Derailment

[Channel Delibird]

This is the story I submitted as part of my English GCSE coursework last year. There's some debate on whether it makes sense/works or not, but I thought I'd share it with you guys.

Derailment

Note to Reader: Please bear with me in relation to the datings of the various paragraphs. They are NOT typos. Please read them all even if they look the same, as you may miss key elements of the plot if you don’t. Thank you - and I hope you enjoy this story.


The Firs
26th June, 2008
1.
“He came in late last night. From Carlisle, I hear.”
“Carlisle? No wonder he was so late,” Tomasz Ferdinand murmured, not so much to the janitor standing next to him, but more to himself, as he stroked his stubbly grey-tinted chin. Shutting the door behind him, he beckoned the janitor to follow him down the uninspiring corridor of the Firs Home.
“And you say he was a detective?”
“That’s right, Tom. In on the Lombard Case, in fact.”
“That was him? And we’re the ones who end up with him…how odd,” Tomasz said quietly, trailing off a little as they reached the door to the room. It was an old door, a rusty metal coat over its wooden bulk, with a miserly, basic handle quite low down. A new sign had been hung over a hook on the door. It read “Michael Platter”.

2.
The man hunched over a notebook didn’t look up as they entered. His eyes were screwed up in concentration, his bald head a little blotchy. Michael Platter muttered to himself wildly, almost desperate.
“No…makes…no sense…grandfather…accent…maybe…”
The janitor raised an eyebrow in Tomasz’s direction. “What’s he on about, d’you think?”
The logic Tomasz had inherited from his Czech mother kicked into gear as he studied the newest resident.
“That notebook…it’s terribly old. Maybe even a quarter of a century’s use…”
“Quarter of a century?” The janitor pondered this for a moment. “You think he’s talking about the Lombard Case?”
“We’ll see.”
Tomasz walked over to the faded leather couch on which Platter was perched, crouching so that his eyes were at the same level.
“Hello, Mr. Platter. My name is Tomasz.”
“…Tabitha, brooch….” The aged detective showed no sign of understanding.
“If you need anything, you can contact me by pressing this call button here.”
Tomasz pointed at a doorbell-like contraption fitted to the wall. The response he received was a mere grunt, and Tomasz hoped Platter had understood. Bemused and concerned, he watched the old man think…

Lombard House
13th April, 1984
As recorded in the notebook of Michael Platter
Date of Entry: 15th April, 1984
“Welcome to Lombard House, Michael. It’s been too long.”
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ephidel.”
Ephidel was dressed in a sharp, snazzy navy blue suit with matching tie – it seemed ten years hadn’t changed his style. The half-ring of grey hair around his scalp was well kept-down, and a genuine smile adorned his face. Michael was only too pleased to return the simple gesture.
As he was led inside, Michael took the time to look around every inch of corridor, taking in the sights and smells of the ornate hall. Recently repainted green walls ran down either side of the corridor, impressionist paintings providing a variety of blues and whites that well complemented the wallpaper.
“Do you like it?” Lombard asked loudly as they approached the end of the hall, “I’d rather thought it was quite attractive before with the regal red that you know I love,” (Michael nodded warmly.) “But Tabitha convinced me to change at last. Not sure about it myself – is it any good?”
Michael thought for a few seconds, examining it again. “What it needs is a nice regal red strip along the top. Give it some life.”
Ephidel chuckled. “I never knew you had such a keen mind for interior design. Well, I must speak to Tabitha about it, but even if she says no I’m going to try it. Thank you, old friend.”
There was no more time for talk as Lombard led Platter into the massive Lombard Ballroom. The ceiling was at least twice Michael’s size (surprising, as he had always been a tall man) and was painted regal red with gold trim. From it hung an exquisite chandelier, which led the eyes naturally down to the guests…

[Channel Delibird]

