Fourteen year old John Watson sat alone in the cafeteria, keeping his head down in his book- 'Life, the Universe and Everything' by Douglas Adams. He wasn't too keen on this new school. Well, the school wasn't bad, St Bart's was meant to be the 5th best school in the city. It was the kids he wasn't keen on; they were rough and John was new. He'd moved school three times before and knew that the first day was usually the worst. Get through the first day and you'll be fine, John thought. So far the day had been uneventful, but John had had his guard up all day. Now he was engrossed in his book: Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect were chasing a sofa across a field. John was relaxed until he felt a hand clap on his shoulder and his book was yanked out of his hands. John stood up abruptly in a small surge of rage, facing the taller boy that was smirking in front of him.

"Give me my book back please."

John recognised the boy from his English class earlier. Anderson, that's what the teacher had said in the register. John recognised him as one of the boys who had sniggered when John was introduced to the class. He was currently stood with three of his mates, who had also laughed. John's anger rose slightly as Anderson smirked and held the book above his head.

"You want it back? You're going to have to try and reach it!"

John looked up at Anderson's sneering face. He was a head taller than John; he knew he wouldn't be able to reach. John glared up at the boy.

"Can I have my book back please?"

John spoke calmly and softly but his voice quivered.

"Ooh, is little Jonny getting upset that we stole his booky wooky? I bet it's his only friend! That's why he had to move school, they didn't want him anymore, he was a waste of space!"

Anderson and his friends laughed as John's face went red and his head sunk lower. John stepped towards Anderson and attempted to reach for the book but it was lifted higher; John stood on tiptoes while the other boys laughed. A crowd had gathered around the commotion and it felt like the whole cafeteria was laughing. John felt humiliated, but he didn't want to let this stupid boy win. He jumped and managed to grab the book, pulling Anderson's arm down with it. He gripped the bully's arm and twisted it; Anderson let out a scream and released his grip on the book as John yanked it free. John was almost grinning at his success until he felt his arms being roughly pulled backwards. Two of Anderson's mates held his arms back as the bully stood up straight, rubbing his arm. The boy's face turned to a sinister sneer as John's turned to panic.

"You're gonna pay for that you little shit…"

John swallowed and tensed up as Anderson approached, prepared for the blow.

A loud voice bellowed across the hall:

"What's going on here?"

John felt his arms be released as he and Anderson looked around for the owner of the voice. He wasn't hard to miss; a tall, well-built man made his way through the crowd of children and stopped directly in front of John and the others.

"I said, what is going on here?"

John looked over at Anderson who had his head down, looking at the teacher's shoes. John cleared his throat.

"Um… well I was just…"

John caught Anderson glare up at him in the corner of his eye and saw Anderson's friends crack their knuckles menacingly.

"I was just, we were… just messing around a bit sir. Having a joke."

John looked down, ashamed that he had lied. He couldn't risk telling the truth in front of Anderson, he would end up dead by the end of his first day. The teacher nodded, although his face showed that he didn't truly believe John's story.

"Very well. As long as it was just a joke."

With that, the teacher looked sternly at Anderson who nodded rapidly.

"Yeah it was sir. Promise."

The teacher didn't look impressed but nodded curtly and turned to walk away, however he stopped and looked back at John with a concerned glance.

"If you need anything lad, my office is in C-block. I'm Mr Sholto by the way." The teacher said with a hinting look in his eye. John nodded at Mr Sholto and the large teacher walked away. As soon as he was out of sight, Anderson turned square to John's face. His fist grabbed a handful of John's shirt and the smaller boy backed up until his legs hit the table behind him.

"You tell anyone and you're dead, understand?"

John nodded. Anderson released his shirt and walked out of the cafeteria with his friends, the crowd had dispersed when Mr Sholto arrived so John was alone again. Great start to a new school. Already have my own private band of bullies… John thought. He sighed, picked up his dishevelled book off the floor, packed his lunch in his bag and headed off to D-block. Biology. At least that was something to look forward to.

