Arthur was cooking. Well, Arthur was supposed to be cooking. Really he was congealing food while concentrating on his Rubx cube. 'Red to that side, green along, red back...' he was muttering to himself when the familiar BEEP BEEP of the onboard phone went off. 'Hi Mum', he stuck the phone between his shoulder and his ear while he continued to turn the sides of the cube.
'Arthur?' her tone was dangerous.
'Uhuh,' he wasn't concentrating. He nearly had all the reds, nearly...nearly.
'Where is Mr Grey's supper?' Arthur's silence spoke volumes. 'Idiot boy, how long has this one been resting.'
'About 10 minutes,' Arthur mumbled, reluctantly putting down his toy and rushing to the microwave.
'Well, hurry up. Honestly, you are such a child! Heat it for two more minutes and serve. And prey you don't poison him. God, your cooking has a licence to kill, honestly!'
She clicked the phone back into place and Arthur could hear her speaking platitudes to Mr Grey in the cabin. Arthur carefully lifted the pie out of the microwave using the fire gloves and tipped it onto a plate. It really didn't look like much even he would admit. If only Mum would let him cook his own food. Honestly, he knew his 'peanut seafood surprise' had been a mistake and he admitted that. But, really his green platter had been rather successful.
Sighing he passed through the curtain to deliver the tray to Mr Grey. The big man nodded thanks as Arthur put the food down in front of him.
'Pie' said Arthur proudly. The spy nodded. 'Cooked Pie,' said Arthur again. Mr Grey didn't look up. 'Cooked it myself.' Still no response. Arthur folded his tall form into a seat across the aisle and took out the cube again.
'You don't say much. I mean, I know some people are quiet but you hardly say anything. Surely you have to be good at talking to be a spy, especially for negotiating. Yeah, Mum told me what you are doing in...Where ever we are going. It's brilliant. Are you really going to free those people? WOW'
Mr Grey finally looked up.' Arthur? That is your name?' Arthur nodded. 'Well Arthur, do you know anything about spying? '
'I've watched all the James Bond films. Twice. And watched all nine series of Spooks,' Said Arthur proudly.
'Boy, do you know anything about REAL spying?' he asked a vein pulsing in his temple. 'Sorry, but everyone assumes that it's all fast cars, and gadgets and killing people. But here I am on a tiny aeroplane on the way to god knows where to negotiate with people in a language I don't speak...'
Arthur chipped in then, 'Oh I find miming generally works.'
Suddenly, Mr Grey was laughing. A big, kind laugh. His face softened and he smiled at Arthur. 'I like you boy,' he sighed when he finally stopped. There was a pause as he placed his napkin carefully across his lap, and then 'So this is your job, eh? Looking after grumpy middle aged men like me.'
Arthur looked up proudly, 'Yep, brilliant isn't it!'
Mr Grey studied the boy and could tell that he was being deadly serious. 'But what do you want to do later on?'
'Later...well this!'
'Forever? That other woman, she is your mother. You really want to work with your Mother for your whole life?'
Arthur was genuinely confused by the question. 'Well, yes.'
'But, don't you want a proper job,' Mr Grey, on a roll, failed to see notice the flash of hurt cross Arthur's face, 'that utilises your skills rather more.'
Arthur went still for a moment and then said quietly, after a lot of thought, 'well, I guess my main skills are being nice to people, friendliness and hovering, so I can't think of a better job really.' And that was true. Arthur had tried some other jobs before he started working full time for his Mother but none of them had gone very well. The job at the library had been a particular disaster. But then Carolyn had won GERTI in the divorce and offered Arthur the Steward Job, and here he was eight years later and happier than he could possibly imagine. It had never occurred to him that he would have to change job at any point.
'She pay you much, your Mum?'
'Nooo. Nothing! I don't need it though. She pays my rent and food. Well, I mean, I live with her but not in a weird way. So no, no pay.' Arthur realised that Mr Grey was looking at him as though he was totally mad.
'My boy, you need to get yourself a job.' The pair sunk into silence, broken only by the clack of Arthur slotting the sides round his cube.
'Golf Tango India, Welcome to Abidjan. Please hold current track and head for runway 4 Beta over.'
