennon song, everybody else was invited up to dance as well. The atmosphere was immensely cheerful.

After about an hour on the dance floor, Argyle headed to the bar to grab a drink and rehydrate. Even in an air conditioned building all the dancing was exhausting.

"Hello there!" said a voice. Argyle looked over to see his father in law standing there.

"Having a nice evening?" Argyle asked, handing his tab to the bar operator.

James smiled at Argyle. "It's an honour to have you in the family, Argyle. You're like a son to me, and I know you and Gloria will be very happy together."

"Thank you, sir," Argyle replied.

"There's no need to be so formal!" James laughed. "I'm not the Prince of Wales! I'm just your father in law!"

"That still feels kinda strange to hear," Argyle admitted. "I know they say the bride joins her husband's family- but in a sense I'm joining yours too."

"And we Skylights wouldn't have it any other way," James replied. "If there's ever anything you need, just let me know. We're family now, and family always sticks together."

"Argyle?" Goldie called. "They're about to start the informal dances! They've got your favourite song on first!"

"On my way, dear!" Argyle replied. "You know, there is one thing..."

Salty sat on the siding all alone. He looked down, his eyes glancing at the rails before him. His paintwork had rusted even further, and the rain had taken its toll.

But none of the rain that fell could match the pain he felt within. Another human had let him down.

"Why did I trust him?" the diesel said quietly, a tear falling from his eye and onto his bufferbeam. "He said he would come back for me... why? Why do they make promises they can never keep?"

Suddenly, he heard the sound of a lorry approaching his position. "Well, I guess this is it. Somebody finally decided to call the scrapman."

But to his surprise, it wasn't a scrapman at all. A large low loader was parked in front of him, and rails were put into position.

Two men hopped out. "Is this winch powerful enough?" said one. Salty thought he recognised the voice.

"This would be powerful enough to pull a battle tank!" said the other.

The first man walked towards Salty, and lowered his hood.

Argyle Starshine smiled. "Hey Salty," he said. "Sorry I'm late. I had a wedding to go to."

Salty's eyes widened, and in that moment his sorrow turned to joy. "You came back for me," he said. "You did care after all!"

"And I still do," Argyle smiled, as he guided the cable onto Salty's coupler hook. "I'm bringing you to a new home. My wife and I have bought a small home on the Cornish coast, and there's a shed nearby with rail access. No matter how long it takes, I will return you to your former glory, and one day you will shunt trucks again."

Salty had no idea what to say as the slack was taken up. Thanks to Argyle, he had a new chance at life. He would feel the sea air once more. He would roll up and down the seafront, singing sea shanties. A dockside would be his home.

And he had a new family to call his own.

Author's Note

For those wondering what is going on at the start of the story, Argyle is participating in an old tradition that states the bride and groom must not be together the night before the wedding, as doing so is said to bring bad luck. Although this tradition partly has its origins in arranged marriage (where the spouses would have no clue who the other person was a lot of the time) it is still considered standard procedure to this day.

The car that conveys Goldie to the chapel is one of these:

The 1951 Rolls Royce Silver Wraith is a classic of vintage car design, and a popular choice of wedding car. My cousin had something of a similar vintage for her wedding.

The vicar's instruction regarding the transpose buttons is a reference to this video:

To explain what happened here, the organist set the transpose function up incorrectly, causing the organ to blast in on the wrong key.

For those interested, Goldie's wedding dress looks like this:

Part of the challenge was finding something that looked elegant whilst fitting with Goldie's established 'less is more' approach to clothing, given it is already established she personally dislikes wearing crinolines and corsets.

Much of the chaos that occurs at the reception is based on various stories I've heard about real weddings in reddit, as well as an allusion to Twilight's disastrous coronation in the final episode of Friendship is Magic where all the food gets muddled up. Given what we know now, the chaos then was certainly a poor omen for the future of Equestria.

The first dance is to this song:

Real Love is based on a demo tape John Lennon recorded in 1979 whilst living in New York. In 1995, the surviving Beatles recorded new audio lines and released it alongside Free as a Bird as two new Beatles songs (the third song, Now and Then, would not be released until 2023). The above track was produced through the magic of AI; musician Timmy Sean recorded all the instruments, then recorded the vocals and fed them through AI software trained on the voices of the Beatles. The results are very convincing, in my opinion.

