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“If you haven’t got a ticket you can’t get on the train, you know,” scolded Anne

“Where did you come from?” shouted Branwell, far too loudly “Why do you look like a wastepaper bin?”

“Children ought to be seen and NOT HEARD, ORRIGHT?” barked the station no concern at all for the enorht in front of him

“Can’t you see the paper s in the middle of your station?” snapped Charlotte She was unable to bear this total abandoner

“All I see are a pack of brats who ought to be in school!” the stationmaster snarled back, and slammed his littleshut Emily flinched

School

The 2:00 train arrived in Keighley Station None of thes They’d heard the better-off folk in the village talk about the huge, noisy, smoky, rattley beasts But here it caine,sound they’d felt in their chests, puffing and whistling and thu

“They look so different in the newspapers,” whispered Emily

In fact, no train in any newspaper anywhere in any country looked anything at all like the one steaine h the dead winterand decided it wanted to see the world The sorse branches The carriage doors were thatches of old heather and gooseberry thorns Great hay wheels turned along the tracks as though they heels of ir

on, bound to a long, rough-hacked ruby axle But not the pretty, polished rubies that you’d put in a ring Ancient, glowering red stone still clotted up with black rock The wicker engine drew ilass and pheasant feathers and even ’s lace that seemed somehow as sturdy as steel

The train’s headlaht out of the night like a coin from behind your ear

The children stared as the train ca, its s full of shadows Emily’s mouth dropped open She simply couldn’t make any sense of it, no matter which way she turned her head Perhaps this was simply what trains looked like They’d only just been invented, after all Perhaps rubies and apple skincurtains were so usual to the well-off folk in Haworth that it never occurred to thes up down at the pub But surely, surely Blackwood’s had never ht the way

“What if so,” Branhispered, “and swapped the train?”

Anne giggled h the top of her head had coht, it’s a drea!”

Charlotte said nothing, but that smile that was so slow to co was happening Soly fantastic that no fanciful lie she’d ever told could top it