Barways Martin - Aged 10 and a half

[honestlyapilot]

Martin sits in a booth, half a sandwich lying on a plate, forgotten at his elbow. A glass of coke, swept out of the way of his construction space, sits dripping condensation onto the table top. He's rather too busy playing with Lego to bother with food.

Martin is building an aeroplane. He's not really that good with Airfix models yet, though his Dad is teaching him a bit, but he likes to build with Lego. If you get it wrong you can always start again.

Comments

[can_finish_them]

Whrrrrrrm... Whrrrrrrrrrrm...

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it a bewinged demon bunny with chaos aforethought?

...Well, no, it is in fact a plane. (Sorry if anyone got their hopes up.)

Specifically, it's a fighter jet, painted inauthentically and brilliantly cherry-red and about half a foot long from nose to tail.

The little plane emerges into Milliways in a graceful upwards arc, buzzing thoughtfully around in the rafters for almost a minute before it loses the signal from its controller and slowly describes an unnaturally gentle descent to the ground, where it sensibly trundles into a safe refuge under Martin's chair.

(Maybe one of the patrons decided to lend a helping hand; maybe the Loompas decided they had enough work to do without collecting toy mechanical bits from every nook and cranny. Or maybe even a magical bar at the end of the universe is allowed a sneaking fondness for especially pretty toy planes.)

It is a few minutes before anyone follows the Firefox through the door to claim her.

[honestlyapilot]

Martin hears the buzzing and looks up from his half-finished model. He spots the plane on its descent coming right for him and is about to duck but instead it swoops, lands and runs under the table. He leans over to peer at it upside-down.

He reaches in after it and pulls it out firmly but carefully, and gently strokes some dust off a wingtip.

"Oh wow!" He breathes out softly, reverently.

"Who do you belong to?" He asks, entranced and not expecting an answer.

[can_finish_them]

In the meantime, a ten-year-old person with plaited golden hair halfway to coming loose and a streak of mud across one cheek appears to have found a door where she's pretty sure one of the outhouses is supposed to be.

Lady Katherine Douglas has never been introduced to a magical bar before, but appears to be more than equal to the situation - especially since she's just spotted her missing toy.

And thus -

"Me!" pipes a cheerful voice from behind Martin.

[honestlyapilot]

Martin spins round to face her, still clutching the toy to his chest.

"Really?" He asks, eyes wide. In his experience girls are very rarely interested in things that are actually interesting like planes. "It's very cool."

He holds it out for her to take back. "She's a brilliant colour."

[can_finish_them]

"Uh-huh. She's a Red Arrow," she informs him proudly. "- Well, not really, 'cause the Arrows don't fly Tornado GR4s, they fly Hawk T1s, but I wanted one that was exactly just the same as the one my mum flies, so I painted her red so she could be sort of both at once, almost."

She has done her research. She has done a lot of research.

(That particular shade of cherry-red, whilst not exactly Red Arrow-approved, is also her favourite colour, and is also the colour her trainers would be if they weren't so plastered with mud.)

[honestlyapilot]

Martin nods at her wisdom, obviously she must be very clever to know all about planes too.

"I was making a-" He stops and replays her sentence in his head. "Wait. Your Mum flies Tornadoes?" He sounds incredulous but overjoyed. "That is SO cool."

[can_finish_them]

"Uh-huh!" Kaidy nods her head several times very fast, beaming at him. "My mum's name is Air Commodore Neala Douglas and she gets really really angry when people say she's too important to fly any more and I'm going to be just like her when I'm older, only no-one is ever going to get to tell me I can't fly."

Beat.

"Except probably without being old, because that sounds boring."

You can totally make that bit optional, right? Right?

[honestlyapilot]

Martin is so jealous right now.

"My Mum doesn't even have a job, she just looks after my brother and sister and me. My Dad's an elec-trishun though. He's got a van. It's not as good as a plane. But I'm going to be a pilot anyway and fly in the RAF."

Martin beams. He has plans.

[can_finish_them]

Kaidy beams right back at him.

"You can be in the Red Arrows with me, if you want."

He gets it. She's never met anyone her age who understands about planes before.

[honestlyapilot]

"I s'pose we could always do both?" Martin says in a questioning sort of voice. "We could be in the RAF during the week and then fly Red Arrows at displays and stuff at the weekends." He shrugs.

Basically the best thing would be flying all the time, only sometimes he acknowledges that stopping for a bit to get something to eat and some drink is probably going to be a good idea. And probably sometimes he'll want to play with Lego and things and sleep too, but otherwise he's fine with flying all the rest of the times.

[can_finish_them]

"But the Red Arrows are in the RAF," Kaidy explains patiently. "You have to do at least one normal tour of duty and have like fifteen hundred flying hours and then you can apply, and if you get in you just do a three year tour of duty and then you go back to being in the regular RAF again. So you can totally do both."

:D?