The Wonderground

9 - The Wonderground

A young man with wavy brown hair to his shoulders and a bum-fluff moustache was standing over them. He grinned at them from the top of three brass carriage steps that unfolded and rested on the platform edge. He looked no older than twenty-one. His uniform suggested that he worked on the train, but he looked nothing like any Transport for London employee that any of them had ever seen. His jacket was livid blue, with tails and shiny gold-coloured buttons running in two straight lines from his shoulders down to his belt buckle. Horizontal braided stripes ran across his narrow chest. At his left breast were two small, tarnished silver medals. At the collar of his jacket was a long thin gold pin with the same winged 'W' logo they had seen on the train driver's top hat. He was wearing an old fashioned high sided cap, with a shiny ebony peak and a larger, gold badge that matched the one at his neck. It was pushed back on the top of his head. Resting on the peak of the cap was a pair of round, metal-framed goggles that attached to the hat with press studs above his ears. He was wearing tight trousers and knee-high jet-black leather boots that were shinier than the medals. His left sleeve sported an embroidered patch that read 'CONDUCTOR' in gold lettering.

"Customers!" he hailed again. "Welcome, welcome," he gestured enthusiastically, waggling a spoon. "Step on board the Shadow Kiss and please do not mind the gap, it is only narrow." He licked the spoon and slid it into the top pocket of his jacket.

"He's a much better actor than Isaac," admitted Rose.

They warily stepped up into the carriage and the heavy metal doors hissed closed behind them. It was a goods compartment. There was a strong smell of coal and oil. And sticky toffee pudding. Cardboard boxes were piled haphazardly against the walls, blocking some of the windows. Nestled amongst the collection of brown square packages was a small writing desk with a decorative, unlit lamp sporting a floral shade with fringe and tassels. A bowl with the remains of a meal sat on a thick book in the middle of the desk. A series of stained blinds shaded the carriage windows. It was dark. The young man clapped his hands twice and the desk lamp flickered into life, shedding a small pool of yellow light at their feet.

"Eeleye Slugcandle, at your service," said the man, giving a short bow.

Jack laughed out loud at the guard's name. "Seriously?" he sniggered. "That's the best name the tour company could come up with?"

"It is the best name that my parents could come up with," countered the conductor with a puzzled expression.

"That would be Mr. and Mrs. Slugcandle?" scoffed Rose, joining in the fun.

"Yes, of course!" said Eeleye, his face lighting up. "Do you know them?"

"Oh, you're good!" sniggered Rose.

"Unfortunately, the next departure is not for hours," said Eeleye, shaking off his confusion and continuing his patter. "Might I suggest a quick trip around the Emporium while you wait?"

"What's the Emporium?" asked Isla.

"Probably the gift shop," surmised Elliot. "These tourist attractions always get you to walk through it before you leave so they can get more money out of you."

"Everyone should visit the Emporium when they travel on the Wonderground," said Eeleye proudly.

"Excuse me," said Charlie. "Did you just say 'Wonder'? 'Ground'?"

"Wonderground," replied Eeleye, "one word." He pointed proudly at the large gold 'W' on his cap.

"It's a dusty, old, abandoned platform," said Jack disdainfully. "I'd hardly use the word 'wonder'!"

Eeleye moved to a small recess and pulled down on a large bronze handle. After a short burst of escaping air, the doors slowly hissed open again. "I beg to differ with you, young man," he exclaimed as a bright cobalt light flooded into the goods compartment from the platform.