Standing By

by Diane Coffin

CABIN PRESSURE - Douglas is having a bad day.

Title: Standing By

Author: Diane

Summary: Douglas is having a bad day.

Rating: K+ – gen, friendship, humour, angst

Notes: With thanks to my sister, for encouragement, beta, and great ideas.

Standing By

[Location: Portacabin]

Douglas:

'Keep your friends close, and your anemones closer.'

Martin:

Augh, Douglas, I said slow down! Give me a chance.

Douglas:

[coldly] 'Show me the bunny.'

'May the horse be with you.'

'You're gonna need a bigger goat.'

Martin:

[frustrated growl]

[The portacabin door opens and closes.]

Douglas:

This was your idea, Martin. It's not my fault if you can't keep up. 'Frankly, my dear, I don't give a lamb.'

Martin:

Ah…um... 'You can't handle the… moose'? Good morning, Arthur.

Douglas:

[scornfully] Moose.

Arthur:

Morning, chaps! Onto a game already?

Douglas:

Yes, regrettably, we are. It's 'Famous Movie Quotes with Animals Added In.'

Arthur:

Brilliant!

Douglas:

It is not brilliant. It's Martin's ridiculous game, yet he's dreadful at it. 'Here's lookin' at you, squid.'

Martin:

I am not dreadful. 'Houston, we have a… dolphin.'

Douglas:

[disgusted noise]

Arthur:

Good one, Skip!

Douglas:

Abysmal one, Skip. 'We don't need no stinking badgers.' There. We're done. You're an idiot. I've won.

Martin:

…um… 'You had me at… buffalo'? 'I'll be yak'?

Douglas:

Martin, stop embarrassing yourself. Arthur, don't start.

Martin:

Wait, wait! [proudly] 'I'm gonna make him an otter he can't refuse!"

Arthur:

Ooh, I've got one! 'I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!'

Martin:

You're supposed to add in the animal, Arthur.

Arthur:

'… and your little…frog, too?' Oh! 'Go ahead, snake my day'!

[The portacabin door opens and closes.]

Douglas:

This game is over. Shut up, the both of you. Carolyn, you're late. This has already been an excruciatingly tedious day, and it's only 9:15. I loathe stand-by,

which you very well know, and I resent arriving on time, only to see you wander in at your leisure. Where the hell have you been.

Carolyn:

[cheerily] And a good morning to you, too, insubordinate underling! You're fired.

Arthur:

[shocked] Mum! No!

Carolyn:

No? All right, my love. Douglas, you're un-fired.

Douglas:

Goody.

Carolyn:

Hm. I dislike like your tone. You are re-fired.

Arthur:

Mum!

Martin:

Douglas is being horrid today, Carolyn. Just ignore him.

Douglas:

Yes, ignore me. Martin, atypically, is right. I am in a foul mood. [Douglas's chair scrapes.] I'm in a wretched, dangerous mood, in fact,

and I am going to waste this useless day in Gerti. Don't join me, any of you.

[The portacabin door opens and slams closed.]

Arthur:

…Gosh.

Carolyn:

Good heavens. When did Douglas turn into a teenaged girl? Martin, what did you do to him?

Martin:

I didn't do anything! He was like that when I found him.

Arthur:

Do you think he needs some tea? I could take him some tea.

Martin:

I don't think he'd drink it; he's already had half a pot of coffee, at least. He was here when I got in, and he

was so nasty and snappish, I suggested a word game to cheer him. It just made things worse.

Carolyn:

I knew you'd made things worse.

Martin:

Not fair! I was only trying to –

Carolyn:

[interrupting] Oh, wait a moment, hold on. Martin. Did you just tell me that Douglas Richardson was the first one in to work today?

Martin:

Yes. I think he came in really early.

Carolyn:

Dear lord. I feel I should stagger about, clutching my breast in astonishment. Arthur, do me a favour.

Arthur:

Yes, mum?

Carolyn:

Look outside and tell me: are there any pigs on the runway, awaiting take-off?

Arthur:

Ummm… no. No pigs.

Carolyn:

Any circling overhead, perhaps?

Arthur:

Nnnnn…nope.

Carolyn:

Oh, well. It was worth checking. It's a rare day indeed.

Martin:

It is rare. I mean, I've seen Douglas bad-tempered before - loads of times - but this is... different, somehow.

