Winters in Cornwall are often the polar opposite of its summers. The artic winds lash in from the Atlantic, blanketing the coastline in cold air. Waves strike the shoreline, often leaving those unprepared with an unexpected shower. And it often brings heavy snow. Very heavy snow.

In these conditions, people and engines often prefer to stay in the warmth. But everybody knows that work doesn't stop because the silly soft stuff has arrived. One freezing morning, Sophie was making her way up the line with the morning passenger train bound for Truro. The snow and wind lashed the coaches something fierce, and the train was thankfully fairly warm.

"Good thing these coaches are heated!" said one passenger. "Or else we'd be ice blocks!"

Sophie shared the same sentiment. "I imagine the passengers like the fact I have electric train heat," she said. "Nobody really likes the cold all that much."

Pipp looked out of the cab. "The sooner we're back in the warmth, the better," she said. "Cold air tends to bring me out in spots." As she looked ahead, she saw a red flag being waved back and forth. "Looks like we're stopping!" She applied the brakes and brought the train to a stop.

A passenger leaned out of a window. "I'm late for work! What's the holdup?"

Sophie looked down at the man standing at the lineside. He was wearing a heavy winter coat, and was holding a red flag. "Can we help you?" she asked.

"I was rather hoping you'd help," the man said. "I'm a local farmer, and my sheep are trapped on the hillside. Unfortunately, they've just started lambing, and I can't get any help in by road as those are blocked. Furthermore, my telephone line has fallen down, and I need to contact a vet. Can you help me?"

Pipp nodded. "Perranwell is just up the line. We'll phone for a vet from there. Fetch the vet, so to speak."

Sophie sighed. "Pipp, I don't think anybody in the audience is going to get that joke..."

Goldie sat in her office, listening to the wind whistling outside. She had been on hold for about thirty minutes now, and the piano music that was playing was starting to grate on her nerves.

"Just my luck that the day I choose to renew my passport they choose to man the desks with sloths," she grumbled. "If VivaRail worked like this the company would go bust."

The British Civil Service is known for many things. Customer service, however, is not one of them. After another ten minutes of waiting, she finally got through to a real person.

"Good morning, how can I help you?" the civil servant said, in a very unfriendly voice.

Goldie spoke up. "Hi, I'm trying to get my passport renewed."

"OK, can I ask for your name, date of birth, and the number of your current passport?"

Goldie held her passport up. "My name is Gloria Starshine. My date of birth is 11th October, 1980. My passport number is 902-101."

"OK, let me just check that."

Another long wait.

"I'm sorry, we cannot find you in the system. Would you be prepared to do some verification checks with us?"

Goldie sighed. "OK, I'll do that."

Sophie blasted into Perranwell and came to a stop in the platform. Pipp handed the engine over to a member of platform crew then made her way to the signal box to call for help.

"Hello? We need a vet sent to one of the local farms, and quickly. Could you pass on the message?"

There was an unhelpful voice on the other end. "This phone line is for official railway use only. Non essential messages cannot be sent using this system."

"But there are lambs stranded, and-!"

"Stranded lambs are not the responsibility of the railway. If the farmer needs a vet he should phone them himself."

"His phone line is down and he cannot get a call through!"

"Then tell him to use a mobile phone. Most people these days have mobile phones." The call then abruptly ended.

Pipp put the receiver down. "That was possibly one of the rudest men I have ever spoken to."

"OK then, Mrs Starshine, we're sending a 20 digit verification number to the phone number we have on file."

"Send it through," Goldie replied. She had made sure to update her phone number with them as she'd gotten a new number a little while back.

But even after 10 minutes nothing arrived.

"Has it arrived yet, Mrs Starshine?"

"No, not yet. Are you sure you sent it to the correct number?"

"I'm sorry, in order for me to disclose the number you would have to send in another form. Can we try another form of identification?"

"Would a birth certificate work?" Goldie asked.

"That would work."

