It was half past two on a sunny, breezy Monday afternoon. Most of Oxford was struggling through a long, boring, dreary afternoon of work, everyone wishing feverently that they could be anywhere other than where they were.
But Edmund Gray had taken the afternoon off, and was enjoying it immensely.
Partly because technically he wasn't allowed to skive. But mainly because his companion in the skiving was the brother of his boss, a woman who, to Edmund's intense delight, enjoyed some peace and quiet from time to time. Which meant skiving afternoons like this one came around every now and again, providing you were on the ball enough to pounce on them.
"Have you ever considered the fact" Cammie Hawes mused, as the two of them wandered along the riverbank, leaves swirling around their ankles and wind ruffling Edmund's hair.
"That you could very well be around the same person in a different scenario every day of your life-but never see them, never speak to them, and never realize how tightly your lives are intertwined?"
Edmund wrinkled his nose, as the wind stung his eyes.
"Well, it's all down to chance, really, isn't it?" he replied pensively. "Chance and human nature. When looked at collectively, human beings tend to act in a similar way, even when they're actively trying to be independent. People will look at a sunny day, and think 'Ooh, let's go to the beach!' then they'll see it cloud over and think 'Hmm. Let's make our planned outing to the museum, instead'. All you need are two people who have roughly the same interests and thought processes, and it's as easy as that."
"And as you say, even though our individuality is undoubtedly unique to us, we can still be similar to others in our interests and mannerisms" Cammie agreed. "So really, two people could follow each other around even for a short time, and have no idea."
"Tourists" Edmund chipped in.
"A prime example" Cammie smiled back, as they turned away from the waterside and began to make their way up towards the University, where Edmund had left his bike.
Edmund very much enjoyed his philosophical debates with Cammie. Ever since he had returned to the Dean's office for the coffee he had been promised when they first met, the two of them had delved into theories altogether too complex for Edmund to remember entirely. It was good fun, but occasionally left the young policeman with a bit of a headache.
"How's my dear old sister holding up, anyhow?" Cammie asked nonchalantly, as they wandered together up a quiet backstreet.
"Same as always" Edmund sighed. "Cold, calculated, and still very domineering. D.I. Blakely-you know, the plastic one-came by again the other day to ask if he could have me transferred-again. She's sticking to her guns-and with me, it appears."
"It's cos she knows you're the best she'll ever get" Cammie pointed out, with a sneaky raise of the eyebrow and an amused smirk. "She doesn't want to lose her half-prat and get stuck with another total prat."
"Half-prat?" Edmund repeated, unsure whether to be offended or amused.
"Well, your common sense needs a bit of work. But logistically you're fine" Cammie explained, and when Edmund raised a solitary eyebrow he amended himself.
"Cynthie's words, not mine."
"You mean you actually have conversations which aren't arguments from time to time?" Edmund asked jokingly, as they rounded another bend and walked under an arch. The University was now in sight.
"Oh no, this was an argument" Cammie replied brightly. "I was comparing you to me in my youth. I still hold to the fact that you're like another little version of me."
"Hawes disagrees?" Edmund smiled knowingly.
"She thinks you're not quite as bad as I was" Cammie agreed. "Although to be fair, I used to put worms in her hair..."
Edmund snorted, and felt in his pocket for his phone, which was vibrating.
He instantly recognised the number.
He sighed, picking up the call.
"Ma'am?" he asked dully.
"Good afternoon. How's the blatant skiving?"
"Hardly blatant" Edmund shot back. "Has Bone twigged on to my unauthorised absence?"
"Course not" Hawes scoffed, from the other end of the line. "But he has put us on another case."
"A case?" Edmund repeated, curiosity piqued.
"Yes, that is what I said. Good Lord."
Edmund pulled a rather ugly face into the telephone.
"Where am I meeting you?" he asked. "I'll get my bike-"
"No" Hawes cut him off flatly. "I do actually need you there, ideally before nightfall."
"That bike's served me very well" Edmund complained irritably, scowling again. "I'm not exactly slow on it..."
"Well, considering our destination's at least two hours away by car, I deduce biking to be a very bad idea" came the untailored reply.
Cammie, still standing near, saw Edmund's disgruntled face and snickered loudly.
"You're with my brother" Hawes commented, from down the line. "I'd recognise his infernal cackling anywhere. Get him to give you a lift."
"Cammie?" Edmund called, as Cammie was wandering away. "Hawes says since the crime scene's two hours away and I only have a bike, will you give me a lift?"
Cammie turned, hands in pockets innocently.
"How much is she planning on paying me?" he asked wickedly. "For my...taxi services?"
Edmund glared hard at him, but the old man didn't budge.
"Cammie says how much are you willing to pay him for his taxi services?" Edmund repeated reluctantly down the line. He heard Hawes sigh heavily.
"What's he asking?"
"She says what are you asking" Edmund relayed.
Cammie frowned, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"25 quid" he bargained. Edmund, a little cheesed off already, repeated the asking price to his boss, who snorted loudly.
"I'm not sure you're worth that. Tell him £10."
Edmund's temper boiled.
"She says will you take a tenner?" he reasoned. Cammie laughed it off.
"£20. Lowest offer" he countered. Edmund's scowl became a lot more permanent. He disliked being the butt of Cammie's jokes-they weren't always particularly kind.
"Ma'am, he's saying final offer £20. I'll get a taxi" he told Hawes with a sigh.
"No" his boss ordered firmly. "This is my brother. Tell him £15 and a bottle of brandy."
"She says fifteen and a bottle of brandy" Edmund relayed, disliking intensely the thought of only being worth that much.
Cammie's face split in two with a grin the size of his head.
"Name your destination, D.S. Gray."
Edmund glowered hotly at him.
"Where am I going, ma'am?" he asked Hawes, down the phone.
"Coates Hill Preparatory School For Boys" Hawes told him. "Cameron will know it. He knows everywhere here within a 200 mile radius."
"Right" Edmund sighed. "See you there."
Hawes had rang off before Edmund had finished his sentence. Still annoyed, he shoved his phone in his pocket and followed Cammie away to his Jaguar in a steely silence.
"Edmund?" Cammie pleaded, seemingly realising he had gone a step too far.
Edmund stuck out his lip and continued ignoring.
"You can share the brandy...?"
Edmund sniffed.
"Fifteen quid and a bottle of brandy? Is that all I'm really worth as a sargeant? Or a friend?" he complained angrily.
"Well, my afternoon is still ruined, even without the brandy" Cammie pointed out, as they got in.
"And frankly" the old man carried on, as he started up the engine. "I'd be flattered if Cynthie's willing to get me a bottle of brandy to have you by her side. That woman is determined to ruin my alcoholism."
Edmund's lips curved up-slightly.
"I need to be at Coates Hill Preparatory School For Boys" he told Cammie, a little tightly. "Hawes said you'd know it."
"I do" Cammie smirked, as they pulled away. "I got expelled from it in '74. I can get you there in an hour. Coffee first?"
"Coffee" Edmund agreed, leaning back in the passenger seat. " I'll be needing it. If I'm late, Hawes'll have my head on a spike."
Cammie chuckled knowingly, saying no more.