Professor Layton and the Memories Of A Time Gone By

3. Next Stop... Dropstone!

Hershel smiled as he placed his head against the window of the train. Not just any train, however, but the Molentary Express. The famous train that has often been called 'a cruise ship on rails'. Hershel was an aquaintance of the owner, Mr Beluga, and so the ticket had been free. The same was not said for Dimitri Allen though. Although he knew Layton, Dimitri was a stranger. Friend or not, he still had to pay.

Hershel yawned and turned his attention away from the stunning scenery outside. The sun was setting and the light had cast a beautiful orange glow over the hilltops and the valleys near Dropstone. Normally this would have taken Hershel's breath away, but now he only felt a twinge of sadness. He remembered a time where he had went for a picnic with Claire on a hilltop much like the ones he could see outside. The memory only served to bring tears to his eyes, and he quickly wiped those away before Dimitri would notice. Better to let him believe I am coping fine. Hershel thought, examining the well-kept man beside him.

Dimitri had claimed that he was a mess inside, but he seemed to be full of energy on the outside. His chattering was ceaseless, talking incessantly about the mystery, providing outlandish theories that had Hershel raising his eyebrow more than a few times.

He had several interesting findings during his own mini investigation, but other than that, he was a wild card. Hershel found it hard to focus through much of it. His mind was elsewhere, and as much as he would have liked to have indulged Dimitri, he could not see how it was possible. He had enough on his plate!

Then again, maybe Allen is just as distraught as me. Hershel considered, reflecting on how deeply he was struggling inside, but he kept a professional and calm appearance on the surface.

He glanced down at his tea cup sitting untouched on the saucer on the table in front of him. Hershel would never have allowed it to go cold at any other time, but now he didn't care. It was as if all his thoughts were focused on the whirlwind of memories he was reliving in his head.

The long walks with her, the many picnics, trips to romantic and exciting places and the times they just went for some tea and talked. These were simple things but they meant the world to him. He clung to those memories tighter than anything and he refused to let them go.

Dimitri noticed Hershel's gaze, vacant eyes staring into the tea and he frowned. He had thought it was rather odd that Hershel had not touched it, but his own vanity had gotten in the way. It didn't seem right that Hershel Layton, a great admirer of tea would just leave a magnificent cup like that untouched. He realised now that Hershel was not as attentive to the case as he had thought. His sudden interest in the case had taken him aback, but at the same time he was delighted. Hershel may never recover if I don't do something, he had thought just a few days back. Perhaps a mystery is what he needs.

And, rather selfishly, what I need. But I can't tell him that just yet.

And so a mystery he found. Of course, it couldn't just be any mystery. This had to be on the level of the great Professor Layton himself. A mystery that would spawn headlines and only serve to boost acknowledgement of Hershel's abilities. The mystery had to be spectacular!

He didn't quite think that Hershel would just suddenly adapt and be fine again. but he didn't think that he would be this quiet either. He needed this! He needed Hershel if he was to get better himself. Curse you, Layton! Snap out of this!

He considered what he was going to say when their cabin door slid open gently and Flora stepped in with a tray holding three cups on it.

"Ah, Miss Reinhold. You're back. I must say, you went to get this tea almost fifteen minutes ago."