Lombard House
13th April, 1984

“Welcome to Lombard House, Michael. It’s been too long.”
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ephidel.”
Ephidel Lombard, world-famous millionaire owner, founder and chairman of Lombard Transport, was dressed in a designer navy blue suit with matching tie. The half-ring of grey hair around his scalp was neat and tidy, and a genuine smile adorned his face. Platter returned the gesture.
Lombard led Platter through the long hallway, the walls of which had just been repainted in green, with impressionist paintings hanging to add some colour.
“Do you like it?” Lombard asked loudly as they approached the end of the hall, “I’d rather thought it was quite attractive before with the regal red that you know I love,” (Platter nodded warmly.) “But Tabitha convinced me to change at last. Not sure about it myself – is it any good?”
Platter thought for a few seconds, perhaps examining it once more. “What it needs is a nice regal red strip along the top. Give it some life.”
Ephidel chuckled. “I never knew you had such a keen mind for interior design. Well, I must speak to Tabitha about it, but even if she says no I’m going to try it. Thank you, old friend.”
There was no more time for talk as Lombard led Platter into the massive Lombard Ballroom. The ceiling was over twice the size of Platter, who was quite a tall man, and was painted regal red with gold trim. From it hung an exquisite chandelier, which led the eyes naturally down to the guests…

The Firs
26th June, 2008
3.
The evening came quickly for Tomasz, as it always did nowadays. Very little ever changed around the Sanderson Home, and a lot of the time Tomasz was only half-conscious of what he did.
A welcome change to his normal routine was that in the room next to Platter’s, Robert James had been complaining of foxes in his room overnight. For months it had been mountain goats, and Tomasz was quite pleased to hear they had finally gone home to Nepal. Of course, it was all completely unreal, but for James they had definitely been in his room, and so Tomasz pretended they had, promising James that he would speak to the manager about it.
When the dusk did arrive, Tomasz led each resident to the eating area one by one, leaving Platter until last.
When Tomasz finally opened the door to Platter’s room, he found the old man asleep on the sofa, notebook on his chest, open but face-down. He saw this often, especially with the newer residents, but this time Tomasz couldn’t bring himself to wake him. Even after he’d only been around him for a day, Tomasz realised that, when awake, Platter made himself so stressed from trying to solve something long dead that he really needed some sleep.
Tomasz went to the dull kitchens and collected Platter’s food tray, taking it back to the patient’s room. Placing it on the obviously hastily-repaired wooden coffee table, quietly, so as not to wake the ex-detective, he couldn’t resist slowly extracting the notebook from his grasp. Sitting down in the armchair next to the sofa, Tomasz began to read the scrawled writings…

Lombard House
13th April, 1984
As recorded in the notebook of Michael Platter
Date of Entry: 16th April, 1984
The incredibly spacious Lombard Ballroom was almost completely full of posh-looking people in smart suits and elegant dresses, and Michael couldn’t help feeling a little out of place in his brown leather jacket and dark jeans.
Ephidel smiled at him. “I must introduce you to Tabitha – she’ll probably be over with her grandfather by the seating. Funny really…I was so sure I’d met him before, but it seems I haven’t. A little shorter than I’d thought…”
Michael followed his former employer through the crowd, stopping now and then to be introduced to people as he went. As they approached the buffet table, Michael noticed a stunningly beautiful young woman wearing a sparkling blue dress bring a glass of wine over to one of the armchairs, where an old man was sat, seemingly oblivious to the noise of people chatting.
Lombard called to his wife, who looked up from handing her grandfather his glass to examine Michael. Her eyes carried a steely glare that clashed severely with her pretty looks. Michael smiled anyway, and after a moment his gesture was returned. Ephidel gestured for them both to sit down.
“Michael, this is my wife, Tabitha. Tabitha, Michael Platter. You know, the one who worked for me once or twice in Carlisle before we were married.”
“Oh, yes.” Tabitha leaned across to shake Michael’s hand. “Ephidel has spoken very highly of you to me. It’s a pleasure.” Her accent was very Scottish, and Michael spied a tartan brooch on her dress. Tabitha glanced in the direction his eyes were pointing.
“Ah, you like it?” She smiled. “It’s Buchanan clan. As a matter of fact, my grandfather here made it for me.”
She put a hand on the old man’s shoulder, and tapped him gently. “Grandfather, wake up. You must meet this friend of Ephidel’s. He’s a detective.” As if searching for confirmation, her eyes darted back toward Michael, who nodded.
Tabitha’s grandfather raised his head. “Hmm? Detective? My, my…what have we done wrong? Don’t tell me you’ve been –“ he paused for a moment “- being naughty again, uh, Tabby?”
As Tabitha explained to her grandfather, Ephidel whispered to Michael. “See what I mean? He’s terribly short. Anyway, yes, you’d probably better call him Frank. It’s a lot easier, and he doesn’t really seem to care. Poor old thing’s a little gone in the head.”
The conversation continued for quite some time, although at about half past eight in the evening Tabitha politely excused herself and went to get some food for herself and Frank. Ephidel was obliged to meet some of the late arrivals, and so Michael decided to join the crowd and see what was going on.
He was just about to enter the mass of people when he noticed Tabitha’s Buchanan brooch lying on the floor. He felt he should return it, and so pocketed it before scanning the room for Tabitha.
After unsuccessfully trying to locate her by looking at tops of heads, Michael decided to search the hard way, by walking around the room and hoping he would bump into her at some point. He started by the buffet table, where many people had gathered, but there was no sign of her. Then back by the seating, and then by the exit to the hall…
After nearly twenty minutes of searching, Michael heard Ephidel’s voice booming out across the ballroom. He’d better not miss the speech, so it seemed that returning Tabitha’s brooch might have to come later.

