1876 Constantinople, Turkey
"Dearest Sherlock, do not play with me! Gerald isn't to return for at least another week. Why must you leave tomorrow?" The woman, elaborately attired in a shockingly low-cut and lavishly trimmed blood-red ball gown raised her face appealingly to the gentleman standing close to her under a rose arbour in the garden of the British Embassy.
Her companion was a tall, darkly handsome young man, impeccably dressed in exquisitely tailored Rocola eveningwear, which, despite his youth, he wore with a careless ease. He replied, his voice sonorous in the quiet twilight of the garden, "I deeply regret that I must Irene, I wish I could stay." Lord Holmes raised her fingers to his lips, "But there is important work for me to do in England."
"What work? We here well know that you were sent by the Prime Minister only for the purpose of convincing the Queen that he is taking her fears of Russian expansion seriously – which he is not. But regardless, your mission is accomplished so let us enjoy ourselves!"
Lord Holmes gave a low laugh, "You don't flatter me Irene! Nevertheless, although it pains me deeply, I must leave. You know I will treasure, always, the memory of our time together in this beautiful city. Truly, Constantinople is the only city in the world that is a worthy backdrop for your own incomparable beauty."
The couple was not aware that a sandy haired youth, to all appearances just a boy, was perched silently above the arbour in one of the many ornamental cedars that surrounded the garden, listening to the exchange below. John, the observer in the tree, hadn't intended to eavesdrop. He often came to this place to think when he needed peace and quiet. The scent of the ever-blooming roses soothed him; reminding him of his mother, now long dead. He was not accustomed to company.
Distractedly, for John had his own troubles on his mind, he wondered at the gentleman's extravagant compliments to Lady Adler. Foolish fellow, he thought. Lady Adler might appear sweet and genuine in her affections but she was, in fact, not only the most unfaithful of the diplomats' wives staying at the embassy but also a ruthless schemer. If Lord Holmes thought he was enjoying just another of his many highly gossiped-about affairs with simply a bored diplomat's wife, he was seriously mistaken.
Not surprising though, reflected John. He might be handsome but rumour had it that Lord Holmes was more interested in frippery than diplomacy and was sent to various outposts of the empire, not on errands of importance but rather for the purpose of keeping him out of trouble in London. His missions were meant to appease the head of the Holmes family, the Marquis of Bosham, who insisted his cousin should be kept occupied. Such was young Lord Holmes' reputation that when the news of his imminent arrival had reached the embassy, one of the more senior diplomats had snorted out a laugh and commented, "Holmes? That vacuous clotheshorse? We must be out of favour indeed." Lady Adler, however, had perked up at the news of Lord Holmes' visit with a calculating look in her dark eyes. Although what she might want with Lord Holmes, beyond the obvious, John couldn't imagine.
The two below John in the garden were now locked in a passionate embrace which caused John to look away in irritation. Of all places, why had they chosen the location that he considered to be his sanctuary for their illicit liaison? Not that he wanted to examine the cause of his annoyance, after all, what did he care who Lord Holmes chose to give his obviously exceptional kisses to? (Obviously exceptional based on the sighs emanating from Lady Adler). The information he had overheard regarding Lord Holmes travel plans was invaluable to him.
A sudden spill of light and laughter from the ballroom of the embassy interrupted the dark quiet of the garden as someone opened one of the many French windows to let in the cool evening air. The disturbance interrupted the two lovers in the rose garden. They pulled apart quickly, obviously not wishing to be seen in an intimate entanglement and turning they began to make their way back inside.
Out in the once more dim silence of the garden, John moved for the first time in many minutes, wincing in pain as the bark of the tree scraped his raw back and bruised legs and arms. He tried to ignore the pain and the suffocating sense of shame that washed over him as he struggled to move. Why had he never been able to stand up to his stepfather, he wondered? He despised himself for the weakness and fear that he felt in the presence of the man. John was seventeen now, almost eighteen, not a boy anymore, but still he felt powerless to defend himself when confronted with his stepfather's aggressive hatred for him. Blinded by shame, however, John failed to recognize his own overwhelming disadvantage relative to his stepfather including the smallness of his stature, as much a result of childhood neglect as familial inheritance, and his near constant state of injury including a chronic limp, disabled shoulder and a debilitating tremor in his left hand.
Never mind, he thought fiercely as he made his way slowly from the cedar to the apple tree that overhung the embassy's garden wall. Tomorrow, if everything went as planned, he would escape Constantinople aboard Lord Holmes' sleek private yacht the Wind Shadow to a safer and better life. The yacht was now moored at the city's busy docks but as John had just heard she would tomorrow be setting sail for England. He intended to be onboard, well hidden and safe at last from his stepfather before she began the first leg of her journey home. He had no time for morose thoughts; he must move quickly to make his preparations for the trip and say goodbye to Molly.
Landing on the drive as ably as he could, given his injuries, and staying well inside the shadow of the wall John made his way home. He lived with his stepfather, Major Williams, who was in charge of the Guard for the British embassy. The major had reached this disappointing career-low after failing at a series of more important positions due to his excessive drinking. Always cruel, he was now a bitter, violent man who took his frustration out on his gentle stepson. His treatment of John had not gone unnoticed in the small British community in the city but few were willing to openly censure the Major's behaviour. He held what was still an important position at the embassy and, in a time when the threat of Russian invasion was very real, no one wanted to risk crossing Major Williams.
No one, that is, except Molly Hooper. Molly was the daughter of the doctor posted to the embassy and John's only friend. She had done all that she could to help John during their growing-up years, providing him with meals and medicine from the dispensary as often as she could. They shared a mutual passion for medical science, which provided the only joy John had in his restrictive life.
When he reached his home, John gathered his jacket and a blanket and forced his sore feet into the only pair of boots he owned. He had no money to take with him but he had three pieces of his mother's jewellery carefully sewn into the lining of his canvas jacket; a locket containing her picture, a small diamond ring and a crescent moon diamond brooch, the latter especially treasured because it had been a gift to her from her beloved first husband, John's father. They were all John possessed in the world; he had found them years ago at the bottom of a long forgotten trunk in their small attic and had kept them a carefully guarded secret from his stepfather ever since.
Without wasting a single backward glance at the drunkenly passed-out Major, John left their quarters for the last time. He made his way to the surgery door where Molly was waiting for him with a packet of food and a flask of water.
"If you are careful John, this is enough for three days, long enough to get you to Athens," she whispered. Then overwhelmed, she choked, "Are you sure John? Maybe this isn't a good idea. What if you're caught? It might be even worse than…" at this she trailed off.
He tried to reassure her, "Don't worry. You know how careful I am Molly. I will be fine. I'll send word as soon as I get to England, I promise."
Molly gave him a brave smile and nodded, unable to speak. With a final whispered thank you, he kissed her cheek and turned in the direction of the harbour, vanishing quickly from her sight in the now dense darkness.