'Rodger that, Abidjan, 4 Beta. Thank you Tower.' Martin swapped comms systems.' Cabin Crew prepare for landing.'
Martin flicked the plane into landing mode and settled back in his seat. The rest of the flight had passed uneventfully enough though the uneasy silence had persisted between the two pilots. Martin had never seen Douglas like this. He had barely thought the older man capable of emotion but, here he was, slightly crumpled. It made Martin very uneasy.
'Wheels down?' He checked with the First Officer.
'Wheels down.' Douglas confirmed. 'Steady angle and sitting pretty.' Martin flew them down into Abidjan airport rather well he thought. Always nervous of landings he probably hit the landing brake a little too hard but other than that, it went without a hitch. The airport was large, made for tourists coming in to the country for beaches and sun. They pulled the plane into the parking bay and Douglas spoke over the Coms.
'Mr Grey, welcome to Abidjan. We do hope you had a pleasant flight.'
Mr Grey did not look as though he had enjoyed a pleasant flight. He was slightly pale and Arthur thought he might be sick.
'You okay Mr Grey?' Arthur asked kindly.
'Yes, yes fine. Just not very good at flying.'
'Neither is our Captain,' muttered Carolyn as she entered the cabin and then louder, 'So Mr Grey what can we do to assist?'
The two pilots entered behind her, 'Car is on its way Sir' said Martin removing his hat.
'Good. Good.' Mr Grey cleared his throat and moved clearly into 'business' mode. 'So, as you know, I need to go and collect our delegate and bring him back here to make the transaction. Here', he held up a tough looking sliver suitcase, 'is the negotiation money which can, for laws beyond your understanding, not leave this plane until in the hands of their Government. So, I will be back soon and we will use this plane as 'British soil'.' Putting quotation marks around the last words, he passed the efficient looking suitcase to Arthur, who looked overjoyed to be involved.
'But we didn't bring any earth!' Cried Arthur concerned.
Carolyn rounded on her son. 'Arthur, just go and put that somewhere safe and desist trying to be helpful!'
'Sorry Mum,' Arthur had seen enough examples of his mother being angry to know that now was the time to just do as he was told.
There was a beep of a car horn from outside the plane.
'Right, that will be my car. I will be back here at 10.00 hours, please be ready for me and the delegates.' The three remaining MJN staff nodded at Mr Grey who stood and strode importantly from the plane into the African sun.
As the sound of Mr Grey's footsteps faded Arthur re-entered the cabin excitedly. 'Mum, do you think there is a shop in the airport?'
Carolyn sighed and nodded. 'Yes dear, I think there probably is.'
'So, can I borrow £7.50?' He gave his mother his most winning smile.
She sighed again and reached into her handbag. 'You will need to grow up at some point Arthur!' She pulled riffled in her purse and pulled out a handful of coins. 'Anyone got fifty pence?' Douglas provided the extra and the money was passed to Arthur.
Martin, watching the exchange started to ask 'what's that fo...' but was cut off by both Douglas and Carolyn who intoned together;
'Toblerone!'
Arthur pocketed the change and asked 'Do you want one too Martin, Douglas?' The two pilots shook their head as one, but Douglas said 'but we'll come into the airport with you. Should be somewhere we can get a good cup of coffee.'
'I could make you one for free,' Arthur said, looking confused.
'No Arthur, you could make us a cup of coffee.'
With that Douglas turned and headed out of the cabin with Martin and Arthur at his heals. Carolyn, not wanting to be left out, hurried after them, carefully shutting the door of GERTI behind her. The sun beat down on them as they headed down the ramp. It was only eight o clock in the morning but already it was boiling hot and dry. The airport was of a decent size and, by the time they had made their way across the runway into the terminal they were all sweating and red faced.
'Not sure I want a coffee so much as a bucket of ice,' moaned Martin as they finally made it into the air conditioned building. He pulled off his Captain's hat and wiped the sweat from his face. 'There's the crew cafe, Douglas. I might pop to the duty free with Arthur first though.'
'Not getting a Toblerone are you, Martin?' scoffed Douglas. Martin simply gave him a withering look and headed off with the almost bouncing Arthur towards the duty free.