The Firs
26th June, 2008
4.
Tomasz paused for a moment as he read, as he thought he heard Platter stirring. After a few seconds he assumed that he had been wrong, and so was about to continue when an odd thought popped into the back of his mind. He wondered how well the old man had remembered an incident so long ago…

Lombard House
13th April, 1984

The incredibly spacious Lombard Ballroom was almost completely full of posh-looking people in smart suits and elegant dresses, and Platter visibly squirmed a little as he realised his clothes were much more informal.
Ephidel smiled at him. “I must introduce you to Tabitha – she’ll probably be over with her grandfather by the seating. Funny really…I was so sure I’d met him before, but it seems I haven’t. Quite a little shorter than what I’d thought…”
Platter followed his former employer through the crowd, stopping now and then to be introduced to people as he went. Near the buffet table they saw a brown-haired young woman wearing a sparkling blue dress bring a glass of wine over to one of the armchairs, where an old man was seated, seemingly oblivious to the noise of people chatting.
Lombard called to his wife, who looked up from handing her grandfather his glass to examine Platter. Her eyes carried a steely glare that clashed severely with her pretty looks. Platter smiled nevertheless, and after a moment his gesture was returned. Ephidel gestured for them both to sit down.
“Michael, this is my wife, Tabitha. Tabitha, Michael Platter. You know, the one who worked for me once or twice in Carlisle before we were married.”
“Oh, yes.” Tabitha leaned across to shake Platter’s hand. “Ephidel has spoken very highly of you to me. It’s a pleasure.” Her accent was very Scottish, and she wore a tartan brooch on her chest. Tabitha caught Platter’s eyes examining it.
“Ah, you like it?” She smiled. “It’s Buchanan clan. As a matter of fact, my grandfather here made it for me.”
She put a hand on the old man’s shoulder, and tapped him gently. “Grandfather, wake up. You must meet this friend of Ephidel’s. He’s a detective.” As if searching for confirmation, her eyes darted back toward Platter, who nodded.
Tabitha’s grandfather raised his head. “Hmm? Detective? My, my…what have we done wrong? Don’t tell me you’ve been –“ he paused for a moment “- being naughty again, uh, Tabby?”
As Tabitha explained to her grandfather, Ephidel whispered to Platter. “See what I mean? He’s terribly short. Anyway, yes, you’d probably better call him Frank. It’s a lot easier, and he doesn’t really seem to care. Poor old thing’s a little gone in the head.” He sighed before continuing. “But, you know, the funny thing is that I’m sure he introduced himself as Frank Berkshire…oh well, I suppose I am getting older, it’s quite possible he said Buchanan…”
The conversation continued for quite some time, although at about half past eight in the evening Tabitha politely excused herself and went to get some food for herself and Frank. Ephidel was obliged to meet some of the late arrivals, and Platter was left by himself at the seating area.
He was just about to enter the mass of people when he noticed Tabitha’s Buchanan brooch lying on the floor. He pocketed it and scanned the room for Tabitha.
After unsuccessfully trying to locate her by looking at tops of heads, Platter began to wander around the ballroom to try and find her by luck. He started by the buffet table, where many people had gathered, but there was no sign of her. Then back by the seating, and then by the exit to the hall…
After nearly twenty minutes of searching, Platter heard Ephidel’s voice booming out across the ballroom.

