CAROLYN: Boys! We’ve just picked up an extra job. There shall be buns for tea. Where’s Martin? DOUGLAS: He’s not in yet. ARTHUR: What’s the job, Mum? CAROLYN: For Air-Caledonia, the ‘Wee Scottish Airline’. One of their pilots has gone sick in Newcastle and they want us to fly up the covering crew. I do like flying other pilots; you don’t have to hold back with them. DOUGLAS: Do you do much holding back with the passengers normally? CAROLYN: Of course I do! DOUGLAS: Good Lord. ARTHUR: Mum, we’ve only got two pilots. What would we do if one of them went sick? CAROLYN: They wouldn’t dare. ARTHUR: But what if they did? CAROLYN: Well then, I’m sure we’d think of something. (Door opens) Ah, there you are Martin. MARTIN: Hello, Carolyn. What have I missed? ARTHUR: Hi Skip! You’re looking very well. MARTIN: Oh. Thank you, Arthur. ARTHUR: Don’t you think Douglas? DOUGLAS: Not ‘specially. I think he looks exactly the same as always. (Credits!!) (Door Opens) DOUGLAS: Hello Martin. Are the pilots here yet? MARTIN: We’re the pilots, Douglas. DOUGLAS: Yes, but the proper pilots. MARTIN: Not yet, no. DOUGLAS: Ah, is that the flight plan? MARTIN: Nope it’s mine, leave it. DOUGLAS: Oh Martin, please don’t tell me you’ve written a slim volume of verse. (Rushing pages) Oh. A C.V. MARTIN: Umm. DOUGLAS: Goodness. Feeling the call of the highlands are we? Fancy ourselves in tartan epaulets and a flying kilt? MARTIN: There’s nothing wrong with trying to advance one’s career! DOUGLAS: Not at all. So what’s the plan? Fly them to Newcastle with such panache and élan that the captain feels compelled to recommend you to their chief Mc-pilot. MARTIN: I know it’s a long shot but if the captain and I should happen to hit it off, you never know. DOUGLAS: You never do. What flight time do you have from Fitton to Newcastle? MARTIN: Twenty five minutes. DOUGLAS: Hmm… Let’s hope he’s the sort who makes friends quickly. (Door Opens) CAROLYN: Alright, look sharp. The pilots are here. MARTIN: We are the pilots! CAROLYN: I mean the proper pilots. MARTIN: Could everyone please stop calling them that. (Door Opens) HERC: Good morning. MJN Air? DOUGLAS: Herc! HERC: Douglas. DOUGLAS & HERC: Hula, hula, gaba! MARTIN: Oh terrific. HERC: How the devil are you? Not seen you since, oh…for a long time. But haven’t you done well for yourself? I see from your uniform you’ve become a Bolivian tank commander. DOUGLAS: Yes, it’s an exuberant little number, isn’t it? And you’re a Scotsman, now you? HERC: Ah, you don’t have to be Scottish to fly for a Scottish airline you know. DOUGLAS: Don’t you? That’s interesting. Isn’t it, Martin? Oh, Martin this is Captain Herc Shipwright, old friend of mine from Air England. MARTIN: (sighs) Yes, I thought he might be. HERC: Martin. Pleasure. Hope this, ah, lazy old sod doesn’t work you too hard? MARTIN: Not really, no. I’m the captain. HERC: Oh! Gosh…so you are. Terribly sorry. So, Douglas does that mean you’re- (Interrupts rather hurriedly) DOUGLAS: And this is Carolyn. HERC: Charmed. Herc. CAROLYN: Herc? HERC: That’s it, yes, yes. Short for Hercules. Dad was…um…Dad was rather eccentric. After the aircraft though, rather than the hero. I’ll never know if that makes it better or worse. CAROLYN: Did you have any brothers? HERC: Wellington and Harrier. CAROLYN: Sisters? HERC: Sarah. He was eccentric, not mad. You’re the cabin crew then I take it? CAROLYN: I am the owner and the CEO. HERC: Oh gosh, are you? Well done. CAROLYN: What do you mean “well done?!" HERC: I don’t know. Nothing, really. CAROLYN: “Well done for running a big scary company all by yourself, you clever little lady?” HERC: No, no, absolutely not. No, (splutters) just a general, you know, good for you. CAROLYN: I see. So you’d still have said “well done” if I’d been an ugly, middle aged man in a suit, would you? HERC: The thought is inconceivable. So, it’s you I do the forms and what-not with, is it? CAROLYN: Yes. So please, step into my office from where I administrate my airline. HERC: Right you are. Ah, here’s my first officer. (Door Opens) I thought I’d lost you. Chaps, this is Linda Fairburn; Linda, these are some chaps. LINDA: Hello. MARTIN: Oh. HERC: Back in a tick. (Door slams shut) LINDA: Oh? MARTIN: Oh, how lovely to see you. LINDA: Have we met before? MARTIN: I don’t think so, no. People haven’t usually met me before. LINDA: Sorry? MARTIN: I mean, they’ve normally met Douglas before, if they’ve met anyone. I, I, I mean obviously the people who have met me before have met me before. But there aren’t many of those because, I haven’t met…most…people. DOUGLAS: Douglas Richardson, how lovely to meet you. LINDA: And you. (Pause) Oh! Is that your plane out there? DOUGLAS: That rather swish Gulf Stream? Alas, no. You see the forlorn object facing it and thereby providing it with a grim memento mori ? That’s GERTI. LINDA: Yes, that’s what I meant- the Lockheed McDonnell 3-12 MARTIN: Oh! Yes, that’s it. LINDA: Fantastic! I didn’t realise there were any of those still flying. MARTIN: Well, there aren’t many. DOUGLAS: And those there are barely do. MARTIN: That’s very impressive though. Not many people know what it is. DOUGLAS: Most people have to stop and think before saying ‘aeroplane’. LINDA: Well…I, I was a big plane spotter when I was a girl, so- MARTIN: Really?! Me too. LINDA: What, when you were a girl? M What? No, no, ah.