The next day, the morning went without a hitch, although John was almost blamed for throwing a paper aeroplane at the teacher's head in maths. He was let off, thanks to… Well, he wasn't really sure who. A mysterious low voice had piped up from the back of the classroom.

"It wasn't the small neglected blonde kid, it was Donovan. The ink smudges on her right hand match the ones on the paper aeroplane. Obvious."

The teacher looked incredulous but the teacher checked nevertheless and the mysterious boy was proved right. The whole class tutted and sighed, so John guessed that this must happen a lot. John's seat at the front of the class was too far away to see who the boy was, so he tried his luck at the end of the lesson. John craned his neck to see around the kids flocking out into the corridor for lunch but could only catch a glimpse of a mop of curly black hair swooping out of the classroom. John was curious and intrigued. How had the boy known all that? John walked through the corridor, peering over the other kids' heads to make sure he could still see the curly mop to follow. John wasn't just curious, he wanted to say thanks as well, and also find out how the boy was so clever and why he was so mysterious. The mop turned left out of the block and onto the field; John followed quickly and just caught the boy gliding around the corner of the fence, along the nature trail. John had heard that the nature trail went around the outsides of the fields at the back of the school. Was the boy just going for a walk? John peeked round the fence and stopped suddenly, as he saw the mop had stopped. He was talking in hushed tones to a group of older lads leaning against the fence smoking. One of the lads passed him something; the boy nodded thanks and continued along the trail. John waited a moment before following, keeping his head down as he passed the group of lads. John had only had his head down a moment but when he lifted it, the mop of curly hair had gone. John stopped in the corner of the field and looked around. He could see all the way back to the curve in the fence where the lads were smoking- the boy couldn't have gone that way, he would have had to have passed John. He could also see round the rest of the field up to the next corner- even if the mop had sprinted he couldn't have made it in that time. John Watson stood puzzled. A weird thought came to him that the boy was a ghost but he quickly dismissed it in favour of rational logic. There must be a secret path or something. John continued slowly along the trail, looking down at the floor by the trees on his left until he saw something: A thin slab of concrete lay next to the path. John stepped onto it and saw amongst the bushes some more concrete. Steps. They led down the embankment, through the trees. It was very well hidden; John wouldn't have seen it had he not been looking for it. He stooped to avoid the branches and steadily made his way down the steps and into a clearing. John was shocked at what was hidden there. A large pond filled the clearing in the shape of the number 8. It had a quaint wooden bridge propped over the middle and reeds and flowers sprung up around the edges. A wooden bench sat on the right of the pond as the sun poked through the gaps in the trees. John felt like he had just arrived in Narnia! No-one knew about this place, except him and the boy. The boy. John regained his senses and looked around the picturesque scene for the mop of dark curls. He quickly spotted them crouched by the opposite side of the pond, frozen looking into the water- the boy wasn't moving an inch. John stepped forward hesitantly and cleared his throat softly; still the boy remained motionless.

"Excuse me, I hope I'm not interrupting."

John spoke mildly. The curly haired boy stayed statue-like by the side of the pond. John would have sworn he was a statue until he spoke.

"Yes, you are interrupting."

John blushed red.

"Oh I'm sorry to bother you. I'll just…"

John turned to go but stopped when the statue stood up straight and looked at him with bright blue eyes.

"I'm done now. Do you have a net?"

John stood puzzled as the boy looked expectantly at him. He hadn't really noticed what the mop had said, instead John was trying to work out why the boy was wearing a thick winter coat on such a warm day. John was shook out of his wonder when the taller boy moved across the bridge.

"I said do you have a net? I need to examine a specimen I found in the pond but I don't have anything to catch it with. Newts can be fairly fast and if you don't handle them correctly then they could die and they are an endangered species, particularly the Great Crested Newt- Triturus Cristatus- so I wouldn't want to kill any, do you have a net then?"

The boy seemed to speak in one breath and it took John a moment to work out what was said.

