Portakabin, Fitton airfield.
CAROLYN: Good morning all, is everyone fit and well for our Valentine's weekend flight?
MARTIN: Yes. Edinburgh, drop them off today, come back, returning on Saturday to pick them up.
DOUGLAS: Replete with love and personalised kilted teddy bears.
CAROLYN: Well... not quite. Change of plan. The original group booking fell through.
DOUGLAS: What, a crack in the floorboards?
CAROLYN: As happens so often in life and love, they got a better offer. But never fear, crew of mine, for I have secured us an alternative booking with another group of eager travellers.
DOUGLAS: Right...
CAROLYN: Yes, it's Valentine's Day on Friday and we are booked on another special trip in honour of it. Yes drivers, we are going to... Sperlonga.
DOUGLAS: Sperlonga. Remind me, Carolyn, which part of Edinburgh is that in? Just up from Princes Street, or is it perhaps nestling behind the castle?
CAROLYN: No Douglas. Sperlonga is in Italy. On the coast. It is where the Romans go on holiday.
MARTIN: What, in their togas?
CAROLYN: In their thousands. It is a small town on the western side of the Italian boot.
MARTIN: That doesn't sound so bad.
DOUGLAS: No...but it doesn't ring any bells. What's the catch?
CAROLYN: Catch? Why should there be a catch?
DOUGLAS: Because you seem unusually keen to sell it to us, and it's Valentine's Day and forgive me, but you do not strike me as the type who leaves a trail of rose petals through the house for their beloved to follow into a candle filled bower.
CAROLYN: I abhor Valentine's Day as well you know. I have to fend Herc off with a chair.
MARTIN: Then what - hold on. Does Sperlonga have an airport?
CAROLYN: Yes... in a way.
DOUGLAS: What way?
CAROLYN: It has Rome.
MARTIN: Oh Carolyn no. Not a coach transfer.
CAROLYN: It's only a little one. just a teensy trip of...about a hundred miles.
MARTIN: What? No. Carolyn, please.
DOUGLAS: We're not a bus service, Carolyn. I absolutely refuse to tarnish these hands on the wheel of some ramshackle old Italian jalopy because you've promised the customer that airport transfer is included.
CAROLYN: Well that's fine, because you won't have to. Martin will do it.
MARTIN: Me? Why me?
CAROLYN: You have a licence to drive passenger vehicles and you are a professional driver, I believe, and so it will be your pleasure and your privilege to drive a coachload of punters from Rome Fiumicino Airport to the beautiful seaside resort of Sperlonga, while the rest of us brush up on our Italian and anticipate a very pleasant two days off in the February sunshine.
MARTIN: But I was hoping to meet up with Theresa this weekend...
CAROLYN: Ah, the slings and arrows of outrageous love. If you're very good I will let you ring her from the hotel.
DOUGLAS: Oh. So there is a hotel. You haven't got us camping.
ARTHUR: I love camping.
MARTIN: You love everything.
ARTHUR: I do, don't I.
MARTIN: Right, I'll file the new flight plan then. One weekend of solitary misery in Sperlonga, coming up.
CAROLYN: Thank you, Martin. I will see you all anon.
(door slam)
MARTIN: It's all right for the rest of you. I've got a girlfriend!
DOUGLAS: Ah, yes, smug old us, revelling in our single states, alone each night in our charmless hovels untouched by the hand of love. God, we've got it easy, unlike you poor bastards dating princesses.
MARTIN: Well, I'm supposed to spend Valentines day with her!
ARTHUR: Don't worry skip. Romantic weekends are overrated. It's just champagne, chocolates, dreamy hours under the sheets and sunlit mornings in each other's arms. Honestly. It's pretty dull after the first few times.
MARTIN: Hah!
DOUGLAS: Arthur, in spite of myself I am intrigued. How did you spend Valentines day last year?
ARTHUR: Oh, it was pretty standard. I had the whole, breakfast brought to me in bed thing, which was pretty good actually, but then Bunty told me she was calling it off, but luckily her best friend Fee came round to cheer me up and insisted on taking me out on her motor launch along the Thames for the rest of the day, going under all the bridges. So then I was going out with Fee and we had truffles and champers at the top of the Post Office Tower and the Red Arrows did a fly past and, oh, you know. But really, skip, the best bit was the motor launch and you don't need to wait for Valentine's day for that.
DOUGLAS: Thank you. Arthur. Another startling and disturbing insight into the mystery that is your love life.
MARTIN: Hah.
DOUGLAS: Alas, I fear your attempt at cheering up our esteemed captain may not have worked. Perhaps some coffee?
ARTHUR: Right ho.
xxxx
Gertie, flight deck. Martin whistling whilst flipping switches.
ARTHUR: Coffee, skip.
MARTIN: Thank you Arthur. (humming.)
ARTHUR: You're looking cheerier today, skip.
DOUGLAS: Yes...you've perked up.
