'This is BRILLIANT, Skip.' Each word Arthur yelled was punctuated by a little jump. Martin smiled at him but it was forced; he was yet to make it inside the house and was thus being pelted by summer rain. Arthur finally noticed the downpour, 'oh, sorry,' and stepped aside, flinging his arm out to gesture that Martin should follow. Martin stepped gratefully inside, pleased that Arthur had stopped enthusing at him for one moment.

'I'm just so excited!' Arthur was already down the far end of the corridor with a box of Martin's belongings in his arms. Martin looked around as he removed his, now soaking, shoes. The house was massive, much bigger than he was used to, and tastefully decorated. Big, wooden furniture dominated every room and it was unfrilly. It still felt homely though. There were hints of Arthur everywhere from shoes piled untidily in the hall to his MJN steward's hat balanced on the banister. Every surface was covered in pictures, mostly of Arthur beaming throughout his childhood. There were some of Carolyn as well, usually being dwarfed by her son, both in their uniforms in some sunny location or other.

Suddenly Martin found himself being tripped up by something small, fury and yappy.

'Oh, hello Snupadop,' He said, tickling the dog behinds it's ears.

'Come on Skip!' Arthur whined, picking up the yappy dog with one hand. 'I need to give you the tour!'

Carolyn rolled her eyes at Martin and disappeared into what he could only assume was the kitchen. He was given no chance to find out for certain before he was whisked off on the tour by Arthur. He was show the sitting room, the dining room, laundry room ('I'm not allowed to use the washing machine any more though'), Arthur's kitchen and bed room and the goldfish. 'That's Mum and Herk's...' but Arthur broke off blushing and Martin pretended to be very interested in the curtains for a moment. His favourite room was definitely Arthurs. Spacious and full of beanbags and other comfy chairs, it was decorated by a small army of model planes that all hung on string from the ceiling.

Arthur blushed again when Martin complimented them. 'Thanks. I made them all myself, with some help from Mum.' The room was even painted blue so, with the window open letting in a breeze, the planes really did seem to be flying.

'LUNCH!' The shout reverberated around the house and Arthur turned as though on a lead.

'Coming Mum!'

Martin had never seen Carolyn looking so domestic as he entered the kitchen. She was stood over a boiling pot of what turned out to be homemade chicken soup, an apron on and a ladle in her hand.

'Thought you could do with fattening up Martin.' She said as she placed a steaming bowl down in front of him. Martin smiled and nodded; his diet of cuppa soup and baked beans had not left him feeling at his most healthy. Arthur beamed at him again, a roll covered in soup dripping in one hand.

'How long are you staying for then Skip?'

Martin smiled back and glanced at Carolyn, 'That's really not up to me to decide Arthur. Your Mum is being very kind in letting me stay here, but it's only for a bit.'

Arthur's face fell, but then it lit up again as a thought struck him. He turned in his seat to where his mother was dishing out a bowl of soup for herself. 'He has to stay at least two days, Mum!'

Carolyn looked quizzically at her son as she came towards the table and sat down.

'Summer Christmas!' Prompted Arthur.

'Oh, God. It's the 23rd today isn't it?' Carolyn sighed. 'The 25th is Summer Christmas,' She explained to Martin's quizzical look. 'Yes, Arthur, I suppose Martin will still be here for that.'

'Brilliant.'

Martin whiled away the rainy afternoon playing Guess Who with Arthur and then reading his 'Top Tips for Aviation' book for the 5th time while Arthur had to go off to revise with Carolyn. He couldn't suppress a laugh hearing Carolyn trying to explain 'quarterly intakes' and 'gross profit' to her son in terms of number of Apples. 'You have to speculate to accumulate, Arthur. So companies might give out apples in the hope that they will get more apples in return as the people they give apples to will grow apple trees...'

'But Mum, wouldn't they just eat the apples?'

'You have to hope not, dear. You just have to trust them to give you something back.'

'But that's silly.'

'I know and I'm sure that you and George Osborn would have much to discuss. But for now please just trust me, Arthur!'

That evening Martin was so exhausted that he passed on watching Die Hard 4 ('the best one!') with Arthur to get an early night. As he padded along the hallway to the bathroom, he glanced through Arthur's open door and something caught his eye. Checking up and down the corridor, he went inside the room to the desk by the window. On it was a framed photograph. With a jolt and a smile, Martin realised it was the one Carolyn had taken of her 'victorious boys' when they had just returned from St Petersburg. The three men were all posing in front of the newly repaired Gerti, beaming. Well, Douglas was smiling sardonically but the intention was there. Arthur was crouched in front of the two pilots, his tie askew, Martin's captain's hat balanced on his head. They all looked so joyful, like a very funny sort of family. Sighing, Martin replaced the photo and turned to leave. He jumped a mile when he found Carolyn watching him from the door way. But she was smiling.

Reassured, he mumbled, 'nice photo...'

'Yes, it is rather.' She sighed and shook her head,' you three will be the death of me.'

Martin, slept brilliantly that night. It certainly made a change from either strange hotel rooms or the sofa in the cabin. Never-the-less, stuck in Indian time, he awoke at four in the morning, unable to get back to sleep. Eventually he gave in and went in search of a cup of tea. As he approached the kitchen, he noticed the light was on. He paused to flatten his hair and then, expecting Carolyn, turned through the door way. He nearly fell over in surprise. There, cup of tea in hand, leaning against the counter as though he was just always there was

'Herk?'

Hercules Shipwright may have even been more surprised than Martin. 'Good, God, Martin! What the hell are you doing here?'

Martin nearly blurted out, 'well I could ask you the same thing', but luckily even his sleepy brain realised that this would not be the best idea. 'I, er. Um, staying with Carolyn for a few days until...until my flat gets sorted.' He was rather pleased when Herk didn't press the matter; he couldn't face being totally truthful with the senior Captain. Martin motioned at the kettle behind the older man that was still steaming gently and the older man passed it over.

Herk coughed nervously, 'I am just, um, stopping over too. You know, my house is so far from the airport and all...'

Martin thought it best not to mention that Swiss Airways didn't ever fly into Fitton. Both men blew awkwardly onto their tea. 'Well I had best get back to...' the laughed, having spoken in the same instant.

Herk nodded, 'yes of course.'

'Well.' Martin waved vaguely through the kitchen door and back to his room. 'See you in the morning then.'

Had Martin still been awake ten minutes later he would have heard the tell tale noise of Carolyn's door that creaked despite the best efforts of Hercules Shipwright.