Banjo Trouble at Combwich

Here we are at Combwich on the hottest afternoon of the summer of 1959, and the little tank engine unofficially borrowed from Shrewsbury shed refuses to move another inch until someone finds the station cat, which is just one of Bob Geeza Cat’s many roles. “He were here this morning,” declares Driver Wilkins, wiping soot from his brow. “Sat on the coal bunker like Isambard Kingdom Brunel.” Nobody…