Authors Notes – this has really taken off in unexpected directions. Set BEFORE Observations of a Wife, in the Early Years (days, weeks, months) of Holmes and Watson's acquaintance. A look at some of the events that MIGHT have happened to impel them on their lifelong journey of brotherhood.
Continuing the tradition the story will be from Holmes' POV – lets hope I get it right!
Short chapters, but not drabbles…
Disclaimer – I don't own them, just playing!
Observations of a Lodger
First Notice
I don't believe I've ever met a man quite like him. A professional with no practice, a soldier with no regimental comrades, and an extrovert without friends: my new fellow lodger sits quietly in his corner of our mutual sitting room and scribbles away at letters and his journals.
That is, of course, on the days that I notice his descent from his room at the top of the house. Since coming to these rooms my own practice seems to be gaining speed. I have been afoot a great deal more than I ever was in Montague Street; not because I was avoiding the unappealing state of my lodgings for a change. The new landlady is even stricter than my last, but contrarily also much more accommodating. She is quite annoyed that I don't eat to a regular schedule, and had it not been for her mutterings I would have missed a very valuable insight into my new lodger's character.
In the three weeks that we have been here, he has missed meals eight times, remaining in his room instead. Not unusual for myself, in fact compared to me he is a regular trencherman, however the man is thin enough as it is, and as a doctor is surely aware of the affect that he is having on his own health. More than once I have encountered my new landlady standing at the foot of the stairs leading to his room, an indecisive look upon her face.
She has yet to ascend, having realised, as I did, that the man will brook no interference in his slow recovery; the veterans pride is quite fierce. I offer as an example of this an occurrence in the first few days of our residence, when I believe I mentioned the inconvenience of having packing boxes around the sitting room. I emerged from my room the next morning to discover that the man had been up, apparently all night, unpacking. I believe that was the first time he missed a meal. I was quick to realise that to mention a thing to my fellow lodger was to have him do it, provided it was within his purview. I know myself well enough to know that I could quickly become accustomed to taking shameless advantage of this; let us hope that he rapidly recovers his spine from wherever it has been misplaced or he will be thoroughly under my thumb in no time at all. Should his nerve be irrevocably shattered it may well be better that I find a new lodger, one that will not allow me to take such liberties.
He receives no visitors, no correspondence is delivered to his side of the table, and his health precludes him from going out in the cold and damp air. We will soon be storm bound as a snow front is undoubtedly moving in, making the slick pavements without an impassable obstacle for a crippled soldier. Let us hope that his 'bull pup' and my dumps don't encounter each other when we have no where to retreat to.
All in all, things could be worse in my new rooms. I do wish I'd known that the veteran was such a deucedly dull fellow when I'd agreed to split these rooms with him. If one must be forced into Society, that Society should at least offer some points of interest.
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