Martin had no reason to stay awake this year.
If anything, he had less of an incentive. Carolyn had booked a hefty flight to Chicago for the following morning and he needed all the rest he could get. The comunal coffee jar in the kitchen was running low, and Arthur's bog-standard stuff could hardly keep him going.
Usually he hated the New Year. All the remenants from fireworks usually brought out a smoky sky, bad for flying in. Exactly a year ago, they had been in New York. Celebrating didn't feel right, timezones turning the crew into sleep-deprived zombies. Drunkards wandered the streets, trying to stay upright.
The students were having a party downstairs. Loud music blared from every avalible speaker and the laughs of carefree young people travelled up the stairs. David, the musician that slept in the room below the attic, had clearly wooed a young lady. He could hear the moaning and felt a little perverse. Even if he had tried, he'd never have slept through such a racket. And didn't that make him feel old.
Even if his youth, Martin wasn't really one for parties. He prefered the quiet of solitude. Curling up with a good book and a glass of wine was his idea of entertainment (well, if there was no Poirot on; he was a sucker for murder mysteries).
Still, he made it to the midnight hour. Cuddled up in his pyjamas, he watched the clock with unhealthy eagerness. His eyes were itching with tiredness and he rubbed them gently. Greedily, he sipped the last droplets of his bottled water. It was from duty-free and meant he couldn't park for a week, so he had to make it last. But the liquid ran dry and he sighed.
Only five more minutes to go. He thought. Come on, you can do it. Sheer pig-headed determination had got you too far to bail out now.
With a yawn, the pilot's mind drifted to his friends. Carolyn mentioned having a night away with Herc. Whether this included Arthur or not was unclear. He hoped so; nobody should be alone at New Year. Though Snoopadoop would provide Arthur with enough entertainment as he listened to the Chimes of Big Ben.
Martin's heart gave a funny clench when he though of Douglas. Was he alone, out in the cold? It was unlikely that Jenny could visit at such short notice, though he had heard Douglas trying. Maybe that's why he had been so dejected today. Martin wasn't a parent, so he could only imagine the pain of not seeing your child.
A drunken roar from below reminded the skipper of something else. Would Douglas break his sober streak? Martin hoped not; his earlier efforts had been outstanding. But on a night like this, with everyone else joyful, it was easy to slip into bad habits. The Captain was no different. He'd finished his first cigarette in seven months and the smoke mingled with the fireworky air reminded him of the guilt pleasure.
Smirking, Martin snatched up his phone. Even if Douglas was getting pissed, he'd still appreciate a quick text. He only hoped he had enough credit left.
A New Year's resolution is something that goes in one year and out the other. Have a lovely one Douglas. See you tomorrow. X
Martin stared at the misprinted X and shrugged, a small smile forming across his face as the churchbells rang and the singing started. His thumb pressed down, whizzing the message miles away. Before shutting the window, he blew a little kiss to the outside air, hoping it would follow the text.
He might regret it later but it wasn't New Year without regrets.