Chapter Text
“Douglas. Where’s Martin? He’s late and Martin is never late. You’re here for god’s sake, so you understand my concern.”
“Since I am not Sir’s personal assistant, Carolyn, I cannot provide you with an accurate appraisal of his location. However, I would hazard a guess that wherever he is located, it is somewhere other than here. Which is where I would most certainly like to be, as well. Have you tried calling him by any chance? Just asking, since that would seem to be the concerned thing to do.”
“Of course I’ve called him. He doesn’t answer.”
“Well, we’re on standby, anyway, so what’s the problem? We’ll probably be on standby for the next two weeks. Mr. Stanhope has a dodgy record for actually remembering he’s hired us. I mean he’s 86 year old. And has been for the last three years, per his wriggly recollection. Martin might simply be using the man’s dementia to get a bit more sleep. He’s been looking a little ragged lately. Well, more ragged than his usual state of dishevelment, so good for him having a lie-in.”
“Standby or not, Martin is supposed to be here. If the old buzzard does have a burst of memory that he’s supposed to be flying to Brazil, there has to be two pilots here to actually fly the plane. Unless you’ve been hiding a talent for instantaneous cloning, we need Martin.”
“Hi Mum! Hi Douglas! Are we having a meeting? Is it secret? Where’s Skip? Can’t have a meeting without Skip. Unless it’s secret. Why are you keeping secrets from Skip?”
“Arthur, love of my life, sit down and pretend you’re a rock.”
“But rocks don’t do anything.”
“Precisely. Unless… Arthur, you don’t know where Martin is, do you?”
Watching Arthur think always put Carolyn in mind of a dog trying to decide between the soup bone or the dead squirrel, overwhelmed by the sudden abundance of wealth.
“Well, no. Not today. I know where he was yesterday…”
“He was here yesterday, Arthur.”
“Right, like I said, I know where he was yesterday. He did look a little funny, though. And he was really quiet, too. Remember, Douglas? He didn’t even want to play I Spy and I gave him an easy one since I Spied with my little eye something that started with S. For Skip! And he drank my coffee! Both cups!”
“Now that he mentions it, Martin did seem a bit off yesterday. I mean Martin seems a bit off every day, but he was especially keeping close to vest. Not even my finest japery got a rise out of him, so I presumed he’d gone hard of hearing and missed the nuances of my bon mots. However…”
“So he was having a sulk. That’s not sufficient reason for being late. Filling your mouth with concrete, yes, but tardiness…no. Arthur, go to Martin’s house and see if he is there. Wake him up if he’s asleep, resurrect him if he’s dead, but get him here now.”
“On it, Mum. I don’t suppose I could borrow your car, though? I had a little accident with an ice cream bar. And some finger paint. The passenger’s seat is a bit sticky.”
“Good. That will trap the lazybones if he tries to escape. Now, why are you still here?”
“I’m going… I’m going…”
__________
Arthur wished he could have lived like Skip. Well, not totally like Skip, but it would be fun to live in a big house with lots and lots of people. And new people every few years! What could be more fun than that? And he got to live in an attic! Brilliant! Like having his own clubhouse. He really should talk to Skip about having a password, though. Something like “banana” or “platypus.” Can’t be a proper clubhouse without a password and you’d have to think about who got it, since not everyone could come in or it wouldn’t be a clubhouse. It would just be a househouse and that wasn’t nearly as much fun…
“Can I help you?”
Oh, it happened again. Sometimes Arthur’s brain worked so hard that his body moved on autopilot. At least this time, he hadn’t found himself at the park. In the lake. With a duck under his jacket.
“Hi! I’m Arthur. Is Skip, I mean Martin, at home?”
“Martin? No… well, I don’t think so. He was here last night, but I haven’t seen him this morning. And his van’s not out there, is it? Sorry mate. Can’t help you.”
“Oh. Well, thanks. You don’t know where he might have gone, do you? It’s just… if I don’t come back with him, Mum’s going to get all shouty. And you don’t want to be around Mum when she’s shouty.”
It was doubtful Arthur noticed the student take a cautious step back inside the house.
“Sorry, don’t know where he’s off to. If I see him, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”
Arthur yelled “Ok, thanks! Bye!” through the rapidly closing door, then stood a moment wondering what to do. Mum was going to be ever so mad. Maybe if he brought back pie. Everyone was happier when they had pie.
For the next two hours, Arthur ate pie from every bakery in Fitton. He was very happy with the chocolate custard he finally brought back to the airfield. Carolyn was not.
“Where have you been? I send you to pick up Martin and you come back with pie instead? Nearly three hours later? And why didn’t you answer your phone? I thought you’d been swept up into the black hole that ate my soon-to-be ex-pilot.”
“Well, I knew you’d be mad and I didn’t want you to be mad. So, I wanted to make you not mad, but not talk to you while you were mad cause that makes me a bit nervous and… I may have lost track of time.”
“Arthur, you are my son and I love you dearly, but I could do with a reason right now not to call the orphanage and see if they have room for an additional resident.”
