A child, a little girl at most six, was sat on the floor across from him watching and crying. She was only crying gently, every so often sniffing and wiping a hand across her face. Arthur frowned then, making sure that Douglas and Carolyn would not notice him emerging from his hiding place, stood and walked across the terminal towards her. She watched him the whole way sat, as he had been, cross-legged on the floor.

No one else in the terminal seemed to notice her, too busy making their way to flights and taxis and keeping an eye on their own noisy children. Arthur slowed as he neared her, not wanting to scare the already upset child. She was dressed for holiday, a sun hat on her head and backpack in her lap. Arthur could tell she had just arrived as she was pasty white as only the British could be. Her eyes were red, showing that she had been crying for a while. She sniffed again as Arthur crouched.

'Hallo,' he said softly. 'Are you okay?' He smiled a warm reassuring smile then but the girl's lip trembled and she started crying harder than ever. 'Hey, what's wrong?' Arthur looked around but all the adults nearby had children with them. 'Have you lost your parents?' The little girl met his gaze and nodded slowly. 'Well that's not very good is it?' He smiled again, and this time her crying seemed to abate slightly.

'I know,' Arthur reached into his pocket, pulled out an apple and then, delving deeper, a tissue which he passed to the little girl. She took it tentatively, still not speaking. 'What's your name?' Arthur asked still crouched in front of her.

She sniffed again and then said, so quietly that Arthur had to lean in to hear, 'Lucy.'

'Well then Lucy' said Arthur, standing and holding out his hand. 'I'm Arthur.' After a moment's thought Lucy took Arthur's hand and he helped her to her feet. Her crying seemed to have stopped and she even offered him a half smile.

'Right, um...' In truth, Arthur had no idea what to do now. Douglas or Mum would know, but something stopped him from walking back towards the cafe. He thought of the number of times he had been told to grow up in the last twelve hours and his face set in a determined expression. He could do this. He looked down at the little girl clinging on to him and gave her hand a little squeeze. 'Shall we go and find your Mummy and Daddy?'

I can do this. I can do this. No big deal. Thought Arthur as the two of them wound their way, hand in hand through the airport. He kept looking around as they went to see if he could find anyone who matched Lucy's description. But none of the adults did, and none of them looked remotely like they were missing a child. 'Where did you last see them?' Arthur asked desperately. Lucy pointed towards a duty free shop selling hats and summer clothing. They made their way towards it but were not in luck. The shop was empty apart from a bored looking woman behind the desk. Arthur made his way up to her. 'Um hello, excuse me?' she looked up from the magazine she was reading. 'Bonjour?' she said sounding fed up with her very existence.

Arthur was baffled. 'Oh right, bonjour. Ca va? And that is all I know. Right, English?' the woman nodded. 'Brilliant. We are looking for Lucy's parents. Have you seen them?' Arthur quickly described the middle aged couple as Lucy had, but the woman just shrugged.

'Maybe.'

Arthur widened his grin, 'Well have you seen them or not?'

'Don't know. Lots of people come in ze shop.'

Arthur looked around the completely deserted shop and then back at the woman.

'You must remember something!' he cried desperately.

Sighing, she pointed in the direction of the central cafe in the airport. 'Brilliant!' Cried Arthur as they set off in that direction. As they passed a rack of hats however, he felt a small tug at his hand. Lucy had stopped and was gazing at the items, obvious want in her eyes. 'Top one?' she said gesturing.

Arthurs obligingly reached it down for her, 'we really should go and find your parents though...' He trailed off as a massive grin spit the girls face. The hat was far too big for her with a floppy rim that covered most of her face. The band around it was red with flowers, matching her backpack. She reached into her bag, riffled for a second, and pulled out a doll and pointed to it. 'Match.' And she was right. The hat she had picked matched exactly that of the doll. Arthur looked down at the girl and then delved around in his pocket for the change his mother had given him for Toblerone. 'Wait here,' he told her.

Carolyn and Douglas had spent the rest of the free time they had in the crew canteen poring over the bank statements, trying to desperately think of 'something, anything to keep this bloody airline afloat!'

'We could always sell Arthur?' Douglas suggested with a sigh as he lent back rubbing his eyes with one hand while taking a swig of coffee with the other.

'Douglas!' Carolyn chastised.

'Yes, sorry, what was I thinking; that would leave us with no Arthur and no money.'

'I just don't know what to do Douglas. Keep the plane and we have nowhere to live; keep the house, no job. And Arthur loves this job!' Carolyn looked, worryingly on the verge of tears, 'and I just don't know what else he could do. And I so enjoy running an airline. It's fun and rewarding and, most importantly proves that man wrong.'

Douglas gave a small chuckle. He looked at his watch, 'well I'm sorry Carolyn but even I am really stumped this time. I don't know how to come up with that much cash. Had better go and find Martin and get back to the plane though otherwise we are going to keep Mr Grey waiting.'

'Oh that would be so terrible would it... no you're right, even we shouldn't stand in the way of global diplomacy.' Carolyn didn't try to hide the sarcasm in her voice, but she stood anyway, taking one last sip of coffee. 'I'll go straight back to GERTI and makes sure Arthur hasn't destroyed her in the last half hour, you go and find the mighty Sky God.'

The Sky God in question was in the changing room of T.M Lewin trying on what felt like the hundredth shirt since he had left Arthur. They were all just not quite right. It did not help that he was such an odd shape, of course, short and broad but underweight from lack of funds. The Ginger didn't help either. What colour was he supposed to wear? And his hair was always errant no matter how hard he tried to flatten it, like it was trying to draw attention to itself. 'Bloody hell!' He was just tugging what had looked like a lovely shirt, until it was on him, back over his head when he heard a familiar drawl.

