During the two years in which Sherlock Holmes was believed to be dead a new tenant came to live at 221 Baker Street. This woman was raised in America and then moved to Ireland then Wales. While being in Wales she heard about Sherlock Holmes. Naturally curious about whom this person was she decided to research who he was and where he lived. Then the first summer after Sherlock's death an acquaintance of hers invited her to London for a few weeks. She was free to roam the streets and eventually found Baker Street and made her way to 221. It was as unremarkable as the next building but to her, inside was a treasure trove of information. It was an unfortunate habit of a person who had made most of her living in journalism. She walked up the stoop and knocked on the door.
An older woman opened the door. "What can I do for you dear?" she asked.
The younger woman knew that it had not been long since his death and she was sure this woman had known him well. "Let's just start with names," she said politely. "My name is Kelly O'Malley."
"I'm Mrs. Hudson," the older woman replied. "No there is no more Mr. Hudson but that's the name I'm sticking with." Mrs. Hudson was presently considering all the times at which she'd heard Sherlock call out that name.
Kelly smiled warmly at her. "I'm sorry if I bothered you," she murmured. "I didn't know you were close to him." For a moment she considered that she might also be grieving over another loss so she made sure. "This is where Sherlock Holmes used to live?" Mrs. Hudson pulled out a hankie and nodded. "Oh now I've upset you," Kelly responded with an empathetic frown. "Let me take you to a place for tea."
"Oh," Mrs. Hudson smiled and waved her hankie at her. "You're such a nice young lady. I think he would have liked you. Not that he'd act like it of course." She took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes I think it would be nice to go out for some tea." She opened the door. "Why don't you come inside for a moment while I gather my things?"
"It'd be a pleasure," Kelly replied and took a step through the dark door. Her bright blue eyes took in the entry way and stairs as Mrs. Hudson closed and locked the door behind her. A smile was playing at her lips. "I love old buildings," Kelly said to herself more than anyone. "Sometimes if it's quiet enough you can hear the walls repeating things they've heard." She trailed off.
"What is it you do for a living, Kelly?" Mrs. Hudson asked as they stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Kelly's eyes darted away from the wall and back to Mrs. Hudson. "In Ireland I was a journalist, but I found that news was only ever about old things that never really matter. So I moved to Wales to write children's stories."
Mrs. Hudson looked pleasantly surprised. "Children's stories, you mean like fairytales?" she asked.
Kelly shook her head. "No more like stories about children for children," she said with a smile. "I find that children are so resilient and brutally honest that I want to make sure that stays with them into adulthood."
With a finger pointed at Kelly, Mrs. Hudson smiled. "I like you Kelly O'Malley. If this afternoon goes well I shall have to insist that you return."
"That would make me very happy, Mrs. Hudson," Kelly replied with a smile.
Over the last week of Kelly's stay in London, Mrs. Hudson was able to share things with Kelly that she would have shared with John if he had ever called. Kelly never complained of her chatter and instead listened intently. Sometimes Kelly would talk about a book she had written and how she was hoping it would be published. This caused Mrs. Hudson to exclaim, "Well if I had any children I'd buy it!"
It was during this discussion that Kelly mentioned her friend and colleague that she was staying with in London. This friend had many connections to publishers in London that may be more willing to publish than her contacts in Wales.
"You know I've had a spare apartment that no one really wants to let out," Mrs. Hudson replied. "But if you get a publisher here in London I bet we can fix the place up and make it livable."
"Mrs. Hudson!" Kelly exclaimed beaming radiantly with excitement. "That sounds absolutely delightful. I've always wanted to fix up an old place just the way I like. It'd be a dream I tell you."
Mrs. Hudson clasped her hands and hooted like an overly excited owl. "I shall have noise in 221 Baker Street again," she exclaimed.
Arrangements were made once Kelly found herself a publisher. Kelly spent almost all of her time with Mrs. Hudson, picking out flooring and discussing the best way to keep the place livable. Curtain rods were installed along with a brand new bathroom that actually worked. Then the place was scrubbed clean so the flooring and wallpaper could be placed. Then Kelly moved all of her belongings from Cardiff to Baker Street.
Six whole months had passed since their first meeting. Kelly flew back to the States for the Holidays and didn't return until the end of January. She was not as chipper as she once was. Her family was very dear to her and quite suddenly she fell into a depression. She would stay for days sometimes in her flat without coming out. Mrs. Hudson didn't know if she was working on her story or not. Whenever she went for a visit Kelly would be sitting in the same spot silently staring at her computer screen. They would share tea together and Kelly would barely speak a word.
Mrs. Hudson decided that it was enough that she was well and paying rent and started to visit less and less. Then the two women were separated even though they lived on the same stoop. That was until one evening when Mrs. Hudson was doing her dishes. She heard a noise at the front door. Knowing that Kelly rarely went out now, she grabbed her frying pan and went to see who might be robbing her.
Kelly then heard Mrs. Hudson scream in a way that could mean only one thing. Sherlock Holmes was back.