Professor Layton and the Angel's Prophecy

A Gentleman In Need

-Fourteen Months Earlier-

Hershel had not realised that he had fallen asleep, but as he saw the blanket draped over him, and the sky outside now tinged with black, he yawned and tried to determine the time from the clock on the mantelpiece, a thin ray of moonlight shining over it.

It looked to be almost eleven, and he began to rise. Sitting up, he stretched and found a smile forming on his lips. Now he remembered what had happened before he drifted off. He entertained Luke with details of his last adventure, and though Luke did contain a twinge of jealousy, he was too gobsmacked by all the exciting things that happened. When hearing of the fake Luke, his mouth dropped and his eyes shone with great anticipation. For his part, Hershel revelled in telling the story, gesturing widely and re-enacting certain scenes. When it was done, Hershel had slumped down of the sofa, exhausted and feeling rather light-headed. Luke hadn't said much, but he seemed to remember Luke wishing him a good night.

A light flicked on in the room to his left, and he spun his head to see it was the light to the dining room, which adjoined to this living room. Brenda walked through into the room, and then she noticed Hershel staring at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you? I didn't mean to."

Hershel calmed her with a slight wave.

"It's quite alright. I had just woken up, actually."

"Oh? You must be feeling better then. Even so, the guest room is all ready for you if you wish to move in there now. You just looked so peaceful there, we didn't want to disturb you."

"I shall go there, and thank you for your hospitality."

Brenda chuckled and echoed his dismissive wave.

"You're always welcome here."

Hershel could see her expression sour, and he just noticed something hidden behind her eyes. She saw him looking and coughed.

"If you wouldn't mind," she murmured. "Is now a good time to speak to you about Luke?"

"Of course."

Hershel moved over into the dining room, where he and Brenda both took a seat facing each other. It was a long while before she spoke, but then she gripped his hands and tears sprang at her eyes.

"Luke," she sobbed quietly. "He's such a lovely boy. Always has been. The only time I've ever seen him get angry was when we... when we told him we were moving. And that's understandable. Anger soon turned to sorrow, and then we thought... we thought he had accepted it. Moved on."

"But he has not?"

She glanced up at him then, an uncertain look in her eyes now. She let go of his hands and took out a handkerchief from her pocket. Wiping her eyes, she took a deep breath and continued.

"It was only small at first – the change that is. He wouldn't say hello or goodbye, please or thank you. His politeness gradually slipped, and this is Luke we're talking about; he learned how to be a gentleman from the top gentleman himself!" Hershel would have smiled, but simply gave her a slight nod so she would continue.

"After the slip in manners, he shut himself off. I know he was like this when you solved the whole spectre mystery in Misthallery. But this was worse. Clark once saw him leaving the house at night, and when he confronted him about it the next morning, Luke said nothing and stormed off to his room. We... were terrified at what had happened to our beautiful boy."

As Brenda fell into a fit of sobbing, Clark entered the room, clearly having just woken up. He began to massage his wife's shoulders and then he pulled her up into a hug. Hershel's mind was troubled. He hated to see Luke this way. When he had first met the young Luke – and not the infant – he had been concerned in a human response, however, after all their time together, this relapse into shutting himself off from the world was painful to Hershel. He knew he would do whatever it took to help Luke. Already, it had begun.