The concluding segment with Salty is loosely inspired by this story:

ERepressed Memories

Sunny has repressed the memories of what happened to her mother for years, and she never thought she would ever think about it again. But when the past resurfaces one night, it will take a certain pegasus to help her through her grief…

Admiral Producer · 3.4k words · 39 4 · 1.3k views

A Box just for Wishes

"Mrs Starshine?"

Goldie focused back on her screen, and continued working. Clearly somebody needed some help from somebody.

Then the voice was next to her. "Excuse me, are you Mrs Starshine?"

Goldie turned her chair, and immediately realised what was going on. "Yes, I am. Terribly sorry. I'm just not used to this, you know. I've been known as Goldie Skylight for so long that I'm still getting used to the fact my name has changed."

"No problem," the man said. "The manager wanted to speak to you, that's all."

Goldie internally sighed, but knew that she couldn't show this outwardly. "I'm on my way. I'll just finish inputting these numbers and then I'll speak to him."

Once she was done, she checked her calender as she stood up. Argyle had recently graduated from his course, and as such could now legally stick the letters PhD at the end of his name. Not to mention call himself Doctor. Goldie suspected he wouldn't, though- he was far too modest for that, and besides there was always the fear he would be confused for a medical doctor.

That meant they would soon be moving. Argyle had found a place he thought would be ideal. The house search had been awkward, with some rather unpleasant pigsties. Argyle's objection to one place being messy was met with the landlord suggesting Goldie clean it.

They didn't take that one, obviously.

But Argyle had found one place and clearly fallen in love with it. It was in a small town called Falmouth, in Cornwall. The property was an old lighthouse keeper's cottage with three bedrooms and a kitchen, living room, and a decent bath. The lighthouse itself, a rather tall thing painted red and white, was also part of the deal, though apparently it wasn't operating. Argyle had talked about getting the lighthouse back into working order, and thanks to the help of Goldie's father they had acquired the property outright- no mortgate to worry about! Luckily, VivaRail had an office in Plymouth, so it wasn't the worst commute in the world.

Finally, Goldie arrived in her bosses' office. He looked up. "Gloria Starshine, you've got some explaining to do."

"What seems to be the problem?" Goldie asked.

"It appears you took time off without securing it beforehand," the boss said, turning the screen. "That Friday you weren't in."

Goldie sighed internally. No doubt the system was out of date again. "I can explain. I took time off work so I could attend my own wedding. Here's the form, with the required signatures." She handed a copy of the required paperwork over. "I can only assume they haven't logged it in the system yet."

"This isn't you."

"I'm pretty certain it is. Gloria is my given name."

"But the person who signed this is a Gloria Skylight. You are Gloria Starshine."

Oh, this is preposterous, Goldie thought to herself. "Skylight is my maiden name- the name a woman has before she gets married. I signed under that name as that was my name at the time I signed the form. I couldn't have signed as Gloria Starshine as that wasn't my name at the time, and therefore couldn't have used it."

"Then who is Starshine?"

"Starshine is my husband's surname. I couldn't have used it at the time as he wasn't my husband before the wedding."

"What's your employee number?"

Goldie thought for a second. "02121973."

The boss punched the number in, and found the record. "Gloria... Starshine. Ah, so you are the same person as Gloria Skylight."

Goldie nodded. "Indeed."

The boss looked very embarrassed. "Sorry. I'll set about getting those updated."

Goldie was silent for a moment. "Thank you." Goldie knew better than to say what she actually thought, but he couldn't stop her from thinking it.

A year passed, and the couple were settled into their new home at the end of Dockyard Road in Falmouth. The home had been prime real estate, given its easy links to the town. That and the railway station was an easy walk, and with its regular train service commuting to Truro and Plymouth was a doddle.

Not only that, but the University, but some strange coincidence, had a vacancy for a Professor of Art History. Argyle had secured the job, as it turned out that a younger chap was precisely what they were looking for. He'd also brought Salty with him, and had colonised an old engine shed in which to work on him. With only limited tools and time it was hard going. But the couple knew they had it a lot easier than many others in their position.

Not only that, financial support from the families had put them in a very strong position. Which meant thinking turned to something else the couple had been considering.