“I tried to pick up Skip, but he wasn’t home. His van was gone and he was gone and… then I went for pie. I’m sorry, Mum, but I thought…”
“And that was your first mistake. I have one pilot who’s decided to shirk his duty and a son who believes my company can thrive so long as we have baked goods in the pilot seat. Now might be a good time to leave me talking to your shadow, Arthur.”
“But my shadow’s sewn to my feet. You remember, Mum. When we watched Peter Pan…”
“Out!”
Arthur scurried out of his mother’s office and decided that it was a very good time to do some cleaning on GERTI. And it gave him something to do while he thought. It wasn’t like Skip not to show up for work. He never missed a flight or a single day on standby. Never. And now, he wasn’t there and wasn’t home or at any of the bakeries in Fitton, because Arthur did look around and check while eating his pies. It wasn’t normal and that worried Arthur. Actually, as Arthur wiped down the equipment in the galley, there were other things that worried him about Skip. Like the fact that he’d lost more weight lately. And that his eyes were sometimes really sad. And all he’d say was that he was feeling under the weather, maybe caught a bit of a cold or something.
Maybe Skip had just taken the day to see a doctor. That would make sense! Going to see the doctor always took a long time with all the waiting and then the trip to get ice cream when it was over. Skip could be back later this afternoon and Mum would be, well not happy, but at least not ready to send Arthur to the orphanage, which would really be bad because he’d probably have to eat gruel and not get telly time, but he might get to share a room and have bunk beds…”
“Arthur! What in god’s name are you doing?”
“Oh, hello Douglas…polishing the metal?”
“With what? Shoe polish?”
“Well, polish is polish, isn’t it? And this was much cheaper and it sort of smells nice.”
“Arthur, not that it affects me in the least, but for your own safety, I would advise that you clean all of that off before Carolyn sees it. She’s in a right mood already because of Martin and you’re head would take up space on her wall as easily as his. Speaking of which, where is he? Weren’t you supposed to get him and deliver him up for sacrifice?”
“Skip wasn’t home. But, I think I figured it out. He’s been sort of odd lately and I suspect he’s at the doctor’s getting a checkup. He’ll probably show up later and everything will be fine.”
“Then why isn’t he answering our calls? If Martin was sick, even your mother wouldn’t deny him the time to visit a physician. She might make him sweep the runway as a penalty, but only after he’d gotten his clean bill of health.”
‘I don’t know. But he might have forgotten to charge it! I do that all the time. Or lost it. I do that all the time, too. Or he might not have paid the bill. Skip does that a lot, but I haven’t. That’s probably because Mum pays the bill, though.”
“And why would Martin not pay his phone bill?”
“Oh… I wasn’t actually supposed to say anything about that. He seemed a bit huffy when I found out and made me promise not to tell. One day, Skip was very angry and had to borrow my phone to make a call and I asked him what was wrong with his and he said some things about phone bills and people who sent them that weren’t very nice. And then he said some things about Mum that weren’t… well, ok they were true, but they weren’t very nice, either. Then he went on about how a man shouldn’t have to choose between petrol and having a phone. And then he got a little confusing talking about clothes from charity shops and eating food from dented cans and I just thought about what I was going to put on my Christmas list this year until he gave me my phone back.”
Douglas felt something oily and sickly-hot curl and settle into his stomach.
“I knew Martin wasn’t exactly flush, but I had no idea he was near to going on the road with his dog and knapsack-on-a-stick.”
“Brilliant! That would explain why he didn’t come in today! And it sounds much more fun than going to the doctor. Good for Skip. I wish he would have told me, though. I would have gone with him. And Snoopadoop could have come along and be puppy pals with Skip’s dog. What’s his name, anyway?”
There were days, few and far between, when Douglas wished he had never stopped drinking. Unsurprisingly, many of those days were filled with Arthur.
“You can ask Martin when he deigns to grace us with his presence. However, on the off chance he hasn’t forsaken his piloting career behind to become Hobo Jack, let us hope he has a very official doctor’s note to present to Carolyn or she’ll be the one putting him out on the streets through a collision between her foot and his arse.”
“And mum wears pointy shoes sometimes, so that’ll really hurt.”
“Indeed.”
__________
3 days later
“Douglas, have you heard anything from Martin?”
Douglas thought about pointing out to Carolyn that she had asked him exactly the same question every morning since Martin’s disappearance, but the worried tone of her voice stopped him. Because he was fighting that worry, too.
“No, and before you ask, yes I did stop at that commune he calls a house and they haven’t heard any news either. I take it the police have no information?”
When Martin failed to appear at the airfield for the second day in a row, they had gone to the police station and filed a report, but neither Carolyn or Douglas was very hopeful there would be much of an effort put towards finding an able-bodied adult male who had few ties to the community and apparently vanished through the use of his own vehicle.
“No, and I have the distinct impression they are getting tired of me calling to ask for updates. What are we going to do? I mean… I’m not just concerned for MJN, even though I’ll have to start looking for a replacement if Martin doesn’t turn up soon, but I’m worried about the boy, too. And this is doing terrible things to Arthur. I’m not sure he’s slept more than a few hours a night since Martin disappeared.”