[Channel Delibird]

The Firs
26th June, 2008
5.
“What are you doing?” Platter cried with alarming clarity as he awoke to see Tomasz reading from the notebook. He leapt off the couch and wrenched it out of his hands, grimacing as he did so. “You don’t touch this! You don’t touch this! No…”
Tomasz felt horrible. Platter’s eyes were wide open and he was clearly scared out of his mind. Wisely, he backed out of the door while Platter skimmed through the book, as if to make sure nothing had been tampered with.

The Firs
3rd July, 2008
6.
For the next few days, Tomasz found himself subconsciously avoiding Platter, startling himself with how scared he had been of the eighty-year-old’s outburst. Still, things had to be done, and there were times when he had to visit Platter, if only to check on his condition.
His condition, however, was not a good one. During the course of the week, Tomasz observed as Platter became more and more desperate in his scribbling. When eating with the other patients at dinner, he sat alone, eyeing the others with suspicion. He was losing sleep, his eyes surrounded by bags of skin and his scalp becoming more blotchy. The in-home doctor was only able to give a vague diagnosis of over-stress.
On the good side, he seemed to be forgetting the notebook incident, which meant that Tomasz was able to spend more time with him. The old man was depending on him a lot more; needing help to do things in his room like pour tea and open windows.
The recovery from Tomasz’s reading appeared complete when, one evening as Tomasz came to bring Platter to dinner, the old man looked up from his notebook and for the first time stared Tomasz in the eye.
“Thomas,” he croaked, “please…please help me.”
An arthritis-stricken hand offered the notebook to a surprised Tomasz.
“I don’t know anymore…what I think…I need to…explain it all…”
Slowly, Tomasz took the book, not yet opening it. “You want me to read this?”
Platter nodded, eyes pleading. “I know what happened…it’s in there…but…I keep writing it over again…try and remember more…can’t make sense of it…”
Tomasz needed no further explanation. He began to read.



Lombard House
13th April, 1984
As recorded in the notebook of Michael Platter
Date of Entry: 27th June, 2008
“As you can see,” Ephidel grinned, “there’s a train running outside the manor.”
This was news to most of the guests, as none had heard any trains. All now turned to the giant windows of the Lombard Ballroom, outside of which, sure enough, a train was moving along a track. It was black, and very streamlined, like a bullet, but a little slower. The words “Lombard Bullet 001” adorned it in regal red. There were a few “oohs” and “aahs” as people watched it.
Ephidel’s face was one of great pride. “It’s the new Lombard Bullet, the first in a line of trains I plan to introduce to England over the next few years. This one here will take me to work in Carlisle.”
There were a few laughs in the audience, but Ephidel smiled and nodded. “Anyway, that train is my birthday gift to England. There will initially be 63 of them when they first enter service, because it was my 63rd birthday last week, as you are of course aware.”
There was some polite clapping, as Ephidel rounded off his speech. “Have a good evening!”

A few minutes after the speech, Michael approached Ephidel, who was by the windows admiring the Bullet 001. Gently, Michael tapped him on the shoulder.
“Ah, Michael! How are you enjoying the party?” Ephidel didn’t wait for an answer. “What do you think of the Bullet?”
“It’s incredible,” Michael said, perfectly honestly. “I can’t believe you made it run so quietly.”
“Heh.” Ephidel’s eyes twinkled. “That’s a secret of the trade, Michael. My secret.”
The two men chuckled quietly, before Michael brought up what he had come over to say.
“Do you know where Tabitha is, Ephidel? I’ve found her brooch on the floor. I spent a few minutes looking for her in here, but she doesn’t appear to be around.”
“Oh?” Ephidel looked surprised. “She must be in her room, just a minute, I’ll take it up to her. Thank you, Michael.”
At this point Frank Buchanan appeared by Ephidel. “Mr. Lombard, I must speak to you.”
“Could you wait for a minute, please, Frank? I’ve got to go and take this upstairs quickly.”
“No,” countered the old man, whose voice was croaky but steely. “I need to see you right now. It’s extremely important.”
“Very well,” Ephidel sounded exasperated as he offered the brooch back to Michael. “I’m sorry, Michael, could I ask you to take this to Tabitha? Her room’s the first one on the left as you go up the stairs, which are over there.” He indicated in the direction of the stairs.
“No problem,” said Michael. “You go and talk to Frank.”
And so Michael headed for the stairs.