[Location: Gerti's flight deck]

[a tentative tap on the flight deck door]

Arthur:

Douglas? Are you in there?

Douglas:

No, Arthur. I'm not.

Arthur:

…I think you are. You're not in the cabin, or the galley, or the loo. I suppose you could be in the hold, but I doubt it.

Douglas:

Maybe you should check.

Arthur:

I could do, but it's really unlikely you're there. It's not a very comfy place.

Douglas:

That's true.

Arthur:

So I think you're in the flight deck.

Douglas:

You're probably right.

Arthur:

Um, I've brought you some tea. May I come in?

Douglas:

I don't want tea, thanks.

Arthur:

Are you sure? I made it the way you like. And I know that sometimes, when one is upset, one finds a cup of tea soothing.

Douglas:

Does one?

Arthur:

Yeah. Often, one finds it's just the ticket.

Douglas:

[grudgingly amused] Come in, Arthur.

[Flight deck door opens]

Arthur:

Hello! There you are! And here's your tea, Douglas, as you like it. Though it's a bit not as hot as it was.

Douglas:

Very kind, thank you.

Arthur:

No problemo. I thought you might be getting bored out here alone. Even though you said you wanted to be alone.

Douglas:

I did say that, yes.

Arthur:

[sitting] Martin said you wouldn't want tea, and mum said you wouldn't want company, and both of them said if I wanted to avoid

getting strangled I'd leave you be. So I sort of… snuck away. I said I'd fetch sandwiches – which I will do! I didn't lie! – and I came out to find you.

Because it's been hours, Douglas! Aren't you lonely? I get quite lonely when I'm alone.

Douglas:

Oh, I don't know. Solitude has its advantages.

Arthur:

Well, I don't know what they are. [thoughfully] Although… when I'm alone, I can sing as much as I want, and no-one minds. That's quite nice.

Douglas:

Mm.

Arthur:

…Douglas? What's wrong? You don't need to tell me. But if you wanted to tell me, you could tell me. Sometimes it's good to tell someone when you're sad.

Douglas:

Who said I'm sad?

Arthur:

No-one! You could be really angry, or just crabby and cross. But… to me, it seems like you're sad.

Douglas:

[silence]

Arthur:

When I'm sad, I usually just talk myself into being happy. But if that doesn't work, I talk to mum, or talk to the dog, or to a friend, and it helps a lot.

Douglas:

Does it.

Arthur:

Yes. Sooo, if you needed to…

Douglas:

I could talk to you.

Arthur:

Right.

Douglas:

Is your dog handy?

Arthur:

Not at the moment, but I could get her. She's quite a good listener sometimes, and—

Douglas:

I'm kidding, Arthur. I don't want to talk to your dog.

Arthur:

Oh. Okay. She's pretty great, though.

Douglas:

I'm sure she is. Tell me, Arthur, out of curiosity: when you go to your mother, for help or – God help you – for cheering up,

does Carolyn manage the task? Does she make you feel better?

Arthur:

Yeah! Mum's the best! I mean… maybe she likes to tease me sometimes, and maybe she gets a bit frustrated

with me when I'm being brainless, or witless, or a dolt, or a clot, or—

Douglas:

Arthur.

Arthur:

—or …yeah. But the thing is, when I really need mum to cheer me, she does. She's quite sweet.

Douglas:

Good lord, really?

Arthur:

Absolutely! That's just the way mums are. Isn't your mum sweet?

Douglas:

She was, rather, yes.

Arthur:

Oh, she's… oh. I'm sorry, Douglas.

Douglas:

No, no, it's fine, it was a long time ago. And dad's always been around.

Arthur:

Dad. Oh. Right. Is your dad… nice?

Douglas:

He's a marvelous old chap, actually. He won't last much longer, though, and he knows it. He's quite philosophical

about the whole thing. More sanguine about it than I am, certainly.

Arthur:

What's sanguine?

Douglas:

Mmm…cheerful.

Arthur:

Oh. Cheerful's good.

Douglas:

…Yes.

Arthur:

Douglas, is that… is that why you're sad today? Because your dad is…?

Douglas:

Partly. Partly that, and… [he sighs] I spoke with my daughter on the phone last night, explaining to her

that her grandad's taken a turn and may not be kicking about much longer.

