Arthur had scurried off with Martin's bags to load them in the car, and returned shortly after.
"Mum's got the car and is ready to go," he informed them, eyeing Martin with worry. But Douglas didn't have time to reassure him.
"Alright. Hold the door open. And Martin, don't try to fight," he warned gently before scooping Martin up, blankets and all, much like one would a swaddled infant.
"Wow Douglas!" Arthur exclaimed, "You're strong!"
"Well, it just so happens that yes, I am strong, but Martin here happens to be very light. Almost feathery. If feathers had sharp elbows," he grunted as Martin shifted in protest and nearly knocked the wind out of him.
Carolyn had parked the car right outside the front door where it said no parking. Douglas grinned.
"Arthur, you get to sit in the front."
"Really? Brilliant."
"Hang on!" Douglas shouted, Arthur already hopping in. "Open the door!"
Arthur looked sheepish as he opened the door for Douglas.
"I feel a bit like a chauffeur."
"Yes, well I'm the one driving!" Carolyn added. "Now get in you clots."
Douglas careful sat Martin on the seat, taking care not to hit his head or any of his gangly limbs, before sliding in next to him. He doubted Martin would be able to sit upright, so he situated him sideways with his head resting on his lap.
The cold car certainly did not help Martin's breathing any, and Douglas fretted over the rasping noise Martin began to make not even ten minutes into the journey. He shifted Martin so he was sitting more upright, hoping that would relieve his breathing slightly, which it may have, unless it was just wishful thinking on Douglas' part.
Arthur was too worried to call out any of the four yellow cars he saw, so Douglas knew it was serious. Or maybe he was being kind and letting Martin get them, which was thoughtful, but not so helpful, as Martin's eyes were closed.
"You're going to be fine," he murmured to Martin quietly, hoping that it was true.