"Uh, no I don't sorry."

The other boy tutted.

"Pity. May I borrow your blazer?"

John nodded absent minded and passed his blazer over to the strange boy. He was still enthralled at the speed that the boy had reeled the information off.

"Wait… Hey! What are you doing?!"

John looked up to see the boy dipping his blazer in the pond. He rushed across the bridge and crouched down next to the boy.

"What are you doing? I only got this blazer yesterday! Mum'll kill me!"

The other boy didn't stir.

"I'm catching newts, didn't you listen? Plus, your mum won't kill you. She'll be fine and wash it for you, if I were you I'd worry about what your dad will say when he gets in, unless of course he's distracted by your drunk older sister in which case you'll be off the hook. You can hope."

John stared at the boy with his mouth wide open in shock. The mop continued swirling the blazer through the water and spoke without looking up once at John.

"We're not catching flies John, we're catching newts you can close your mouth now."

The boy spoke without expression yet his voice was strangely endearing.

"H… How did… you know all that? How did you know my name?!"

Despite the boy's advice, John's mouth still hung open.

"I paid attention. Your school clothes are new and half ironed, suggesting that your mother started the ironing but didn't quite finish- so she cares about you enough to spend time ironing your clothes but something more important came up to cause her to abandon the ironing, probably an issue with an older sibling- your sister based on the hand me down backpack. So, what could your older sister do that would cause your mother to abandon her ironing? Something quite bad but not something that hasn't happened before otherwise she would have left the iron on top of the clothes in a rush and burnt them. Your sister had come home drunk before. Drunk? Of course, you have her old backpack, the straps are wearing at the top from being pulled downwards by the heavy objects placed in the bag- books aren't heavy enough to do that so most likely it was caused by glass bottles, alcohol. The only person who would carry alcohol in a school backpack must be alcoholic. Where does your sister get the alcohol from? Your mum is too caring to leave any laying around the house so it must be your dad then, so your dad leaves alcohol around the house meaning he doesn't really care about his children's welfare and therefore I'd be more worried about what he'll say when he finds out he has to spend £30 of his booze money on a blazer for you."

John stood still, gobsmacked. The boy continued to use the blazer as a net while John stumbled across to the bench, letting his brain register what was just said. After a few minutes of silence, save the swirling of water, John's mouth moved into gear.

"That was… incredible."

The curly haired boy looked up from the water with a puzzled expression. It was clearly an expression his face didn't seem to agree with as it cause his face to screw up- he didn't wear it often.

"Really?"

John nodded as the taller boy sat down beside him on the bench.

"Honestly, I've never seen… heard anything like it. It was bloody brilliant!"

John's eyes were lit up as he looked over at the boy. The boy's puzzled look had turned back into his blasé straight face.

"Well… thank you John."

The boy smiled, John frowned.

"How do you know I'm called John?"

He smiled expectantly, hoping for another spectacular answer. The other boy smiled softly.

"It's written in your blazer."

John couldn't help but giggle as the other boy smiled cheekily at him.

"What's your name then anyway? I haven't got your blazer to hand."

Curly mop haired boy smiled.

"Sherlock Holmes."

John outstretched his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock took his hand and shook it, then stood up immediately and turned his coat collar up against the non-existent wind.

"It's the end of lunch. I'll have to catch the newt tomorrow. Remember to bring a net John."

Sherlock spoke as he strode across the bridge with John jogging behind.

"Why do I have to bring a net? Who even says I want to come here tomorrow?"

John asked the questions as a matter of defiance but he really did want to go there again tomorrow, he just didn't want to be told what to do. Sherlock grinned as he walked back along the trail towards the school. John Watson would be there tomorrow, he was sure. What he wasn't sure of was why he was feeling happy about it. Sherlock Holmes was feeling compassion, cue the end of the world, he thought. Sherlock turned his thoughts away from his feelings.

"Race you to PE?"

With that, Sherlock took off running along the path as John tore up behind him, laughing for the first time in weeks.