At the baker's intervention, Bert set the lad back on his feet. He pocketed the pastries.

"Err, Right... Thank ye Mr. Willoughby. I didn't know he was yer lad." Bert apologised, stuffing the warm delicacies into a serge pocket. His words were directed to the man, never the boy. In fact he deliberately avoided eye contact with the youth. He would remember the face though for the future. As for the customer who had reported his wallet stolen, Bert raised a finger to silence his protests. To be fair Bert hadn't see anything, what the baker said could very well be true, everything was hearsay.

"I think this is all a misunderstanding," Bert wasn't going to publicly admit that he made an error, that a stranger had tried to use him for purposes sinister. "There's no harm done. Ere's yer wallet. Take it and move along or you'll be charged with obstructing official police business."

The business of eating pastries.

"Good day, all." Bert quickly retrieved his helmet and retreated from the store.