(Laughs awkwardly) Yes, when I was a girl-No! When I was a boy. I, I, was never a girl. DOUGLAS: Yes. Good to be absolutely clear. (Door opens) ARTHUR: Okay, chaps. Cabin cross-checked, ready for take-off. MARTIN: Thank you Arthur. And, ah, how’s Captain Shipwright looking? Happy? Relaxed? ARTHUR: I wouldn’t say relaxed… MARTIN: Oh?! Why not? ARTHUR: Well he’s talking to Mum. MARTIN: Why’s she still on board? I can’t ask him for a job with her sitting there. Tell her to get off the plane! ARTHUR: Tell her to? MARTIN: Yes! ARTHUR: Mum? MARTIN: Yes! How hard could it be? ARTHUR: It can be impossible. MARTIN: Go! (Door closes) DOUGLAS: You sure it’s Herc you want to speak to? MARTIN: What do you mean? DOUGLAS: Not First Officer Linda, the plane spotting pride of Penicuik. MARTIN: Well, she can’t recommend me, can she? She’s only my age; she’s hardly going to know the chief pilot. DOUGLAS: She is about your age, yes. And rather nice, I thought. MARTIN: Why? Do you think…she’d...? DOUGLAS: So by the time we land in Newcastle, you’d ideally like a job recommendation from one of our passengers and a date from the other? MARTIN: That’s not really feasible, is it? DOUGLAS: It’s an ambitious program, certainly. HERC: Alright, I admit it! I said “good for you” because you’re a woman. CAROLYN: Ha! HERC: Because you’re clearly doing a fine job in what is, unfortunately a male dominated profession. CAROLYN: Well now you’re changing the terms of the argument. HERC: Yes, I am. CAROLYN: And you’re still wrong ARTHUR: Ah, Mum? Captain says to tell you we’re leaving now. CAROLYN: Right. Thank you. ARTHUR: Yes. CAROLYN: Anything else? ARTHUR: No! Well, just, um, if you’re going to get off you should probably get off. CAROLYN: I’m not going anywhere. ARTHUR: Well, you sort of will, ah, because by not going anywhere you will go to Newcastle. You see what I mean. CAROLYN: Alright, then. I’ll go to Newcastle. ARTHUR: Yup, fine! Um…only I think the Skipper’s done the weight calculations based on five people and d- CAROLYN: Arthur, if you are about to suggest my weight is going to make us too heavy to take off, very bad things will happen to you. DOUGLAS: Post take off checks complete! MARTIN: Thank you DOUGLAS: Which means, today that pre-landing checks pretty much about to start. MARTIN: Right. Oh, okay. I think I’ve decided. I’m going to concentrate on getting Herc alone and giving him my C.V. DOUGLAS: Awwwwwwwwwwwwww. MARTIN: What?! Do you think that’s the wrong decision? DOUGLAS: No, I think it’s probably the right one. I’m just an old romantic. (Knocking) Come in. (Door opens) LINDA: Hello. Sorry to intrude, it’s the, conversation back there was getting a little heated. MARTIN: Oh, no you’re welcome. It’s lovely to see you and very nice to, uh…see you. LINDA: Thank you, Martin. MARTIN: So. Linda. You’re a pilot? LINDA: Yes. MARTIN: Yes, obviously, sorry. That wasn’t the question. That was just, er, preliminary statement before the actual question I was going to ask, which is: How long have you been a pilot? LINDA: Twelve years. MARTIN: Twelve years. Right. Twelve years, well that’s not a long time…or a short time. Er, do you like it? LINDA: What? MARTIN: Being a pilot? LINDA: Yes, I do. Do you? MARTIN: Yes I do. I like it, like you. I mean- I like it like you do. Not that I like it like I like you. I don’t like you. I mean- I don’t not like you, I just I don’t like you as much as I like being a pilot. LINDA: Don’t you? MARTIN: Well, not yet. I mean, I’m sure if I got to know you I’d like you more than being a- Well probably not more than being a pilot, ‘cause I love being a pilot and I don’t suppose I’d love you- Well I suppose I might. No I mean…I’m just going to go and have a wander down the cabin. (Door opens as Martin flees) LINDA: Is he always like that? DOUGLAS: No, he’s not terribly good at talking to other pilots, I’m afraid. LINDA: Ooooh. I thought that was ...
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