Arthur:

[sad sound]

Douglas:

And I suppose I was reminiscing a bit, telling her stories about when he was younger, and when I was growing up. Funny stories, good stories.

Arthur:

Aw, that's lovely.

Douglas:

And Gemma told me how lucky I was to have a father like that. She said she would love to have such a good dad.

Arthur:

…oh.

Douglas:

She didn't intend to be hurtful. She's young; she thought she was being kind. But it made me… think.

Arthur:

Oh, dear. That can be difficult.

Douglas:

Master Shappey, you speak the truth. Thinking can be difficult.

Arthur:

I expect you were thinking about your dad… and what sort of a dad he is… and what sort of a dad you are, or think you are… and what sort of a dad your daughter thinks—

Douglas:

Yes, yes, hush please. I don't need it spelled out for me.

Arthur:

Well, hooray, because I'm not a good speller.

Douglas:

No, but you're a bit more perceptive today than I'm comfortable with.

Arthur:

[surprised] Am I?

Douglas:

Alarmingly, yes.

Arthur:

[with awe] Perceptive. Gosh.

Douglas:

Gosh is right.

Arthur:

Well, what I percept, Douglas, is that you're sitting alone in Gerti thinking you're a bad dad. And you're not a bad dad. You're a brilliant dad!

Douglas:

[bitterly] Brilliant, Arthur? Really? Is it brilliant to celebrate most of my child's milestones via the bloody telephone? Is it brilliant to be shocked

each time I see her, almost frightened at how she's grown? To feel at a loss each time she speaks?

Arthur:

But you're always—

Douglas:

Stop it. I am brilliant at many, many things, Arthur, but, as it turns out, being a father is not one of them.

Arthur:

Don't say that! Yes, you are!

Douglas:

I am not. I have managed to fool myself about that fact for nearly ten years, but I'm facing the truth now, and the brutal truth is that—

Arthur:

[fiercely] – that you're great.

Douglas:

[exasperated] Arthur, for god's sake! I appreciate your dog-like tenacity and your relentless need to cheer me, but really.

What the devil do you know about being a father? Do you even know how babies are made?

Arthur:

I do know that, and it's got nothing to do with being a good dad! And yeah, maybe I'm not a father, but I am a son, and I know a bad dad when I see one.

…I mean, I know what good dads aren't like, and I… [flustered] You're a great dad, Douglas! And that's not just me being sanguine!

Douglas:

…Sanguine.

Arthur:

Cheerful! That's not just me being cheerful. [sighs, sounding a bit low-spirited now] Douglas, you love Gemma, right?

Douglas:

Of course I do. Desperately.

Arthur:

And… do you like her?

Douglas:

…Ah. Yes, Arthur, I do.

Arthur:

Well, there you are, then. You're brilliant. And not every dad is.

Douglas:

[gently] That's true, isn't it.

Arthur:

Yeah, it's true. I mean… I've seen you with your daughter, and I've heard you talk on the phone, and you're kind and funny and nice, and you like her.

I would love to have… I just wish that… Douglas, she's really lucky, and you're really lucky, so don't tell me you're not a good dad, because you are.

Douglas:

…Thank you, Arthur. [musingly] Do you know, you were right?

Arthur:

[still a little glum] Right about what?

Douglas:

Sometimes one finds a cup of tea to be quite soothing. Just the ticket, in fact. Shall I make you a cup of tea, Arthur?

Arthur:

What, really?

Douglas:

It would be my pleasure.

[sound of Gerti's fuselage door opening]

Carolyn's voice, off-stage:

Oh god, he did come in here.

Martin's voice, off-stage:

Is he still alive?

Carolyn's voice, off-stage:

Arthur?

Douglas:

[calls out] Your son is with me.

Carolyn:

That's what I was afraid of. Ah, there you both are. Arthur, are you un-strangled?

Arthur:

I'm fine, mum.

Douglas:

He's right as rain, Carolyn, and completely un-strangled. What are you doing here?

Carolyn:

Searching for my foolish child. Who said he was fetching sandwiches and instead came to beard the lion in his den.

Arthur:

I didn't lie, mum. I'll fetch sandwiches.

Douglas:

Also, he didn't beard me, he brought me tea. Tea and sympathy. And a great deal of wisdom.

