Stoker by Carolyn Glass

I never realised what a dirty job it was. I had always wanted to ride in a steam train, not in the carriages you understand, up front with the driver, wind in my hair type of scenario. So when a mate said his dad could get me a ride on the local Steam Railway, I was mega excited. I was told I needed overalls and sturdy boots, but that was fine, I was fulfilling a long held ambition. So I pitched up on Sunday morning, all smiles and reported to the driver, he thrust a shovel in my hand and said, the coals their (and pointed at a truck behind the engine) get shovelling. I didn’t see a thing the whole trip, I was shovelling the whole time with my head down, I was glad to get off at the end of the journey, I was completely knackered, and black from head to foot! They wouldn’t even let me get in a carriage for the return journey, “how do you think we can make the return journey without a stoker?” They laughed. I’ll bet the last guy is in prison for bashing the drivers head in with a shovel!