I was angry. Not least at the fact that the man I thought was my best friend had just turned up after being 'dead' for two years, wearing a ridiculous fake moustache and asking stupidly if mine rubbed off too!
And the sheer nerve of the man, sitting opposite me (in Mary's seat, not that I minded that she ended up sitting on my lap) and drinking my champagne, but then he just had to insult my facial hair!
Mary giggled. She would, she has a lovely sense of humour, and when we finally left him standing on the pavement as we drove off I could barely believe my ears when she said she liked him! None of my girlfriends ever liked him….. She truly is one in a million.
It would seem though that Sherlock hadn't finished trying to ruin my night, because he chose that night to discover the joys of hard spirits.
Mrs Hudson phoned, worried and apologetic. Could I just come over and make sure he's okay.
He was of course, how could I doubt it? I walked in to find him sitting in his usual chair, waiting for me, a stupid grin on his face.
"John! I see you brought you moose-tache to visit!"
Yes, he pronounced it just like that. So I confiscated his brandy!