The Firs
3rd July, 2008
7.
“The Lombard Bullet?”
Tomasz looked up from the book and out through the window. Platter stared at him, hoping for an answer.
He didn’t get one.
“So that’s what the train outside is…”
Sure enough, a black bullet-shaped train was running along the track by the Sanderson Home.
Shrugging it off, Tomasz turned the page, to find writing dated from two days ago. What he read startled him rather.


Lombard House
13th April
As recorded in the notebook of Michael Platter
Date of Entry: 2nd July, 2008
Michael stepped off the top of the stairs into a long hallway with doors along the walls for quite a way. Turning to his left, he saw a very fancy white door with an elegantly painted T on the front. Definitely Tabitha’s room.
Knocking on the door, Michael received no reply. He waited a few seconds before knocking again. There was still no answer.
Finally, Michael gave up.
“I’m coming in.” And he did, pushing down on the ornate handle and entering the room.
It was a large room, but with no bed in, as Michael had instinctively thought when Ephidel had called it “Tabitha’s room”. But he could see now why it was hers. The walls were done in the tartan of the Buchanan clan, and there were Scottish heirlooms on one of the shelves. Strangely, however, those were the only things in the room.
As Michael examined the room, he felt a cold breeze from the open window. Moving to shut it, he took a quick look outside at the Bullet’s track.
It was then he noticed a dark shape on the track. It wasn’t moving.
Somebody was lying dead on the railway.

[Channel Delibird]

The Firs
3rd July, 2008
8.
Beep!
“Damn,” grunted Tomasz as he fished out his mobile. He studied the message for a moment, before putting the notebook down and turning to Platter.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Platter – I’ve got to go and do something for the manager. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Tomasz was very frustrated by now. Platter needed this sorting out, and Tomasz also felt an odd desire to read on. Clearly, behind a decaying mind was an intelligent man, and Tomasz very much wanted to continue reading the notebook.
He knew Platter wanted him to do so as well, but if anyone else had looked at the old man now they wouldn’t guess such a thing. He was already scribbling in the book again, muttering to himself in a different world. He just had time for a quick “please…hurry…” before Tomasz shut the door.

9.
An hour later, Tomasz re-entered Platter’s room with a tray of food and drink. In his effort to read through the notebook, Tomasz had completely forgotten the residents’ mealtimes, and he had spent the hour serving food and calming down confused patients.
Platter was asleep on the couch, but woke up immediately as the wooden door creaked to allow Tomasz in.
“Keep reading! Tell me…what happened!”
The urgency in Platter’s wild voice was more prominent than before, and as he flicked back through the pages to find where he had left off, Tomasz noticed that the new scribbles were much more untidy than the previous ones. Intrigued, he read on.

Lombard House
13th April, 1984
As recorded in the notebook of Michael Platter
Date of Entry: 3rd July, 2008
“My God,” Tomasz exclaimed in his deep voice. “Michael, I’m going to find Ephidel. You need to get outside and try to help Tabitha. Thank God you took those first aid courses.”
Michael nodded, and rushed out of the door. At last, the first job with his new mentor. It was unfortunate that it should be Tabitha who should be the victim in this case, though. He had rather taken a liking to Ephidel’s young Scottish wife.
Michael cannoned out of the stairwell and hastily “excuse me-d” through the startled guests and into the hall. As he ran, he noticed a few muddy footprints near the door. So, someone had been outside apart from Tabitha? He’d have to tell Tomasz.
Throwing the double doors aside, Michael ran to the track, and got the shock of his life.
It was not Tabitha who had had the accident.
Ephidel Lombard lay bleeding on the rails.