“He has family, doesn’t he? Did you try…”
“That is not a conversation I care to remember. Martin’s family has neither the knowledge of his whereabouts nor any particular interest in them. Should we… I mean MJN’s accounts are so deeply in the red that Crayola has asked me if they can make a new crayon in that particular shade… but should we offer a reward for information?”
“It’s an idea. Many a lip has been loosened by money; it could persuade someone to tell us what they know about Martin. If anyone does know anything. I don’t want to think it any more than you do, Carolyn, but Martin may simply have buggered off for greener pastures. He was having money troubles and…”
“NO! Skip wouldn’t do that!”
Arthur knew he wasn’t supposed to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, but this was about Skip and he was in trouble so it had to be alright. But how could Douglas even think Skip would just leave them without even saying goodbye?
“Arthur, I know it’s a horrible thought and I really don’t want to believe it, but we have to consider all possibilities.”
“No. Not ever. Skip wouldn’t do that. Not to us. We’re family to him and that’s not what you do to family. Maybe he’s trapped somewhere and can’t get to a phone. Or he’s hurt. Or someone’s hurting him…”
There were too many images filling Arthur’s head and none of them were good. He almost wanted Douglas’s idea to be the right one, because at least that would mean Skip was safe and healthy. But he knew it wasn’t true; he knew deep in his heart that Martin wouldn’t do something like that ever ever ever…
“It’s alright, Arthur. Douglas doesn’t believe Martin abandoned us any more than you do. He’s just laying out all possible scenarios so we make some decisions about what to do. We all want Martin back as soon as possible. Right, Douglas?”
Even without Carolyn’s pointed stare, Douglas had no trouble agreeing with the sentiment. For all their pointed and prickly interactions, Martin was one of the few people left in Douglas’s life that he would call a friend. And he made working for MJN quite a bit more fun than any of the previous pilots Carolyn had hired.
“Absolutely. We don’t want to overlook anything and ignore any means to help find Martin.”
That made sense, even if it made Arthur a little sick to think about it. Something else was making him sick, too. It had been eating at him since he realized that Martin hadn’t just gone to the doctor for a check up. He hadn’t been able to sleep or even eat. And Mum made pancakes yesterday! With berries and everything and Arthur could barely wrestle a few bites down his throat. Douglas was right… they couldn’t ignore any means to help Skip. Even if Skip maybe didn’t want them used.
“Mum? If someone made you promise something…. really, really promise, but you think that breaking the promise might be the right thing to do, should you break the promise or keep your promise not to break the promise and…”
“Arthur! My nerves are already frayed, you idiot child. In less than ten words or not at all, please.”
“I have a super secret emergency number that we can call, but Skip might not like us using it. Damn, that was more than ten words wasn’t it? Let me try again. ‘I have a…”
“YOU HAVE A WHAT?”
There were two rather alarmed faces staring at Arthur and he began to wonder if he should just turn around and hope they didn’t notice him running away. That plan was thwarted when Douglas’s large hands grabbed his arms, while his mother smacked him on the head with a magazine.
“You have an emergency number for Martin, you silly twit, and you didn’t tell us until now? If you weren’t my own blood, Arthur Shappey, I’d give you a trouncing you’d not soon forget. Why Arthur? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Skip said never, ever to use it unless it was the emergenciest of emergencies. Like the Martians landed and tried to make off with the Queen. Or make out with the Queen. I’m not sure which…he was really, really drunk and sort of slurry.”
“Now, Arthur. Give me the number now.”
“It’s on my phone. I stored it just in case…”
Two sets of hands jammed themselves into Arthur’s pockets, which felt sort of weird, especially since Arthur’s phone was in his car. By the time his trousers had nearly been yanked from his body, Arthur had made Douglas and his mother understand the situation and they raced outside to get to his phone.
“Are you sure about this, mum? Skip was terribly serious when he made me promise. I mean, yeah, he was also completely drunk, but he looked sort of worried when he gave me the number. Like something bad might happen because of it.”
“Something bad has happened, Arthur, and we need to use every resource we have to try and fix this. Now, give me the phone…”
“Sorry, mum. That was the other part of the promise. No one else can see the number. Just me.”
“Dear lord, Martin must have been drunk if he entrusted his welfare solely to Arthur.”
“Just do it, you useless thing! Make the call!”
“Text.”
“Pardon?”
“You mean make the text. It’s a text number. And a word. A code word. Hah! I was thinking the other day that Skip needed a secret password for his clubhouse, well, his attic… but it’s like a clubhouse since you have to go up those rickety stairs and it’s all small and sort of damp…”
“By all that is holy, Arthur, if you don’t use that phone right now…”
“Alright, alright….there. It’s done.”
“And now what?”
“Dunno, Skip didn’t say.”
__________
“Sir? There’s been a message for you.”
“Message?”
“Yes sir. A text. Just one word.”
“Oh… I see. Very well, I will need the coordinates for the phone from which the text was sent immediately. And, if you would be so kind, a little of the brandy the French ambassador left last week.”
“I take it your brother will be calling soon.”
“And it undoubtedly will be as pleasant as always.”