So much happened after we moved to the White House by the railway like meeting Mr Perks and the old gentleman and saving the train and the baby on the barge that, watching us, you might have thought we'd forgotten all about Father and his mysterious going away.
But of course, we hadn't forgotten at all.
Not any of us.
E. Nesbitt's story of the railway children, dramatized in four parts by Marcy Cahan.
Part Four After father went away, we were very poor and mother tried to earn money by writing stories.
She would shut herself in her workshop day and night and not leave off even for ten minutes.
Here's your tea, mother.
Do drink it while it's hot.
You're a darling, Bobby.
Oh, wait, don't rush off.
There's something I have to ask you.
What is it, mother?
Do you think Peter and Phil are forgetting Father?
No, certainly not.
Why?
None of you ever speak of him now?
We often talk of him when we're by ourselves.
But not to me.
We thought you were so unhappy about Daddy not being here.
It made you worse when we talked about him.
It would be much worse if you were to forget him.
Mother, this trouble Father has to sort out, it won't last always.
No.
The worst will be over when Father comes home to us.
I wish I could comfort you.
Oh, my dear.
Do you think I haven't noticed how good you've been?
Cleaning my shoes, tending the flowers, and not quarrelling nearly as much as you used to.
That's nothing to... I must get on with my work, Bobby.
Thank you for the tea.
Peter, I need the rake.
Well, I'm using it now.
But I had it before I got Mother's tea.
Exactly.
It's my turn.
You're always being disagreeable about nothing.
I told you this morning I meant to have it, didn't I, Phil?
I don't remember.
You don't remember because he never said it.
I wish I had a brother instead of two whiny sisters.
Well, I can't think my boys were ever invented.
Stop shouting, you'll disturb Mother.
Take the horrid rake, then.
Serve your right.
My foot!
Oh, my foot!
What happened, Bobby?
Well, it was the rake.
Peter was pulling at it, so was Bobby, and she let go and he went over.
Stop that noise at once, Peter.
Are you hurt?
If he was really hurt, he wouldn't make such a fuss.
I think my foot's broken.
That's all.
He is hurt.
He's fainted.
Run for Dr. Forrest, Bobby.
I'd better not move him.
There we are, Peter.
Nicely bandaged, if I do say so myself.
He won't be lame.
Or have to wear a boot with a sole like a log of wood, will he?
My, oh, no, he'll be as nimble on his pins as ever in a week.
As long as he doesn't touch ground for a few days.
And don't you worry, head nurse.
I must go and see your mother.
Thank you, Dr. Forrest.
Peter.
What?
It was all my fault.
Oh, what?
I knew it was wrong to quarrel.
I wanted to say so, but somehow I couldn't.
Well, don't drivel.
If you're not careful, Bobby, you'll turn into a little Sunday school prig.
I don't mean to be a prig.
Well, I'm glad it was me that was hurt.
If it had been you, you'd have been lying on the sofa like a suffering angel and being the light of the anxious household and I couldn't have stood it.
I wouldn't have carried on like that.
Oh, yes, you would.
I tell you, I wouldn't.
I tell you, you would.
Oh, for goodness sake.
Bobby, Peter, quarrelling again already.
After my disaster with Peter and the rake, I tried not to quarrel with him and I tried not to be a prig.
But Mother was busy, and Peter wasn't able to move about.
And before I knew it, things went from bad to worse.
Hello, Miss Roberta.
How's the young gent?
Peter's better, thanks, Perks.
But he's most frightfully bored.
I wondered if you got any magazines from your waiting room you could lend him.
Magazines?
I'm afraid I sent the pick of them to Snigson's boy.
Him what's getting over the pneumonia.
There's these illustrated papers left.
Oh, Peter will like those.
Well, you can take them with pleasure.
There's lots of pictures.
If Peter wants to mess them about with his paint box, why, let him.
I don't want them.
You're a dear, Perks.
Bye now.
Bye for now.
I had to wait at the level crossing.
That's when I noticed the article in the newspaper.
It was staring at me from the top of the pile.
There was a photograph of Father.
The headline read... End of trial.
Verdict and sentence.
There was Father's name and the verdict.
Guilty.
And the sentence... Five years penal servitude.
Roberta, what is it, darling?
This, Mummy...
It's not true.
It can't be true.
Of course it's not true.
But there were letters, incriminating evidence.
Someone in Father's office was spying.
He must have planted the letters in Father's desk.
But who?
There was a colleague who was always jealous of your father because Daddy was so clever and everyone liked him.
Couldn't we explain all that to somebody?
Nobody will listen, darling.
Do you suppose I've not tried everything?
No, my dearest.
There's nothing to be done but to be brave and patient.
