Winters' Tales

The Man with the Diamond Locket.

-EIGHT MONTHS BEFORE THE EVENTS OF 'WHAT MAKES A DETECTIVE'-

Young Toby Smart was sitting in his desk chair, feet on the desk and his fingers knitted across his stomach in his 'thinking pose'.

It was a Saturday, so naturally, Toby had been in that pose for most of the morning. He had begun in a sulk, as his older brother Tarquin had whisked a rather special friend of his, Bridget McKinnon, out from under his nose early that very morning with promises of cakes from their bakery, but then Toby had begun plotting his revenge and everything had escalated rather quickly.

Currently he was carefully contemplating the physiological logistics of balancing a bag of flour on top of a bucket of water on top of the bakery door and dropping the whole lot onto Quinne's head as he walked through it.

The outcome was looking utterly hilarious.

"Toby?"

Toby spun on the chair and looked up as his mother poked her head into the study.

"Tea, Tobias. Now. I've been shouting you for the last five minutes" she snapped frustratedly, and Toby rolled his eyes, following her as she bustled back down the long corridor, past the bakery and through into the kitchen, where Quinne was already sitting at the table, stuffing his face with what looked like a chicken pie.

"Bridget and I went down to Harper Woods today, Mum" Quinne was saying, with his mouth full. Toby scowled at his brother as he sat down opposite him.

"How nice for you" their mother replied kindly, as Toby reluctantly began to eat. He knew he'd booked himself front row seats for 'The Marvellous Adventures Of Tarquin and Bridget' and he didn't half hate it.

"Did you pick up the things from the market I asked for?" Mrs. Smart had added. Quinne was nodding through a mouthful of broccoli.

"We did. We got a couple of extra things, too, Mother." Quinne smiled smugly. "I was going to try another experiment tomorrow. Bridget was coming to help out."

"That'll be nice. She's a lovely girl, isn't she, Toby?" their mother agreed, looking over at Toby who nodded as unenthusiastically as possible.

"What's gotten into you, man?" Quinne then asked, but the smile on his face proved to Toby that his brother knew exactly what had 'gotten into him' and was enjoying the moral victory immensely.

"I'm just tired, I guess" Toby grumbled, focusing more intently on his dinner plate, and trying to shovel the pie into his mouth all the quicker.

At that point, the service bell in the bakery rang loudly, and Toby jumped at the opportunity to escape Quinne's smarmy smirk. Assuring his mother that he would be back quickly, Toby slipped down the passage, and upon entering the warm bakery his heart jumped again.

"Bridget" he managed to splutter out, as the ginger-haired girl beamed at him, leaning over the counter.

"Can I get you something?" Toby added, unsure as whether to cross over and also lean on the counter or go over to the cake stall, but due to nerves and no sheer amount of shock his legs stayed stock still.

"Nah" Bridget smiled. "I came to give your brother his jumper back. He left it at my house-we were clearing the pond in the bottom of the garden."

"Right." Toby ran his tongue awkwardly around his teeth, moving forward finally as Bridget handed over Quinne's jumper.

"You should have come" she was saying. "We could have done with the extra pair of hands."

"Quinne didn't tell me" Toby replied, a little cagily. "But I would have come and helped you out if I'd known. How are the dogs?"