Martin:

Douglas, I know you're in a foul mood, but there's no need to make fun of poor old Arthur.

Douglas:

I'm not making fun. Arthur was wise and insightful, and when he returns with our sandwiches, I shall

make him a cup of tea with milk and four sugars, just the way he likes.

Martin:

[faintly] Good lord.

Arthur:

[brightening a little] Gosh, thanks, Douglas. I'll be off then. Back in a tick. [Arthur leaves]

Carolyn:

[thoughtfully] Do you know, I rather think I'll join him.

Douglas:

Please do, Carolyn. And, forgive me, but if I may suggest: be his mum. He told me that his mum is quite sweet.

Carolyn:

[appalled] Did he? Egad. You didn't believe him, did you?

Douglas:

I'm afraid I did. As you know, Arthur never lies.

Carolyn:

[muttering as she leaves] God. "Quite sweet." Positively slanderous. [Carolyn's voice, offstage] Arthur, darling, wait for mummy.

[The fuselage door opens and closes.]

Martin:

So.

Douglas:

So.

Martin:

Feeling a bit better, then?

Douglas:

As it happens, I am. Go ahead, have a seat, Martin. I won't bite. [Martin sits] Now. Famous movie titles… with food added in.

Martin:

Interesting.

Douglas:

For instance… Last Mango in Paris.

Martin:

Ha ha! Umm….

Douglas:

Prawn with the Wind.

Martin:

Yes! Ummm…

Douglas:

Night of the Living Bread. Chime in, Martin.

Martin:

Uhhh… Harry Potter and… the Philosopher's Scone?

Douglas:

Not bad.

Martin:

Ummm, My Fair Gravy? Forrest Gumbo!

Douglas:

Ooh… iffy. Let's see… The Flan Who Came to Dinner.

Martin:

Aha. Jurassic Pork. Oh! The Remains of the Souffle!

[they both laugh]

Douglas:

[chuckling] Passable. Though barely.

Martin:

The Unbearable Lightness of Beans! Citizen Grain!

Douglas:

[teasing] Slow down, Captain, please. Give me a chance.

Martin:

[laughs]

Douglas:

Um, Martin. Now that you're here—

Martin:

[abruptly] I wanted to come earlier.

Douglas:

What?

Martin:

Earlier today, I wanted to come find you. Arthur beat me to it, but... I wanted to give you some time, and I thought you needed space, but I did plan

to check on you. I wanted to be a friend. If, if you needed one. And if you needed one, I wanted to… be that. So I was going to come out here and—

Douglas:

It's fine, Martin, thank you. That's kind.

Martin:

And brave.

Douglas:

Brave?

Martin:

You were in a pretty vicious mood.

Douglas:

True. It was both kind and brave of you to want to find me.

Martin:

Thanks. Sorry, I interrupted you, didn't I. You were saying?

Douglas:

You did interrupt, yes. [bluntly, without sentiment] What I was going to say, Martin, is that you will likely be flying solo for a while.

My father's quite unwell and will pass soon, and I'll need to manage a variety of things when that happens. I've not yet told Carolyn, but I will require

a leave of absence at some point, probably on short notice. So it'll be quick hops for you, I'm afraid, for a week or two, but you'll manage.

Boring without me, of course, but short trips can be—

Martin:

[interrupting] Douglas.

Douglas:

What?

Martin:

I'm sorry. I am so sorry about your father. You have my sympathy.

Douglas:

…Thank you.

Martin:

It's difficult, losing a parent. [tentatively] Do you… do you get on well? You and your dad?

Douglas:

We do, yes. He's a charming old sod. Still sharp, too, even at his age. Clever. Witty.

Martin:

Ha. Sounds like you.

Douglas:

[mock affront] Martin, please. I am not an "old sod". Nor "sharp for my age".

Martin:

Oh, you know what I mean. Charming, smart, clever, witty. Was he a pilot, too?

Douglas:

Goodness, you flatter me. And no, as it happens, he wasn't a pilot. He was an academic. But he always fancied flying. He envies me, I think.

Martin:

Does he?

Douglas:

Oh, I don't know. I suspect so. He seems to think it's romantic, jetting about the world. But then, he is a romantic sort. Always has been.

Martin:

[touched by the description] He sounds a lovely chap, Douglas. I think I'd like to meet him.