One evening, just as they had finished washing up the plates, Goldie made a comment which caught Argyle slightly by surprise. "Argyle, this may seem like a slightly strange comment... but I was thinking we should possibly try for a child."

Argyle popped the plate down and looked over. "Really?"

"I've done some thinking and run the numbers. "We're well settled here, we've both got reasonably well paying jobs, no mortgage to worry about, and good financial reserves to draw on. We can definitely afford it."

"That's good to know," Argyle said. "But it's not just a financial consideration, it's an emotional one too."

"I know," Goldie said. "And I feel I'm ready to take on that responsibility."

Argyle nodded. "I feel the same. Here's hoping we're good parents."

Goldie smiled. "I know you'll be a great father." Besides, she was before the age her fertility plummeted off a cliff. How difficult could getting pregnant actually be?

Unfortunately, it proved to be rather more difficult than either of them could have anticipated. After a year of trying it became clear something was wrong. Goldie knew not to expect instant results as pregnancy relied on a lot of variable factors, but she began to suspect something else was going on.

So, she booked an appointment with a fertility specialist to try and get to the bottom of what was going on. Unfortunately, the news was devastating.

"I've finished analysing the data," the specialist said, adjusting her glasses as she did so. "And I'm sorry to report both of you have fertility issues." She pushed two sets of paper over to them. "Results are outlined here, but the short version is that your chances of conceiving naturally are very slim."

Argyle looked crushed as he read over the results, whilst Goldie couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. It seemed one of the things she wanted in life was something she couldn't have. "Are there any ways we could have kids?" she asked.

"There is one possibility," the specialist said, as she turned back to a screen and pushed a button. This activated a projector. "I assume you're both familiar with IVF?"

"I did a bit about it in biology class at school, but apart from that I have somewhat limited knowledge of how it actually works," Argyle admitted.

"If I recall correctly it involves planting pre-fertilised eggs in the hope they implant," Goldie said.

"Correct," the specialist replied. "I will warn you it is a rather invasive procedure and there's no guarantee it will work. But it does have a reasonable chance of working."

"I'll take a reasonable chance over no chance at all," Goldie said.

Argyle looked over. "As will I. I know how much this means to you."

"And I know how much this means to you," Goldie replied. "Let's go for it."

True to the specialist's words, the procedure was rather invasive. But both of them felt it was worth it if the ends justified the means.

Now they just had to wait and see if Goldie started showing symptoms. Though the nature of the procedure did leave her with one concern- the possibility of twins. Not that she was opposed to this, she just felt raising two children at once would be quite the handful.

They'd supplied her with a list of symptoms to keep an eye out for.

Sure enough, about eight weeks after the procedure, Goldie started feeling ill. This included all the expected symptoms- soreness, exhaustion, and of course the numerous trips to the bathroom. Goldie knew what this meant, and as such went to secure a pregnancy test. It was all a bit surreal, as having been through IVF she'd rather been waiting for the symptoms to start as confirmation the process had worked.

And sure enough, Goldie decided to tell Argyle the news one evening. "Argyle," she said, "we need to talk."

Argyle nodded. "Has something come up?"

Goldie reached into her pocket and handed him the test. His eyes widened in amazement as he saw the result.

Positive.

Goldie smiled, trying to hold back tears. "Argyle... I'm pregnant. You're going to be a father!"

Without hesitating, Argyle pulled her into a hug. "And you're gonna be a mom!" he said, smiling.

Both of them knew the next 30 weeks or so would be challenging. But they would face it- together.

Author's Note

The opening segment is inspired by my mother's experiences, as apparently getting used to having a new surname was quite the adjustment. Something similar happened in a hockey tournament she participated in (my parents both played hockey at university and continued with the sport long afterward). My father, who was team captain, was busy delegating positions and switched back into autopilot as he called my mother by her maiden name.

The anecdote about the landlord suggesting my mother clean a messy apartment? That actually happened. Not surprisingly they didn't take that property.

The discussion of fertility issues is actually, again, drawn from my own family. IVF was a massive medical breakthrough which allowed thousands of women struggling to conceive to have children. According to medical data published in 2023, about 12 million children have been born with the assistance of IVF and similar medical technology.

I'm one of them.

Without such treatments, I in all likelihood would not exist (and wouldn't be typing these words).