"I'll email the scan now."

Even as Pipp tried to scrape together some sort of response, even phoning a vet privately, the weather worsened still. Snow was starting to pile up in such great amounts that the line was getting blocked. The vet was now riding in the rear cab.

"We only took a snowplough to this lot yesterday!" said the station master. "However shall we get through?"

Just then, Rebecca arrived, with a snowplough fitted. "I can help get through!" she said. With her short train she set off into the snow.

She returned a few minutes later, looking defeated. "The cutting before the tunnel is completely snowed in!" she said. "We had to turn back or else we'd have been stranded! You'd need explosives to shift that lot!"

"And explosives are not something I happen to have on me," Hitch said grimly. "This snow is such a nuisance!"

Sophie then had an idea. "I remember something we did in the old days, when Bincombe Tunnel was blocked!" she said. "We'd have a diesel out front with a snowplough, and a steam engine behind to provide extra power. We could punch through those drifts with ease."

"It's worth a shot," Rebecca said, who began to reverse for the coupling procedure.

"I'm afraid I cannot follow this birth certificate. Could I have your British one?"

Oh Bloody Hell, not this again, Goldie thought to herself. "I don't have a British birth certificate as I wasn't born in the UK. I was born in the United States."

"Why does it say Rhode Island on it then?"

"That's where I was born. US States issue their own birth certificates."

There was a moment of silence. "Where is Rhode Island? I can't place it on a map."

Internally, Goldie wanted to scream. But she had no choice but to go along. "It's next to Connecticut and Massachusetts."

"I'm going to need to put you on hold again."

Goldie got up and ensured the phone was on silent. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Sophie and Rebecca battled their way through the harsh winter snow, the wind continuing to howl around them. "I hope this works!" Rebecca said.

"You can say that again!" Sophie replied. "Nervous?"

"Yes."

"First time?" Pipp quipped, adjusting the windscreen wipers to combat the increased snowfall.

"Nope!" Hitch replied. "I've been nervous lots of times!"

The snowdrift blocking the tunnel loomed before them like a giant white mountain, with the dark sky rendering it impossible to tell where the snowdrift stopped and the sky began. The two engines approached it at speed.

"I hope this works," Pipp said, before advancing the throttle lever. "CHARGE!"

The two engines thundered forward into the snowdrift, colliding with it with incredible force. The snow was blown to one side from the impact, and surged upwards as they hammered onwards into the tunnel. Once they were through to the other side, they were home free and well on their way.

The farmer continued to stand by the lineside, looking worried. "If this weather gets any worse I won't be able to walk to the next village," he said. Just then, he heard a diesel engine and a steam loco working in unison, and at last the light of Sophie loomed out of the fog.

Sophie rattled to a stop. "Sorry we're late!" she said. "But we fetched the vet!"

The vet climbed down from the other cab. "Now then, lead me to the lambs."

Luckily, all turned out to be well. The lambs were safe, and Sophie was praised for her bravery.

"Mrs Starshine?"

The voice on the other end was different to before, and Goldie answered. "Hello?"

"Apologies for the SNAFU there. I've been able to get to the bottom of why they couldn't find you in the system."

"Why, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Somebody didn't realise Americans write the month first. Your new passport is on its way; expect it within five working days."

"Thank you," Goldie said, and with the final greetings ended the call. She stepped out of her office to find Argyle there.

"We got sent home early because of the snow," he said. "Did you have a fun time?"

Goldie sighed. "Only the usual with the Civil Service. However did Britain win the War?"

Author's Note

This is an adaptation of the Thomas and Friends episode Toby had a Little Lamb, combined with a subplot based on my own experiences of trying to apply for student finance. The hoops that Goldie has to jump through are similar to my own experience; they had, in fact, written my date of birth down incorrectly and put that into the system, and nobody had double checked it. The date of birth element is based on me applying to study in the United States and once accidentally writing the day and month the wrong way round.