Tom Thumb

1-Philosophy-And Skiving.

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."