The Dreams We Built Together

The first kiss you have is always the sweetest, and the first battle you fight is always the toughest.

Having never fought a battle Goldie had no clue how accurate the last of those statements was, but apparently the sentiment could be applied to numerous things, at least according to her mother. Upon learning her eldest daughter was pregnant, she hadn't wasted a breath in giving her child raising tips, as well as ones that would help her through pregnancy.

"Remember," she had said. "The first one is always the toughest. With subsequent children you have more of an idea of what to expect."

Kinda jumping ahead there, Goldie had thought to herself. Of course, she hadn't said that, as she knew her mother was only trying to help, but considering where they lived and how much of a faff it had been to get pregnant in the first place Goldie thought her chances of having a second child were slim to none.

It had been several weeks since she had seen the test, and although she wasn't hugely far along at this point she was already feeling rather self conscious about her appearance. Although she had a bit of a bump, she could more easily conceal it. Partly as she didn't feel she wanted to reveal it yet. She knew there was still a risk she could lose the baby this far along, and as such she thought it best to wait a bit longer before informing her colleagues.

Though she had already informed her manager of her condition. Mainly so he would get the appropriate provisions into place ready for her maternity leave. That still felt like a million years off, even if it was only about 3 months away.

She'd just have to get used to it.

Twenty weeks in and she already felt like a blimp. At this point she'd already informed her colleagues at VivaRail of her pregnancy, and the response had been, as she had hoped, very supportive. Her friends, naturally, wanted to find out whether she was having a boy or a girl.

Goldie had been given the option at the checkup, but she chose not to find out.

"Why?" one of her fellows at work had asked. "I'm not judging you, I'm just genuine curious."

Goldie smiled. "I want it to be a surprise," she said. "Though this does mean Argyle and I may have to do a bit of guesswork when it comes to painting their bedroom."

"Why not blue?" another voice suggested. "I know that was traditionally a feminine colour, but it's become very popular as a gender neutral one."

Goldie nodded, adjusting her position in her seat to give her a bit more comfort. Although she wasn't enormous yet, she did have to watch her posture as it could cause issues with her spine. "I'll keep that in mind. I mean, I do wear a lot of blue so it's possible they may pick that up." She glanced at the clock. "Right, back to work I think."

"Be careful!" said another person.

Goldie rolled her eyes. "Having a football attached to my stomach does not limit my ability to use a keyboard."

Though she wouldn't be like a football for much longer. As her bump grew so did her perception of self consciousness. As much as she wanted to have a child, she didn't really enjoy all the attention she was getting, especially from random strangers. Children she could understand (apart from them asking their mothers why the woman over there was so fat), but adults? Give her a break.

Besides, this had radically altered her appearance, if at least temporarily. Losing all the weight wouldn't be fun, given that she was usually a rather slim woman. Still, if this was the price she had to pay for attaining motherhood, so be it. Besides, she'd already developed something of a personal connection to her child. She was convinced they could understand her, not least as the kicking had started. Lots of kicking.

Sometimes it was like a football match in there.

One evening, Argyle and Goldie were discussing potential names. Of course, this was made slightly more challenging by the fact they didn't know the gender.

"How about something that starts with S?" Goldie suggested.

"I like that," Argyle said. "Names starting with S do somewhat run in the family (apart from me and my siblings, of course), but it'd be a good idea to have two ready to go given, well-"

"We don't know if they are a boy or a girl," Goldie replied. "My grandfather was a Samuel, so I think that could be a good fit."

"And I'll admit I've always been fond of the name Sarah," Argyle answered. "Do those sound like good options?"

Goldie nodded, then suddenly moved. "Ooh! I think they like those too!"

"How can you tell?"

"They kicked just after you said that."

Both parents laughed, taking that as a sign of approval.

"You still love me like this, right?"

Argyle looked over to Goldie, his face visibly confused. "Of course I do! What made you think otherwise?"

A lot more weeks had passed, and Goldie was now on maternity leave. Without her job to distract her mind she was now focusing a lot more on her impending motherhood, and both parents had been at work setting up the second bedroom for their kid. The usual things; a crib, a mobile on the ceiling, painting the walls blue, and other myriad items a baby might want.

Goldie appeared to be struggling, though. Her steadily increasing size meant she find doing some tasks difficult, which she found very annoying. That and she seemed to be worried.