I'll try, Mother.
We won't talk of this anymore.
Now wash your face and let's go out into the garden.
I didn't mention my discovery to Peter or Phyllis, but I did write another letter to the kindly old gentleman on the 915 train.
Good morning, sir.
Ah, folks, good morning.
A letter for you, sir, from Miss Roberta.
Thank you, folks.
My dear old gentleman, you see what is in this newspaper clipping?
It is not true.
Father never did it.
Mother says someone put the papers in Father's desk.
But nobody listens to a word she says.
You are so good and clever.
Can't you find out who did the treason?
And then they would let father out of prison.
It is dreadful, and mother is getting so thin.
Think if it was your daddy what you would feel.
Oh, do, do, do help me, your affectionate friend, Roberta.
Mother would send her regards if she knew I was writing, but it is no use telling her in case you can't do anything.
But I know you will.
There's Bobby!
Bobby, where have you been?
Peter!
Who gave you permission to walk about?
The doctor, so there.
You're just in time.
There's going to be a paper chase.
Grammar school, boys.
What's a paper chase?
It's a sort of race.
The hare is the boy who runs ahead and scatters bits of paper across the countryside.
Then the hounds, that's all the other boys, run after him following the paper trail.
First hound to catch up with the hare has won.
Where should we stand?
Down by the tunnel, where those workmen are.
Excuse me?
May we stand here and watch?
Aye, so long as you stand clear.
Oh, look!
Here comes the hare!
He's going to scatter the papers in the tunnel.
Hey, there, that's against bylaws.
Oh, live and live's what I always say, Mr Bates.
Ain't you never been young yourself?
They're doing no harm.
Still, I ought to report that lad, Eric, charging through tunnels.
Oh, it's just a bit of fun's what I always say.
Passengers are forbidden to cross line on any pretext.
Excuse me.
He's not a passenger.
He's the hare.
She means the schoolboy.
I mean the hare.
And here come the hounds.
They don't know what they're in for.
Is it so easy running at dark?
You're right.
That dawn takes two or three turns.
Do you think they'll take long to get through?
An hour or more, I shouldn't wonder.
Let's cut across the top and watch them come out the other end.
MUSIC
Just our luck.
We've missed them.
No, we haven't.
It took ages to climb up here.
Oh, look, the view.
I hate views.
This view is different.
Look out, here comes the help.
Oh, my.
Here come the hounds!
There they go!
I've had enough of this.
What shall we do now?
Go along to the wood over there and have a picnic lunch?
Wait a minute, that's not the last.
There's the one in the red jersey to come.
Yet peter's right, the red jersey was behind the others going in.
Maybe we missed him.
Don't think so.
Perhaps he's resting inside.
Oh, do, do, do let's have something to eat.
Don't you see?
Maybe the boy in the red jersey has had an accident.
Perhaps even as we speak he's lying with his head on the metals, an unresisting prey to any passing train.
Oh, stop trying to talk like a book, Peter.
What I mean is, we'd better go down to the tunnel mouth.
The red jersey may need our help.
Come on, Phil.
Keep close behind me.
If a train comes, stand flat against the tunnel wall and hold your dress close to you.
Give me a sandwich and a wheel.
Here, Phil, I'm going front.
It was my idea.
Bobby!
Peter!
I want to go back.
I don't like it.
It'll be pitch dark in a minute.
Don't be a silly cuckoo.
I've got a candle end and matches and...
What's that?
It's a train.
Which line?
Let me go back.
Can this don't be a coward?
It's quite safe.
Stand back.
Come on, quick.
Manhole.
It's a dragon.
Come on.
Peter, what if the red jersey was in the way of the train?
I don't know.
I suppose we'd better go and see.
Couldn't we go and send someone from the station?
It's up to you, Phyllis.
You can wait here for us if you like.
No, no, no.
Let's go.
Hello?
Hello?
We'll never find him.
It's too dark.
We've got to try.
Stop going so fast, Peter.
We've got to get to him before the next train.
Look.
Just there.
Something red.
Where?
On the right, next to the track.
Is it blood?
Is he all killed?
Blood nonsense.
There's nothing red about him but his jersey.
He's only fainted.
Can we move him?
I don't know.
He's a big chap.
Suppose we bathe his forehead with milk from the picnic.
Yes, and rub his eyes.
They burn feathers when someone's fainted.
What's the use of saying that when we haven't any feathers?
As it happens, I've got a shuttlecock in my pocket, so there.
Quick, Peter.
Light the feathers on the shuttlecock.
Do, do wake up.
For my sake.
Oh, I believe he's dead.
For my sake?
No, he isn't.
For any sake, come out of it.
What's up?
Here, drink this.
What is it?
