Martin decided to hide in the spare room for the rest of the afternoon. Arthur knocked at some point but he feigned sleep, and was eventually left alone. He was pleased that Carolyn finally knew about his offer from Swiss Air and also that he had finally admitted that he could never leave MJN, but the timing and situation had been far from perfect. He was checking his diary for the next flying week, planning when to sleep etc, when the door banged open and Herk walked in, unannounced.

Martin scrambled from the bed, 'Herk! What...?'

But Hercules simply held up a hand, 'Carolyn wants you and, if you know what's good for you, be quick.' He left, leaving Martin to trot after him down the stairs. Arthur was stood in the hallway downstairs, beaming, Snupadop clutched under one arm. The front door stood open.

'Arthur, what's going on?' But Arthur simply beamed more widely and gestured for Martin to go through the door. He ducked though and there, on the drive, with Carolyn leaning on the bonnet, was...

'My Dad's van!' Martin stopped dead, taken completely by surprise. What ever he had expected, it wasn't that. Carolyn smiled widely at him and tossed him the keys.

'My gift.'

'But Carolyn...'

'My Gift!' she repeated more firmly. Martin stood gazing at her. She ploughed on quickly, 'if you stay, I am not going to pay you as such; you know that is impossible, but from now on you will get enough to cover your rent each month. The van?' She shrugged and walked towards him, patting him gently on the shoulder as she passed and whispered, 'that is my thank you to you.' She kissed him gently on the cheek. Martin simply stood gazing at the van for a very long time until he was called into dinner by, an ever excitable, Arthur.

Martin fell asleep with a smile on his face that night, his van keys still clutched tightly in his fist, cutting into his skin. However, it seemed that no sooner had he fallen asleep than he was woken up by a hand shaking his shoulder.

'Skip. Skip' a voice whispered in his ear. Sleepily Martin opened his eyes and nearly had a heart attack. Arthur's face was about an inch from his own in the faint dawn light.

'wha! Bugger me, Arthur!' Martin shot away from him across the bed, sitting up and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Arthur stood up, framed against the window, 'Sorry, Martin, I didn't mean to scare you. Just...well happy Summer Christmas.'

Martin was still breathing heavily as he reached out and took the small box from Arthur's hands. It was badly wrapped in brown paper with blue ribbon tied around it twice. Martin caught his breath and then said, 'it's fine. Just made me jump is all. The second Shappy to nearly kill me in three days. Sit down.' He gestured at the end of his bed and Arthur jumped in gleefully. Martin had meant 'perch politely on the end' but Arthur leapt straight under the covers, pulling the duvet up to his chin so that he and Martin were top to tail. As Martin leaned back against the head board to unwrap his gift he caught sight of the clock.

'Arthur! It's half past four in the morning.'

Arthur grinned sheepishly at him, 'Sorry, I was just so excited. I have been working on your present for ages. And Mum got to give you one yesterday so...' He trailed off and looked at Martin expectantly.

'But I don't have anything for you.'

Arthur waved his hand, batting Martin away, 'that doesn't matter. Unwrap it!' He was practically bouncing, so Martin complied.

Very carefully, he pulled the ribbon away and unstuck the sticky tape, folding back the paper. Inside was a box about 5 by 7 inches. Remembering other things Arthur had made in the past, it was with some trepidation that Martin opened the box. But, when he did, he let out a low 'ohhh' of surprise and looked up at Arthur wide eyed. 'Did you make this?'

Arthur nodded shyly, as Martin pulled an exact replica Lockheed McDonnell 312 out of the box. Arthur had even painted the letters G.E.R.T.I carefully on the side and M.J.N on the tail.

'It's...' At a loss for any other word, Martin settled for simply, 'Brilliant!'

Arthur yawned, 'thought...you...could hang it in...the frontofyourvan...'

Martin held the model very carefully in his hands. 'Seriously, Arthur; thank you.'

But when the pilot looked up Arthur had fallen fast asleep at the other end of the bed, his breathing heavy and regular. Very carefully Martin lent across and placed the model plane on the bed side table and then slid down, next to Arthur, back under the covers.

Gentle morning sunlight shone on the snoring steward and Martin nodded slightly to himself. With the sun coming up, Arthur next to him, his van outside, and facing the model Lockheed McDonnell Martin fell back to sleep, a massive grin plastered onto his face- leave MJN? Never.