Once again we are beholden to the current executors of the Knolly estate for letting us publish this, the second package of the great man's journals and memoirs.

I awoke to the sound of someone in the distance whistling The Boers have got my Daddy, at least I think that was the tune. The whistler had a rather rambling technique so that just when you thought you could join in; it went off at a totally different tangent. So much so that it ended up being something I'd never heard before coming back to the original tune by way of the Sailor's Hornpipe. I lay for quite a while staring at the carriage ceiling attempting to make as much sense of melody as I could whilst putting together what to do next.

Yesterday had, in retrospect, been a very productive day but exhausting nevertheless and I had hoped to have gotten to bed at a much more reasonable hour. Meeds alas did not seem to be in a hurry to go home and after he had pointed out our new rendezvous in North London he proceeded to outline his plans of how he would get the Train moved to this new location and how we would be able to link up with the overnight to Glasgow the following night. Then he continued with which of his engineers he would need to accompany us on this part of the journey as part of a field test. I still had my suspicions that he just didn't want to leave his beloved Annie and Clarabelle with Bertie and I until the very last possible moment, and I believe because of that he was very grateful that I left the planning to him. I had hoped to try and make my way up to my office to see what had landed up in either Bertie and my in–trays. Alas by the time Meeds decided to close up and make his way home it was well after midnight.

Safe in the knowledge that Meeds would pull out all the stops to get us to the halt at Mornington Crescent tomorrow evening, and that there was nothing I could do until the rest of my sphere of influence was up and about, (although Hobbes was bound to still be awake tinkering with some contraption or reading to his chickens) I decided to go find a bed and get some sleep. The idea of using the hammock suggested for Bertie did not last long as I didn't relish the thought of sleeping in the gymnasium. The fighting mechanical might fall on me for goodness sakes, plus the facilities were all available here and I didn't really want to keep walking though the workshop that currently resided between the two carriages if suddenly caught short in the night. So it was that I lay down in the larger of the two beds that had been recently fitted as per my instructions.

It had been quite a long time since I had had such a large bed to myself and I was rather surprised that I slept so well. I put that down to meditating techniques I had picked up in the Orient, although thinking abut it, it may well have been down to Meeds continual night–caps he insisted on dishing out.

The whistling had stopped; I held my breath waiting to see what would happen next. Had I been indiscreet? No one was supposed to know my whereabouts, and I did not wish to be discovered at this late stage. I heard footsteps just beyond the end of the carriage, someone, the whistler? Was in the workshop area so my exit that way was blocked. What to do? Where to hide? Or, should I just brazen it out? I had hoped that Meeds himself would be first back in to work, and therefore direct his workforce in such a way that I would be able to remain hidden during the day, but this would not seem to be the case. Someone had decided to get to work early today.

My decision process was taken away as the door was flung open:

'Chief's compliments sir, said you liked a hearty breakfast!'

I peered from the bed covers.

'Stanley, that's twice you've almost caused my heart to stop!'

Stanley grinned over the tray he was carrying, obviously hoping the smell of fried bacon and eggs would get him out of any trouble – he was not wrong, I was famished. I grabbed my coat to put over my pyjamas and bade Stanley put the tray on table in the office.

'So, Stanley, tell me what brings you in so early. Hmm?

'Early sir? Why it's almost ten o' clock.'

I was just about to put the mug of tea to my lips but this brought me up short.

'Ten o'clock? Good Lord!'

'Indeed sir, the Chief has managed to keep everyone busy on the flat car up till now, just doing some final painting and things, but we need to move the workshop and sort out the couplings which is why he sent me over to see if you were awake and such.'

I had slept very well indeed it seemed and I had clearly forgotten that down here there was no natural morning light to filter through the carriage windows.

'So has the Chief got any idea of where to hide me until this evening?'

Stanley nodded rather exuberantly.

I'm to stay with you, sir, as a ...um .... sort of unofficial steward.'

'Really, were those his exact words then?'

Stanley started to go crimson at the neck.

'Er... No, sir.'

I looked at the poor lad and supped my tea, I could have ordered him to tell me exactly what the Chief had told him, but that wouldn't have been fair. Meeds had a job to do and at least the fellow had sent me some company.

'So I'm to stay out of the way then, yes?'

'Yessir!'

Stanley blurted out all too hurriedly as though it was a relief that he had not had to explain himself any further, or return to Meeds with a tale of woe.