It's milk.
Fear not, you are in the hands of friends.
I'm better now, thank you.
I remember all of it.
Oh, bother.
I believe I've broken my leg.
Did you tumble down?
I'm not a kiddie.
It was one of those silly wires tripped me up and I couldn't stand.
So I sat down again.
We saw you all go into the tunnel, but then we realized that you'd failed to come out.
We're the rescue party.
That took some courage, coming to this nasty tunnel.
Do you think you could walk if we helped you?
I could try.
Oh, dear.
He's fainted again.
You must go and get help.
The nearest people you can find.
I don't think Mother would like me leaving you.
Of course she would.
I'm perfectly all right.
Now hurry up, both of you.
All right, Bobby.
We'll be back as soon as we can.
Oh, your poor leg.
You don't have a cushion.
What a useful thing flannel petticoats are.
Flannel petticoats?
Oh!
You're awake.
Please try not to faint again.
I'll do my best.
What's your name?
Jim.
Mine's Bobby.
But you're a girl, aren't you?
My long name's Roberta.
I say, Bobby?
Yes, Jim?
Was I dreaming or weren't there some more of you just now?
Peter and Phil, my brother and sister.
They've gone to fetch someone to carry you out.
Peter, Phil and Bobby.
Bobby.
All boys' names?
Yes.
I wish I was a boy.
Don't you?
I think you're all right as you are.
You're just as brave as a boy.
Somebody had to stay with you.
Is your leg hurting?
I'll be okay.
Of course you will.
We're back.
We found two removal men.
Removal men, indeed.
I told you there'd be trouble, Eric.
So, this is the chap, eh?
How is he?
Fast asleep.
Let's have a look at him.
Do you know where he lives?
Northumberland.
He's at school at Maidbridge.
I'd better get the doctor to have a look at this leg.
Bring him up to our house, to Three Chimneys.
It's just a little way by the road.
Will your ma like you bringing home strangers with broken legs?
She took the poor Russian home herself.
I'm sure mother would say we ought to.
Right.
Three chimneys it is, then.
Go on, bud.
That's it.
Phyllis, you run on ahead and catch Dr. Forrest.
I'm tired of running.
Come on, Phil.
You're the best man for the job.
I'd be grateful if you did, Phil.
Oh, you're awake.
He's awake.
Go on, Phil.
Right.
I'm off to collect Dr. Forrest.
Mother, I know you're busy working.
Well, Roberta?
We found a hound in a red jersey in the tunnel and he's broken his leg and the workmen carried him here.
They ought to take him to the vet.
I really can't have a lame dog here.
He's not a dog, really.
He's a boy.
His mother's dead and his father's in Northumberland.
Oh, Mother, will you be nice to him?
We did do the right thing.
Of course you did, darling.
Now show me this hound.
We need to get him comfortable before the doctor arrives.
Mother, I know you're busy working.
Oh, come in, Peter.
I was just writing to Jim's grandfather.
He lives near here, you know.
Yes.
That's what I want to say.
Must you write to him, Mother?
Couldn't we keep Jim and not say anything to his grandfather until he was well?
Jim's family need to know where he is, Peter, and his schoolmaster.
The girls are all right, Mother.
I'm not saying anything against them.
But I do like having another boy to talk to sometimes.
Of course you do, darling.
So if Jim could stay on after his leg was well, oh, Mother, we'd have such great fun.
We're not rich enough, dear.
I can't afford to get Jim everything he'll need.
He must have a nurse.
You nurse people beautifully, Mother.
But I can't do nursing and my writing as well.
Then you'd better send the letter to his grandfather.
Maybe the grandfather can pay for the nurse.
I expect the old boy's rolling in money.
That only happens in books, Peter.
I wish you were writing the book of our lives, Mother.
Then Jim's leg would get better tomorrow and Father would be home soon.
Do you miss your father very much?
Awfully.
Well, maybe, if we're lucky, we're all in a book that God's writing.
Then everything will work out for the best.
Shall I post those letters for you, Mother?
Please, darling.
Oh, cheer up!
We're bound to have Jim for two or three weeks, yes.
Mother, why do we have to polish the brass candlestick?
In honour of Jim's visitor.
It'll cheer him up to see a pair of gleaming candlesticks.
May we visit Jim this morning?
Not until you've tidied the sitting room.
That'll be the doctor.
I'll go and keep this door shut.
Phyllis is too grubby for civilised eyes.
But Dr Forrest came yesterday.
That's because Jim needs a lot of attention at the moment.
That's not Dr Forrest.
Dr. Forrest has been attacked by highwaymen, and this is the man he's sent for to take his place.
Maybe the doctor's fallen down in a fit and the man on the stairs has been sent to break the news to Mother.