Lombard House
April
As recorded in the notebook of Michael Platter
Date of Entry: 3rd July, 2008
Michael rushed out of the tartan-clad room and hurried down the spiral stairs, entering the ballroom and immediately trying to spot Ephidel.
With no luck, he noticed Frank Buchanan on the edge of the crowd. Hastily, he ran to him and gently nudged him. "Excuse me, Mr….”
He couldn’t remember the name. It suddenly struck him that there were many things he thought the name should be. But which one? Carlisle, Buchanan, Ferdinand, Platter…
Frank was looking at him strangely.
“Excuse me, Frank. There’s been an accident outside. Can you get Ephidel and bring him outside as soon as you can?”
Frank’s eyes widened. “An accident, you say? Hmm…” Michael couldn’t help noticing the old man’s expression seeming a little too alarmed. “Yes, I’ll find him.”
“Thank you,” Michael quickly said before making for the exit.
As he ran down the hall, he noticed a few muddy footprints near the door. So, someone had been outside apart from Tabitha? He’d have to remember that.
Throwing the double doors aside, Michael ran to the track, and got the shock of his life.
It was not Tabitha who had had the accident.
Ephidel Lombard lay bleeding on the rails.

The Firs
3rd July, 2008
10.
The scrawls trailed off, and Tomasz shut the book cautiously, staring at Platter. The man was fading away. Not only mentally, but evidently physically too. Platter was shivering, eyes wide open and clearly afraid. Seemingly unable to speak, the ex-detective looked up at Tomasz, as if to ask what to do.
“I think I know what happened, Mr. Platter.”
As Tomasz said this, Platter’s expression softened a little, but he still shivered and grimaced in his lack of comfort.
“And I know what we have to do. Come; let me help you stand up. We’re going to catch a train.”

A Train Station
3rd July, 2008
11.
“Thank you, sir. And I hope your friend gets better soon.”
The ticket salesperson pushed the two beige slips of paper to Tomasz.
“Thank you very much.” Tomasz put the tickets in his pocket and his arm around Platter, keeping him upright. The colour was draining from his face now, but he seemed quite calm. Evidently he trusted Tomasz with this.
Tomasz slowly helped him to the platform, where the black Lombard Bullet 174 pulled in. Its jet-black doors slid apart for them to enter.
Enlisting the conductor’s help in sitting Platter down, Tomasz had the tickets collected and sat down next to the old man. A digital sign was on the ceiling telling passengers how long it would be until they arrived at the next station. Currently it read “Carlisle: 20 Minutes”.

Berkshire Mansion
4th July, 2008
12.
As the police cars drove into the distance, Tomasz turned to the sergeant next to him, arm still around the now-blanketed Platter to keep him up.
“Thank you, Mr. Ferdinand,” the policeman smiled. “Although I still don’t quite understand how you knew it was Miss Berkshire…I mean Mrs. Lombard.”
Tomasz looked back at the mansion before answering. “It was all in Mr. Platter’s notes. Unfortunately he didn’t realise it until he lost most of his sanity. It’s he who should be given the credit for the capture of Frank Berkshire and Tabitha Lombard.”
“I see…” said the policeman. “Well, I’m sure the papers will want to know about this. You’ll be somewhat of a star by tomorrow.”
“Oh, please no,” grinned Tomasz, “the public must know it was Michael Platter who solved the case.”
The sergeant nodded.

The Firs
5th July, 2008
13.
LOMBARD CASE FINALLY SOLVED
Michael Platter reveals truth at last

Yesterday, police in Carlisle revealed that the case of Ephidel Lombard’s death from 25 years ago has finally been solved, ironically by the detective who was present at the incident and failed to understand the goings-on in the first place. Michael Platter, now 83, was on the scene with a friend as Tabitha Lombard was arrested for the theft of half the Lombard millions, and his information was used to capture Frank Berkshire, who pushed Lombard, founder of Lombard Transport, into the path of the first Lombard Bullet train. Mrs. Lombard had stolen the money at Lombard’s 63rd birthday party and had hired her “grandfather” to kill Lombard with the train she used to escape to Carlisle, where she bought a mansion and assumed the identity of Roberta Berkshire for 25 years. Full details of the story can be found on page 4.

Tomasz put down the newspaper and thanked the janitor for bringing it to him, before sitting down in an armchair by the fire. Outside in the corridor, the removal people were taking away the personal items of Michael Platter from his former room.
Tomasz was not sad to have heard that Platter had passed away in his sleep the night before. He was sad that he could not have read the article that Tomasz just had.
But at least Platter would rest in peace, now that his case had finally been solved.