'Um, excuse me? Yes... have you seen a pilot? Funny looking chap, short, wearing hat, bit nervous?'

Before Douglas could describe him any further, Martin stuck his head around the curtain and yelled, 'Over here, Douglas.' The First Officer turned and suppressed a giggle. Martin was even redder in the face than normal and half way into, or out of, a dreadful shirt. 'I thought I saw you come in here; what on earth are you doing?'

Martin tugged the shirt back down, 'playing golf. What does it look like?'

'Well, in that shirt, like you are going to a Hawaiian beach party quite frankly.'

Martin looked down; 'too much?' he asked biting his lip in worry causing the healing split to break again. 'Ow.'

'Not if you are Graham Norton on a night out... What are you shopping for anyway? You hate shopping. Martin?' But half of Martin's attention was on his phone again while the other half riffled in his pocket for a tissue.

'Oh Martin...do you have a DATE?' Douglas' face lit up in delight.

'What, no!' Martin stared back into the knowing look of Douglas and crumpled. 'Yes, alright I do. Not that it's going to go anywhere. I mean,' he couldn't stop now. 'She wants to go out for dinner "somewhere smart" and you know I don't have that sort of money. And, well, she is way out of my league anyway...' He trailed off.

'Who is she?' Douglas had seated himself on the arm of a chair, passing Martin a tissue from his own pocket- this was Christmas.

'Daughter of one of Mum's friends. We met at Mum's tennis club. Susan.'

'And do you like her?' Douglas asked in his most innocent voice. Martin nodded and then threw himself down into the chair Douglas was perched on, dabbing at his split lip.

'Rather a lot actually and what's worse, is I think that she might like me. Well that will all go out the window on the date won't it?' He put on a high pitched voice, 'Oh yes, I have always wanted to date a pilot who isn't paid, who lives in a grimy flat share and dresses like John Barrowman on a bad day.' Martin ran a hand through his curls in exasperation.

'Oh the shirt isn't that bad.' Douglas sighed. Martin looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. 'Okay, the trick to a good shirt is plain, not too bright and a good fit. There must be something in this shop that will fit even you. Come on, let's get looking. Quickly though, we only have about ten minutes before we need to be back on the plane to fix everything up for Mr Grey.' Martin ignored the jibe and trailed after Douglas through the shop, grateful for the help, even if it had to come from Douglas.

As Martin and Douglas desperately searched the shirt racks of T. M Lewin, Arthur was desperately searching his brain for a solution. He gave Lucy a reassuring smile and she returned it from under the brim of the large hat he had bought her. Arthur remembered how scared he had been the countless times he had lost Carolyn when out and about. She had always dressed Arthur in bright, garish colours and given him strict instructions, but he was always getting lost and always because he had been distracted by something 'Brilliant'; that feeling of not knowing where his mum was, or where he was for that matter. Arthur hated being separated from his Mum even now. Not in a weird way, he just liked spending time with her. He ran a hand through his short brown hair and sighed, maybe he should move out. Did he need to? Arthur had never worried about the fact that he lived with his Mum before, it just made sense. But, he thought back to the conversation with Mr Grey and all the times he had been told to grow up that day and sighed again; maybe it was time. Though, he thought, Mum might not have a house soon apparently so I might not have a choice.

'You Ok?' Lucy was gazing up at him. Arthur realised he had stopped walking, lost in thought; he never was one for multitasking. 'You look sad.'

'I was just thinking Lucy.' He gave her another reassuring smile.

'Bout what?'

'The times I lost my Mum when I was little like you. But I always found her again,' he added hastily. 'After a while the nice voice would come on the tannoy and the shop would ask for 'Arthur Shappy to go to the toy section'. I always knew where that was and...oh!' Arthur slapped his head. 'That's it. The airport can ask your mum and dad to come to you!' He did a full circle on the spot, and then another, and another. 'Sorry, that's just really fun.' Lucy had a go and giggled.

'Anyway, ummm, there,' he pointed. 'Information should be able to do that for us.' He grabbed hold of the little girl's hand again and they trotted off together towards the yellow desk.

'But where could it BE!'

'I don't know'

'But WHERE IS IT.'

'My answer is unlikely to have changed in the last ten seconds, Carolyn.'

'Martin?'

'Don't look at me!'

'So neither of you know?!'

'I think we may have ascertained this information, yes.'

'Douglas, one more sarcastic comment from you and I swear to God there will be knives...'

'Of course,' Douglas took a step back from his very angry boss. 'The person you should be asking is the one who took it in the first place.'

Carolyn suddenly looked stricken.

'One Arthur Shappy' finished Douglas.

The two pilots, having finally found Martin a shirt that didn't make him look too short, underweight or ginger, had proceed back to the plane to find Carolyn angry; maybe even gusting a force ten. It appeared that the suitcase full of money had vanished. Carolyn spun on the spot, much like her son was doing in the airport at that very moment.

'Right, it's fine. If you were Arthur, where would you have put it?'

Douglas placed Martin's shopping bag down in the First Officer's seat, 'You may be in the best position to know given your status as his Mother and thus the best one with a shot into the psychology of Arthurs.'

'This is Arthur we are talking about, how on earth is anyone supposed to know what goes on in his mind! That boy once hid a twenty pound note in the toaster!'

She looked around hopelessly. 'Well, I will just have to go and find him. You two stay here, keep looking, don't break anything and for God's sake, stall Mr Grey if he comes back before I do!'

Martin and Douglas both knew it was simply easier to nod.