Nonsense.
Mother wouldn't have sent a messenger into Jim's bedroom.
Hang on.
Mother's coming back.
Bobby, Jim's grandfather has come.
So soon?
Go and wash your hands and faces and then you can see him.
He wants to see you.
Pour out the hot water.
This polish has made my face as black as Perks' hat.
Come in, children.
I'd like you to meet Jim's grandfather.
Well, I never.
Look who it is.
It's our own old gentleman.
Oh, it's you.
How do you do?
Hello, children.
I'm so awfully glad it's you.
When you think of all the old gentlemen there are in the world, it might have been almost anyone.
I suppose you've come to take Jim away.
Oh, not quite yet.
Your mother has kindly consented to give up writing for a while to become matron of my hospital.
Oh, shall we have to go away from the three chimneys and the railway and everything?
No, darling.
The hospital is right here, and my unlucky grandson is the only patient.
Your mother will be matron, and I shall employ a staff of a housemaid and a cook.
What about Mother's writing?
Who knows?
Perhaps something nice may happen, and she won't have to go on writing.
I love my writing.
Of course you do.
I'm not going to interfere, but one never knows.
Very wonderful and beautiful things do happen, don't they?
Indeed, we live most of our lives in the hope of them.
Thank you for letting Jim stay, sir.
Thank you, Free, for rescuing him.
Now, will Bobby do me the honour of walking me to the gate?
Oh, yes.
Anything.
I know I always seem to be writing and asking you for things.
Don't apologize, Roberta.
This time your letter wasn't needed.
When I read about your father's case at the time, I had my doubts.
Ever since I've known you, I've been trying to find out things.
So we may hope.
We may.
But it shall be our secret a little longer.
And you don't think father did it?
My dear, I'm perfectly certain he didn't.
Life at the Three Chimneys was never quite the same after the old gentleman's visit.
We had a cook and a housemaid, which meant Mother was free to give us lessons.
Jim's leg got better and better.
We looked forward to the day he could join us in the garden.
Penny for your thoughts, Bobby.
I wonder if the railway misses us.
What with lessons and entertaining Jim, we never go near it now.
The thing I don't like is that we've stopped waving to the 915, sending our love to Father by it.
Let's begin again tomorrow.
There's the Green Dragon.
Only four minutes late.
Take our laughter, Father!
Take our laughter!
Peter!
Phyllis!
Look!
They're waving back!
Everyone's waving back!
They're all holding newspapers!
What on earth can it mean?
Come on, let's get back to the little white house.
We'll be late for Mother's geography lesson.
Tell Mother I'll be there soon.
I feel like walking.
Bobby, where are you going?
I just feel restless.
Don't worry, Mother will understand.
I walked along the embankment, then I walked into the village.
Everyone I passed said the oddest things.
God bless you lot.
Good morning to you, missy.
Many of them.
I wish you all joy, that I do.
When I got to the station, Perks the porter looked at me as though he'd been expecting me.
Hello.
Here you are.
Well, if this is the train, it'll be smart work.
Well, God bless me, dear.
I don't think I was ever so glad of anything in all my born days.
And then he kissed me.
Something I'd never expect Perks to do in a million years.
Only three people got out of the 1154.
A countryman with two baskets full of live chickens, Miss Peckett, the grocer's wife, with a tin box, and then, then I saw him.
Roberta!
Oh, my daddy!
My daddy!
Oh, Roberta.
I knew something wonderful was going to happen, but I didn't think it would be this.
Then didn't Mother get my letter?
There weren't any letters this morning.
Oh, it is really you, isn't it?
It's all right, Bobby.
They've caught the man who did it.
Everyone knows now that it wasn't your father.
I always knew it wasn't.
Me and Mother and the old gentleman.
Yes, it's all his doing.
Mother wrote and told me you'd found out.
My own little girl.
On the way home, I tell Father about the railway and all our adventures.
I see Father crossing the field and walking into the garden and entering the house where Mother is.
He goes in and the door is shut.
Peter and Phyllis are playing round the back.
I tell them the good news, but we don't go in just yet.
We stand looking at the White House, where neither we nor anyone else is wanted now.
In part four of The Railway Children by E Nesbitt, dramatized by Marcy Cahan Victoria Carling was Roberta, Daniel Eisen was Peter, Kate McEnery was Phyllis, Frances Jeter was mother and Philip Voss was father.
Timothy Bateson was the old gentleman, Paul Copley was Perks, and Peter Hull was Dr. Forrest.
Paul Downing played the part of Jim, Fraser Carr the foreman, and Ben Onwukwe the workman.
The music was composed by Elizabeth Parker and The Railway Children was directed by John Taylor.
