"Mornin, Constable." He glanced over to where the boy was, eying him warily because he saw the look of stark hunger in his eyes. He knew that look because he'd once looked that way. He frowned and glanced toward his customers, taking care of them quickly enough. By the time he looked back, the boy was being hauled outside for thieving.

"Constable, wait. I think he was just about ta pick the wallet up and hand it over ter me fer lost and fount. He's me new apprentice, see? Right, boy?" And then he shoved a few pastries he'd seen the constable eyeballing, into a bag, and then handed the bag to the man, "How about ye have these fer yer taking yer time to check me boy out? Make sure he's doin' right by the law, right boy?"

Angus' smile evaporated when the baker stepped in. What the hell was going on? He thought. He was gonna let the bastard off? What? Angus did it for him, people like him. The boy was obviously a menace. What the hell was the baker doing?

"Constable, I want to press charges against this guttersnipe what stole my wallet." Angus said. He wasn't going to let this happen. The boy would pay for stealing - from whoever he stole something from. Angus knew he had done it sometime some place.

Having absolutely no idea what the hell was going on, either by the constable strongarming him or the baker saving his ass, all Caelan could do was say "Yes sir" to each of the baker's questions.  Apprentice?  To a baker?  FOOD!  Absolutely sir, anything you wish sir!   Caelan thought.  Suddenly, he smiled at the man.  He didn't understand it, but he hoped it was a good thing that he might make him his apprentice.  Caelan decided the baker wasn't like Sweeney Todd, who he had heard about.  And if it was just for show in front of the constable, he would plead his case to the baker, so he could be his apprentice.  Food.  That's really all he cared about.  So he looked nervously at the constable to see what his decision would be.  He gave a very angry look at the stranger who obviously started whatever was happening.  What did he do to him?  Who was this guy and why did he hate him so much?

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.

He nodded to the officer and stepped out. The baker then turned to the man with the wallet and he said, "Aye, there's been a misunderstandin' is all..." He absently reached for his lunch, the one that his wife may or may not have packed. He curled his lips in defiance at eating the fare, thought about giving it to the lad for him to eat but decided against it. He had a hard enough time eating the food she made, but he politely did so in front of her when presented with whatever concoction she had come up with, dutifully swallowing half-raw, half-burnt chicken or some kind of meat and enduring the worst of side effects as quietly as he could possibly get away with. And he wasn't about to subject that poor boy to that torture. Instead, he waited until all the customers had cleared before taking a freshly baked sticky bun to the kid.

"Ey, ye look like ye're about to eat me arm off, lad. Eat somethin'." He offered the treat. "And then we'll talk." As for the man who was disrupting things, he moved closer to that one and said, "I dunno what ye think ye're about, but I didn't see no pickpocketin'. Leave 'im be." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"He pickpocketed me before he came into the store." Angus said, his temper obviously climbing. "You bribed the officer. I'm reporting you for bribing him and I'm reporting him for accepting the bribe. It begins with pastry, but then it soon escalates to cash payments. That's all Whitby needs is a corrupt police force. Oh, why am I wasting my time on you." He quickly went after the corrupt law enforcement officer, repeating that he wanted to press charges and that no bribery would stop his case.

When the baker offered the pastry to Caelan, he quickly took it and mumbled as he drooled over such a splendid delicacy: "Thankye sir." He quickly ate the pastry in case the baker should change his mind and tell the copper he had stolen it instead. After all, there couldn't be a crime if there ain't no evidence. He quickly wiped the sugar from his mouth with the both sleeves of his jacket. Problem was he was still hungry and he wasn't offered anything to drink.

He followed the baker and very timidly asked: "I'm terribly sorry for bothering you sir, but can I have something else. I'm frightful hungry and thirsty sir. Can I have some water please?" He stepped back closing his eyes and bowing his head, afraid the baker might slap him for being so rude.