MARTIN: Yes, well, got to make the best of it. Can't cry over spilt milk. Mustn't grumble.
DOUGLAS: Good grief you're a veritable smorgasbord of cheery truisms. What happened, did you swap heads with Arthur?
MARTIN: No no, but there's no point moaning about something I can't change, is there?
DOUGLAS: On the contrary. Those are the very things you should be moaning about. The things you can change aren't worth your time of day because frankly if you can change them, why haven't you? Ah - I think I see.. . You've done something haven't you?
MARTIN: (bursting with excitement.) Yes! You know the hotel where we're all staying?
ARTHUR: Passengers in the nice bit, us at the back overlooking the bins?
DOUGLAS: Our usual billet.
MARTIN: Yes, well, I've organised Theresa to come and stay there too - incognito, of course, wouldn't do for the princess of Lichtenstein to be seen booking into the worst hotel in Sperlonga - and I've rung ahead and got the hotel to fill our room with flowers and chocolates and champagne on ice and, a musical band to serenade her on the balcony and, oh all those things you talked about, Arthur.
ARTHUR: Wow.
MARTIN: Yes, it's going to be great!
ARTHUR: I mean, double wow, skip. I bet even she won't have seen a motor boat in a hotel room before.
DOUGLAS: Yes... Well done, Martin, sounds like you have actually salvaged your romantic weekend after all.
MARTIN: Yes. Sorry Douglas. I know you're on your own. We'll try not to be too... lovey dovey.
DOUGLAS: Don't put yourself out on my account. Remember I am a mighty sky god and the charms of female company are never far from me, should I want them. Which I don't.
MARTIN: Right. Ok then.
DOUGLAS: Should I wish it, then the fair inhabitants of Sperlonga would be only too pleased to press their amorous attentions upon me. But I dont.
MARTIN: Right. That's good.
(pause.)
MARTIN: We'll probably be out most of the time anyway, you know, sauntering through historic streets hand in hand...you'll hardly know we're there.
DOUGLAS: If I see any kissing there'll be trouble.
xxxxx
Gertie, flight deck. Sounds of glasses clinking and murmur of conversation from the cabin. Flight deck door closes.
MARTIN: That's odd.
DOUGLAS: What's odd? Did someone mistake you for a bellboy again?
MARTIN: I just happened to be in the lift holding a luggage trolley!
DOUGLAS: That woman was most grateful that you carried all her bags to her room though.
MARTIN: She didn't give me a tip. But that's not it. Douglas, none of the passengers are talking to each other.
DOUGLAS: What, lovers spats already? We're barely out of UK airspace. Anyway, they sounded quite lively.
MARTIN: Yes... but they're not, they're not in couples. I don't think there's a single couple on board.
DOUGLAS: Well, a single couple would be a bit of a contradiction in terms.
MARTIN: No, I mean...this is the weirdest romantic flight I've ever been on. Go and see.
(Later.)
DOUGLAS: I see what you mean. Amiable enough but definitely not paramours. Well. At least we won't have to watch them canoodling all weekend. Unless...no.
MARTIN: Oh god. What?
DOUGLAS: Cabin crew, can you come to the flight deck please. Not you, Arthur. Carolyn.
CAROLYN: Yes, yes, what is it, I am in the middle of caring for my guests.
DOUGLAS: Your guests? Are these the same people you usually refer to as nuisances?
CAROLYN: Certainly not. This is a discerning and select group of travellers.
DOUGLAS: How select, Carolyn? What kind of Valentine trip is this?
CAROLYN: Well. You know how miserable it is to spend Valentine's Day all alone without a soul in the world to care for you?
DOUGLAS:(firmly) No.
MARTIN: (smugly) No.
CAROLYN: Well, this group want none of it. They are single and happy and they have engaged our services as an antidote to the sickeningly commercialised exhibition which is the modern day celebration of love. They want out of the whole shebang.
DOUGLAS: In sharp contrast therefore to myself, who -
CAROLYN: Thank you, Douglas, keep your smutty comments to yourself. We, therefore, will be making no mention of or reference to Valentines day or taking any part therein. is that clear?
MARTIN: Um. Yes.
CAROLYN: There are to be no flowers, no serenades, no anything to remind them that this is a day for lovers. Understood?
DOUGLAS: Absolutely.
CAROLYN: If they so much as see a couple of teenagers holding hands they're going to want their money back, so no chatting up the local wildlife. Martin, I know I don't have to worry about you because you're -
MARTIN: -Attached.
CAROLYN: -Hopeless. But Douglas, stay away from the bars and on no account finagle any unlucky ladies into a liaison. Got it?
DOUGLAS: I can assure you that I have even less interest in romance than the people who are in that cabin.
CAROLYN: Marvellous. Now, I must get back to my serving of non champagne to my non romantics while not alerting them to the stunning views over the alps.
(Door slam.)
DOUGLAS: So... you'll be mostly in your room this weekend?