'Well I'm glad we've got that sorted. Now while I finish off my breakfast can I ask if you can get a telegram sent and delivered for me? You'll have to use the nearest post office as I don't want any official noses poking in, so you can't use the internal telegraph office.'

'What about the Chief, Sir? What'll I tell him?'

'You can tell him from me, that I'm more than happy to stay put as long as the tea and food keep flowing, but I want an update in a couple of hours or so. Now let me pen that telegram for you. Come pull up a chair, no need to stand there whilst I ponder.'

With paper and pen hastily found in a desk drawer, I wrote a note to my darling wife, it was short and sweet and I knew that I would suffer the consequences of leaving her so suddenly yesterday. But I was banking on a day of shopping providing some type of mollification. I finished the message by giving her our date of departure so she could arrange the necessary tickets. I looked up from my penmanship to see Stanley holding the Staff of Quitzlelotapoplekettle before him.

He caught my eye and hastily put it back down on the table'

'Er... interesting...um ..Thing.'

'It was a present.'

Stanley's eyes widened at this.

'Really, Sir? You must have some unusual friends... sorry... I mean... Well, the Chief said you were married... I know that doesn't mean much but....'

'Stanley, what exactly do you think it is ...hmmm?'

'Oh, I wouldn't like to say sir, I mean, well... I've heard about.... always a lot of talk about women and sailors and what tickles their fancy.'

I had to try very hard to stop myself from laughing out loud.

'Indeed, Stanley. I have heard similar, but what you have just been holding is actually an ancient relic from an ancient South American culture.'

'Oh! It's from foreign parts? That is a relief sir. Shall I go and see the chief now and get that telegram sent then?'

I let the chap go and chuckled through the remains of my breakfast. Once finished I sat and waited in vain for a follow up mug of tea, nothing came my way, and so I went about a somewhat reduced morning routine due to the lack of hot water and a razor, which Millie had neglected to pack. Whilst performing my ablutions the noise intensity outside seemed to rise. I felt the carriages rocking as the temporary workshop was removed on steam powered jacks and then minutes later I heard the wheels beneath squeak and squeal as they began to move forward. I had not heard the familiar whooshing of steam associated with any form of locomotive moving around and so I supposed that Annie and Clarabelle were being manhandled together. The brief journey ended with a jolt and the metallic clunk and rattle of buffers and chains.

With everything still, and nothing better to do, I wondered down to the gymnasium and opened up the armoury to see what additions, if any, had been acquired. Oh, what a difference a few days makes, a full rack of rifles, at least fifty boxes of .303 ammunition, webbing belts and bayonets and some shiny Navy issue cutlasses – enough to start a small war in some of the lesser known corners of the 'Dark Continent' – was Hobbes not letting on about something I wondered?

At that moment the telephone began its odd buzzing; I dashed down the corridor as quietly as I could to quell the noise and launched myself at the receiver.

'Hello, hello? Knolly, Bertie here. Mission accomplished.'

'Bertie, excellent news! Did you see Elspeth?' I whispered.

'No. She was up and about though. I got a right tongue lashing from Millicent though. Anyone would think it was my fault you had the guns. Why are you whispering?'

I went on to tell him that the Chief's engineering crew were now on site and that I was lying low until this evening. For some reason Bertie started whispering back which made for a difficult conversation. Despite this I did, in the end, manage to tell him where to meet up with us that evening and he rang off quite excited by the prospect.

By the time Stanley returned, I was starting to get rather impatient and wondering whether holing myself up down here in the depths of the Admiralty had been a good idea. I felt rather useless to say the least. I learnt that it was raining outside and that Chief Meeds was expecting to move out much earlier than originally expected. This came as rather a surprise as during last night's conversation, Meeds had intimated that none of the Navy's locomotives would be available until late evening at the earliest.

So the day wore on with Stanley as my only companion, fetching me meals and mugs of tea for which I remain truly grateful. I vowed that as soon as I could I would furnish myself with some books for the journey. I only had myself to blame for I should have asked Stanley to fetch me copy of the Times when he ventured topside. I was just settling in for yet another game of shove halfpenny with Stanley when the carriage began to shake ever so slightly, so much so that the coins moved across the board of their own design something was arriving on platform one.

The Great Knolly Archive

19.02.09 Front Page

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