Andrew merely shook his head at the man, saying nothing as he watched him leave. Good riddance to the man. He rolled his eyes when the man turned his back to do so. To the boy, he sighed and nodded. "I've got plenty. 'Ere, have a pastie," he said and handed the meat-and-potato-and-gravy-filled hand pie over. It was made with sage and a touch of rosemary, salted but not too salty, and peppered. The crust was egg washed to make for a glossy, golden sheen on the pastry, which was pinched to perfection at the edges and steam still rose from the three holes cut into the crust in order to keep it from being soggy. He then nodded toward the bucket of boiled and cooled water and the ladle that was hanging from the rim. "Help yerself to the water," he moved to lock the door and flip the closed sign for the moment.

"Now... I was like ye when I was a kid. Me parents both died when I was a boy. I took to the streets. I used ta try and steal me next vittles wherever and whenever I could. But then I got caught by a baker, rummagin' through his bin and even tryin' ta sneak a pastry from his shop. He gave me a chance ta do better for meself, and I wanna do the same for ye. I ain't gonna ask ye if ye stole that wallet, but I don't agree wit' thievin' anymore and would appreciate it if ye didn't, and if ye decide ye want ta be me apprentice, ye must earn yer keep. Ye can live in the apartment above the shop, twas mine affore I married. Ye'll have ta meet me Missus too." To at least assure her that this time it was a lad and there was nothing for her to worry about in that regard. He had learned his lesson about offering apprenticeship to a lass. Rose did not like that one bit.

He sighed, hunkered down and grabbed his lunch. He opened it up to see what it was and gulped. Well. Down the hatch.

Caelan opened his eyes and looked up at the baker when he offered him a "pastie."  He wasn't going to hit him?  He grabbed the pastry out of the baker's hand. "Thankye sir, thankye." He said.  And quickly started eating it.  Hey, was that meat?  Was this a meat pie?  Was Mrs. Lovett ever married?  And whatever happened to him if she was?  Caelan went to get some water, but he kept an eye on the baker.  He decided he might have to keep count of the cats and dogs around the bakery, just in case.  And of course, the odd human.  Just in case.  In the meantime, he got himself a cup of water and ate the meat pie hungrily.  

As he did he heard what the baker told him and couldn't believe it.  An apartment above the shop?  Hey, there had to be more than just him who would live in there, he thought.  It would still be better than the dusty and dirty house he currently lived in.  

"How many people would I share the apartment with, guv'nor?"  Caelan asked.  He didn't mean to be rude.  He felt it was a fair question to know what to expect.  There was no question he would accept the offer.  He really had no choice and the baker knew it.  And Caelan knew the baker knew it.  "I'm grateful for your genrous offer, sir.  Really I am.  But I have some questions, sir, if you don't mind." He had to know what he was getting himself into.  He had to understand what was expected of him and what he could expect to get in return.  "Would I get any wages sir, or would I just get a place to sleep and food to eat?  And what do you want me to do in return sir?  I don't mind sir, really I don't.  I just wanna know what to expect sir.  Hope you don't mind me asking." If he didn't like what he was told, he felt he could still stay in the dirty and cold house.  No matter what, he thought it would have to be larger than the apartment no matter how clean and warm it might be.

As he finished eating the meat pie, he had to say: "Hmm, that was delicious sir.  Absolutely amazing.  What kind of meat was that, sir?"  While he didn't expect to hear it was a certain kind of cat or dog, he was wondering what the baker would tell him about it. "And when do I start, sir? I could start now, if you want. Well after I drink me water I mean."

"Aye," he grunted and bit into his lunch after procrastinating. He did his best to eat what he was given, wishing he had a dog so he could slip the lunch to it instead. When the boy started asking questions, he gladly put his food down and turned to answer questions... "Just ye... what is yer name, lad?" Then at his next question, the man said, "Ye'll get room and board to start wit', and after a mont' or so and I see ye werkin and learning, ye'll get wages. Ye'll start in the mornin' affore the roosters start ta crow. We got bread to make."

He pushed his food off to the side and grabbed a pasty for himself. "Help yerself to another, I know ye're hungry." He cleared his throat and took a healthy bite of the pastry, answering between bites, "It's lamb, potatoes, and gravy."