Although it was early, the airport was busy. It was the beginning of the school holiday so it was packed with British families here for the sun and safari. Martin and Arthur weaved their way through the crowds, passed the 'Royal Casino' and into the shop. Arthur had located the Toblerone in about twenty seconds. Martin thought he must have some sort of tracking device or could sniff them out like a blood hound. Arthur was overjoyed to see it was two for the price of one. However, -'but which two?!' The young man was crouched down by the rack his hand outstretched towards the chocolate but frozen. 'I mean, I know I want the white one, because that's the best, but then which other?'
Martin was losing interest, his eye caught by a rack of sunglasses in a different shop opposite. He never had replaced the ones he broke in frustration in Johannesburg. This shop had so many that surely one pair would suit him. He also considered the text he had received the previous afternoon. 'How about Wednesday' it had read. That only gave him a day to prepare. Arthur was still deliberating; Martin could hear him muttering about the pros and cons of each style.
'Arthur, I'm just going to have a look at the sunglasses and do a bit of other shopping, Okay. I will meet you back in the canteen.'
'I'll go ask Mum which she would prefer,' said Arthur getting quickly to his feet. But Martin was gone, heading at some speed towards his new pair of sunglasses.
Jingling the money in his pocket and humming quietly to himself, Arthur headed back to the crew canteen to find his Mother. As he neared the cafe he saw her and Douglas sat in an American Diner style booth. They were deep in conversation, both leaning over the table heads together, and did not see him. Arthur was about to call out and wave, but the familiar drawl of the First Officer and stopped in his tracks.
'Carolyn, this is really not good,' came Douglas' voice above the noise of the cafe. Arthur stood still; his mother still hadn't seen him. Knowing, that he shouldn't, he sunk down into a crouch, below the level of the booth seats and sidled closer.
'Yes, thank you Sherlock, I know that!' His mother sounded worried. 'What I want to know is what I can do about it!'
'Carolyn,' sighed Douglas. 'I know you all have a wonderful amount of faith in me but I am afraid that even I cannot just magic money out of thin air.'
Carolyn laughed bitterly, 'And here I was thinking that you were like that man with the golden finger. What's-his- name...'
'King Midas? Yes, because that went so well for him. Show me the figures again.' There came the noise of papers being shuffled and Douglas cursing quietly. 'How did the mortgage even get this bad?'
Carolyn snorted and said, 'everything I have goes on GERTI and this stupid company.' But she said it kindly, resigned. 'Remember Douglas, this is for your eyes only. I can't be worrying Martin and Arthur with this.'
'Well they are going to find out when they turn up and we no longer have an aeroplane. That might be a bit of a giveaway.' Arthur frowned. No plane- What was going on? Douglas was speaking still, 'so how much do you need? Is there something you could sell that would give you enough; your car?'
Carolyn gave a bitter laugh, 'the world is not enough. Or that's how it feels. But that's why this flight is so important. The government contract could keep us a float just for a little while longer... long enough to think of something else.' They fell into silence for a moment.
'Carolyn, I know I can be a sarcastic bastard but I say this seriously. Give this up before it ruins you. Martin and I will find other jobs somehow and you cannot risk everything for this.'
'But what else will I do and, more importantly, what would Arthur do. Say I give them the plane and the money, what little there is, from the company. What do I do? Retire? No thank you. And I have Arthur to think of.'
'Yes, you do,' said Douglas firmly. 'And which is better for him, somewhere to live, or an aeroplane?'
They both laughed as Carolyn answered, 'you know which he would pick, God love him.' There was a pause, 'come on, I need another coffee.' Arthur panicked that he might be discovered but, luckily for him, the coffee machines were the opposite side of the cafe from him so neither his mother or Douglas noticed him crouched behind their seats eavesdropping.
Arthur sat, cross-legged on the floor a frown on his face. What had that been about? He thought; clearly it was money problems. Something about the mortgage. What he did understand was that things were bad. Bad enough to have to give up GERTI! He knew Mum struggled to keep MJN going but didn't think they were in that much trou...
But Arthur's thoughts were cut off there as he noticed he was being watched.
