There was a long screech. The sound pierced Mrs Holmes' ears. Sherlock had been having private violin lessons for the past 3 weeks and his mother wasn't sure him how much longer she could take it. Each session was £15.00 each, although the Holmes family owned more Money than anyone else on the street, Sherlock wasn't making that much progress for what they were paying.
"No..No..press the bow lightly."
Sherlock purposely put as much force as possible onto the bow.
"Lightly." Mumbled his teacher sternly. She was a young woman with tanned skin and dark hair. Her patience was also wearing thin.
"Like this?" The young boy said sarcastically. Dragging the bow across the curved instrument causing another long screech to echo throughout the large house.
Miss Munkton sighed. "Oh Sherlock...I would appreciate it if you made some kind of effort." She looked down at the curly haired 8 year old and wondered how he could be so cheeky at such a young age.
"Why?" He whined "I have no interest in learning how to play this monstrosity whatsoever!"
"Its a beautiful skill."
"Not really."
"You could make a career out of it."
"Don't want to."
"Girls love a boy who can play an instrument."
"YUCK!"
The young woman let out another elongated sigh "I'm returning in 1 week and I'm expecting you to know this piece."
She passed him 2 pieces of paper plastered in musical notes meant to flow beautifully in a heartfelt song which was bliss to the ears.
He gasped dramatically. "Miss Monkeyton..."
"Munkton!"
"Mother would not want me to play this song!"
"Why not?" The woman asked sounding appalled.
He thought for a moment. "Its against her...beliefs.
..." He Said half-stating-half-asking.
"Which are..."
"Private beliefs." He'd lost this one already.
"Learn it." She ordered. The tall instructor rose from her stool and slammed the door purposefully.
- 3 days later -
"Sherlock...darling."
His mop of unruly curls swayed as he turned to face her.
"Yes, mummy."
"Shouldn't you be practicing? I heard that Miss Monkton gave you strict instructions to learn a piece"
The small boy's thumbs started twitching as he went incredibly coy all of a sudden. He could usually lie to anyone but not his mother, she was immune to his fibs.
"Well...yes."
"Then why aren't you learning it?"
For once Sherlock was silent.
"Its a great thing to learn and you know how proud your father would be if you could play it to him."
Sherlock thought for a while, his greatest desire was to make his father proud which wasn't really easy. "Ok." He mumbled and trudged upstairs.
The small boy dragged the case from beneath his dusty bed and lifted up the lid to reveal the recently polished instrument. His mother took care of the violin better than he did.
He stood up straight and lifted the bow to the instrument. Sherlock took a deep breath making the rest of his body rigid. He dragged the bow across the violin causing an awful creek. "Okay..one more time."
This time there was the usual 'dying mouse sound' he also hear a loud PANG!
The boy's blue eyes opened wide and started to sting with tears. He'd snapped the 'D' string. Sherlock slumped onto his bed and started to blubber wildly whilst hugging his pirate plush toy. "M...M..My...MYCROFT!" He yelled.
His older sibling entered the room calmly. Sherlock was a hysterical boy whom depended on his brother greatly, sometimes to get him out of trouble. "Yes, Sherlock?" He said kindly.
"My v..violin." The young boy sniffed.
Mycroft produced a handkerchief from his suit pocket and handed it to the curly haired boy. "What about it?"
"It's broken and now father's going to shout at me and I can't fix it and I can't learn my piece without it and...and...and..."
"Calm down now, brother dear."
"BUT MYCROFT!" He was in absolute hysterics now.
The older boy Sat beside him rubbing his back gently.
"Don't worry, I can help you fix you're violin."
Sherlock sniffled then peered up at his brother looking hopefull "Y..y..you can?"
"Brothers can do anything." Said Mycroft with a reassuring smile as he got up to go into his room.
"Where are you going My?" He asked quietly.
His reliable older sibling came out of his room with a brand new violin string. "Mummy and I suspected you'd break it." He chuckled.
Sherlock pouted and crossed his arms ready to turn against Mycroft.
"There, there." He said patting the younger boy's shoulder. "Now let's help you learn that piece."
-4 days later-
Sherlock glided the bow across the violin gently completing the song.
"Bravo!" Miss Munkton could barely contain her excitement. "That was magnificent Sherlock!"
"Truly beautiful!" Declared Mrs Holmes.
The young boy nodded acknowledging their comments but what really cared about was impressing his father.
There was a silence in which Sherlock's small face frowned thinking that his father didn't enjoy the performance.
"Sherlock" his father began. The boy's ears perked up. "I am so proud of you."
He ran and wrapped his arms tightly around his father. "I love you, daddy."
"I love you, son."
-27 years later-
John twirled Mary around as Sherlock played the violin softly, everyone was happy and proud of the 35 year old's composing but what he really wanted to do was make John proud, just as he'd made his father 27 years ago. Sadly, he knew that this time, things wouldn't just end in a warm and loving hug.