Little Talks Chapter 1: Prologue:
Walking around the ancient sitting room in the Victorian pile that she had just purchased, Layla looked around the room in a cursory fashion. Everything was covered with drop cloths yellowing with age and more than a few cobwebs; a stout layer of dust covered everything else. Even from the outside, you could tell the place hadn't been used in years.
Her eyes falling on a lump of sheets that looked suspiciously like a chair, Layla walked over and pulled the sheet off carefully. She uncovered the most darling old Victorian chair it looked as though it had at one time been a man's chair, judging by the lines and the upholstery. Continuing to remove the sheet a bit farther, she found a small side table with a small drawer on the front. She sat down and opened the drawer. Looking inside she quickly found an old leather bound book of some sort. Flipping through it, Layla discovered that this seemed to be a personal journal. She flipped through the first few pages. She knew she shouldn't; this was someone else's personal thoughts and ideas….but in her defense, they were long gone by now.
Apparently, the author of the journal was a man named John H. Watson. It seemed as though he had been a doctor and a soldier. Oona smiled as she read the first entry. Dr. Watson was quite an imaginative fellow. She loved reading some of the entries, especially one of the earliest ones from 1881 when Dr. Watson described some of his earliest encounters with Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
Layla began getting tired just an hour or so into her reading; it had been a long day….in truth, it had been a long few weeks. Flipping towards the back of the journal to see what she could find, she found a few blank pages. She grabbed an ink pen from her bag. She knew this was insane and that it wouldn't work.
Breathing deeply, she began to write on one of the blank pages. Starting with the current date, she told the author that she was glad to meet him. There was some general small talk. In closing she thought about the fact that he was a doctor and a soldier in life.
"….And Dr. Watson, I don't know if this will work. But if it does….if you could possibly see a way to do it…..would it be too much to ask for you and your friend, Mr. Holmes, too watch over me. I have no one else….no friends or family….I need someone to watch over me frankly.
Odds are, this won't work in a million years; but I am desperate. I am running for my life and honestly I have nowhere to turn. I have to try. No matter what…Thank you. Thank you if you can help me. And thank you, even if you can't, for leaving your journal here for me to see….."
With that she closed the journal and walked over to the sofa and pulled a blanket out of her bag and curled up on the sofa falling asleep quickly.