Still, this question from his wife caught Argyle by surprise, so he crossed to the other side of the table to comfort her. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Sorry. I can't help but feel self conscious when I'm carrying a basketball around," she said. "I know I've put a lot of weight on, and it's probably not true- but sometimes I feel like I'm in the running for biggest person in the world."

Argyle pulled her into a hug. "Goldie, I love you for who you are, and I always will," he said. "No matter what size you are, you will always be the light of my life. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me, and there is nothing, come Hell or High Water, that would make me even consider leaving. You're the most beautiful woman to have ever lived, not just on the outside but what's inside your heart."

"You've said that before," Goldie said, starting to feel better.

Argyle smiled. "That's because it's true. Now then, let me help you clean this up."

Goldie snorted. "I can do it myself! I'm pregnant, not immobile!"

Goldie's anxiety was heightened. This was because the most difficult part of the journey was on the horizon.

Birth.

For obvious reasons, Goldie had no clue what to expect, but thankfully they'd already made arrangements. They knew her due date, so a few nights earlier they'd head up the valley. Falmouth didn't have a hospital, but Truro did, and Goldie (quite understandably) wanted to have her child where medical professionals were on standby to help.

That and they'd have painkillers. She had been warned they could have side effects, but if it was that or several hours in agony she knew which she'd rather pick.

There was just one slight problem. The due date had come and gone, and nothing. As it was considered dangerous to continue too far past the due date, she was going tomorrow to be induced.

That night, she sat there and gently rubbed her bump. "Not long now," she said to her little one. "I can't wait to meet you. I know I've been carrying you around in there for a while, but I know the world out there will be just as welcoming for you as it was for me."

She sighed and looked up at the stars. Soon there would be one more.

On a cold January morning, early in the morning, Goldie Starshine welcomed her child into the world.

Truth be told, she didn't remember a whole lot about the process itself, but she held her child in her arms for the first time she couldn't help but feel emotional.

"It's a girl," the doctor informed her. "Congratulations, Mrs Starshine."

Goldie smiled, trying to resist crying as she held her little girl in her arms. "Hello Sarah," she said quietly. "Welcome to the world. I'm your mommy."

The child simply looked back at her with wide eyes.

Argyle was now in the room, and he looked with an equal amount of wonder. "She has your eyes," he said.

Goldie glanced over to the paperwork he was holding. "Make sure not to make any spelling mistakes."

Argyle recorded the given name carefully, before pausing over the middle name. "What should we use as a middle name?"

There was a moment's pause, then both spoke together. "Starscout."

As they both looked at their child, both parents could not be more content. Though they couldn't have come from more different backgrounds, they couldn't have formed a more perfect union.

He was the star that shone on the path she followed.

She was the light of his life, a sky of the infinite possibilities their marriage brought.

Together, they were a sky full of stars.

Author's Note

Well, here we are, at the end of another tale. Seeing as I've sprinkled clues as to their backstory throughout the setting, it only seemed fitting to bring the ballad of Argyle and Goldie to life as best I could.

This was also a surprisingly tough chapter to write, and one that needed quite a bit of research as I was very keen to avoid Hollywood pregnancy.

If any of you are interested, I may write a follow-up depicting their early years of family life. But until then, this is The Blue EM2 signing off.

Credits

CAST - IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Tara Strong - Goldie Skylight/Starshine
Michael McKean - Argyle Starshine
James C. Burns - Brad Starshine
Patricia Drake - Sarah Starshine
Rob Tinkler - Curtis Starshine, James Skylight, Assorted Voices
Vanessa Sears - Veronica Starshine, Goldie's mother, Assorted Voices
Keith Whickam - Salty
Bill Nighy - Moondust Skylight

Intro

Fimfiction Proudly Presents

An Story by The Blue EM2

Sponsored by the Guild of Equestrian Railroaders

Inspired by the works of Admiral Producer

And Based on an Idea by Thomlight Sparkle

Starring the Voices of:

Tara Strong

Michael McKean

Vanessa Sears

James C. Burns

Bill Nighy

Kiefer Sutherland

Tabitha St. Germain

and Robert Carlyle

A SKY FULL OF STARS

Animation by Boulder Media and Arc Productions

Model Effects and Sequences recorded at Ellstree Studios