Douglas:

Well, I doubt you'll get the chance. But if I were to introduce you, Martin, you'd need to know… he thinks I'm a captain.

[They both burst into laughter. Douglas's laugh changes as he begins to fight tears.]

Douglas:

[a bit helplessly] He just assumes! What can I do?

Martin:

Nothing! Nothing at all, obviously! [his laughter fades, with a sigh] Ahh, Douglas. I'm glad he thinks that. Let him think that.

Douglas:

[calming himself] I do. God help me, I will.

Martin:

Good. He's proud of you, isn't he.

Douglas:

Yes. He is. Ridiculous old man.

Martin:

Good. He should be proud. Keep that, keep it with you. It's worth… so much.

Douglas:

Martin…

Martin:

My dad loved me, but I didn't make him proud. If I had to choose one or the other, I suppose I'd choose love,

but pride…his pride… I'll always wish… Well. Anyway.

Douglas:

Martin –

Martin:

Douglas, will you take my advice?

Douglas:

Don't I always?

Martin:

No. You never take my advice.

Douglas:

Oh, that's right. To be fair, I never ask your advice.

Martin:

True. But I'm going to give you some advice right now, advice from a son who's lost his father. Take your leave. Take a leave of absence

and be with him now, don't wait until the very end. Don't wait until it's too late.

Douglas:

I—

Martin:

I mean it! Take your leave! Be with your dad. It's really important. Carolyn will understand, and if she doesn't… well, she'll understand, I know she will.

And don't worry, I've got Gerti, we'll be fine doing hops. I'll cancel any van jobs to cover MJN, for as long as you need me to, however long,

and you can be with your dad, and you won't have to think about—

Douglas:

Martin.

Martin:

Hello?

Douglas:

Breathe.

Martin:

Oh. Okay.

Douglas:

Now, listen. I will take your advice. And I'm going to accept your generosity.

Martin:

That's good! I'm glad! Because—

Douglas:

I'm not finished. I still need to say thank you. Thank you, Captain.

Martin:

…You're welcome.

Douglas:

[thoughtfully] Do you know… Your father, if he were at all intelligent, would be very proud of you.

Martin:

Oh, please. I barely scrape by.

Douglas:

Martin. Your father, if he were intelligent at all, would be extremely proud of the man you've become.

Martin:

[a pause; when he speaks, his voice is rough] Yes, well. Arthur's probably back with the sandwiches. I'll go – I'll go check on that. I'll call you if – I'll go see if he's back.

[Martin leaves the flight deck. The fuselage door opens.]

Carolyn's voice, off-stage:

Martin! The very man. File the flight plan, please, we've gotten the call. Martin? Are you all right?

Martin's voice, off-stage:

[faintly] I'm fine. I'm on it.

[The fuselage door closes.]

Carolyn:

[entering the flight deck] My, you have been busy, haven't you? But bestir yourself now, Douglas. No more making Arthur gloomy,

no more making Martin cry. Sorry to spoil your fun. We take off in an hour.

Douglas:

And the fine men of MJN shall be ready to fly.

Carolyn:

Lovely. But see here, before we go – Arthur tells me that your father is ill, and that you need to spend some time with him, and with your daughter.

Do that, won't you? When we return from Frankfurt, you'll take leave. I don't wish to see your face for at least a week.

Douglas:

Oh, but, Carolyn. You love my face.

Carolyn:

Nonsense. I find it vaguely revolting. Though I suppose there's something to be said for your eyes.

Douglas:

Sonnets have been written about my eyes.

Carolyn:

Really, Douglas? I didn't know you were a poet. Now, seriously: go, go. Load-sheet, please. Snap to.

Douglas:

Snapping to, madam, as you wish. [he rises]

Carolyn:

[quietly] …At least a week, Douglas. Talk to me after that, and we'll discuss what needs done.

Douglas:

[genuinely moved] Carolyn, thank you. That's… gracious. You're very kind.

Carolyn:

I am nothing of the sort. Now go away and do your job. You've been draped here tragically

like a moody pre-teen for far too long. Time to grow up, Mr. Richardson.

Douglas:

[sighing] Must I? I suppose you're right.

Carolyn:

Of course I am. I'm always right. Do remember that, won't you?

Douglas:

Yes, ma'am. I believe I will.

~The End~