Two stories going on at the same time! Wow how ambitious am I? hehe Anyway, this is the long promised sequel to 'A Mild Annoyance' by far my best work – I humbly think : ) It's a fic about war, it will be full of heartache and misery, as well as hope and love and it may be quite a long one so I apologise in advance about the length between updates – I write only for your pleasure : ) Please read and review…
Fear and Remembrance.
Chapter One. War is upon us.
War hung like a dark cloud over the great city, I was not often in the city but on the odd occasion when I was I noticed the change in her. She was no longer the gay girl of old, she had become dark and beaten, her inhabitants wandering through their lives with faces as dull and as unfeeling as stone. It was the same for us all, that feeling of lack of hope, a feeling of fear and uncertainty pervaded everything and seeped into everyone. I hated it, that is the reason I did not linger that day in London. I had come up to the capital merely to run a few errands and to see a few housebound patients whose happiness relied on my turning up to remind them of a world that was fast disappearing. I passed women on their way to work and I remembered how they used to look, beautiful and carefree, now they looked tired and old. I averted my eyes and hurried to the house of my first patient. Soldiers passed me as I waited at the front door, children, barely sixteen years old running off to a war they knew nothing about. I had seen war, and nothing could convince me that it was at all glorious; I shook my head in sadness at the waste of their young lives. A young girl with forlorn eyes opened the door and smiled sheepishly, it was Elsie, I knew Elsie, she was a shy, timid thing who had been in the old woman's service practically since she had been born.
"Good morning Elsie," I attempted a breezy tone of voice, but I admit it was becoming more and more difficult.
"Good morning doctor, please come in." Her voice was quiet and she barely lifted her head when she spoke to me. I entered the house, grateful of the warmth. Elsie took my coat and led me to the drawing room; the old lady lay quietly on the sofa. She was not my favourite patient but she had a good heart and I was content to do whatever I could.
"Good morning Mrs. Pearson, how are you?" I spoke more jovially than I felt.
"Better than you Doctor Watson I shouldn't wonder." She answered rather harshly, I smiled, she never was an easy one to fool.
"It's the damn war is all, makes everything a little subdued."
She simply murmured something which I didn't quite catch.
"On important business are you?" She asked her voice full of the strains of age.
"Visiting you is important business Mrs. Pearson."
"Flatterer." She smiled at me and I returned it. I gazed around the room, it was pleasant enough, but dated. All the things she possessed were no longer wanted by the young – or in fact needed by them. A piano stood, long untouched in one corner, a bird cage hung in one corner, empty of life. The room itself smelt of a time long gone, I smiled at the memory.
"No Mr. Holmes?" She asked, her voice rather hopeful. I had brought Holmes with me once and the two of them had struck up quite a conversation, but the war kept him busy and he had not visited since.
"No, I'm afraid not. I rarely see him these days." I knew he was in town visiting his brother but he had not contacted me, so I had not contacted him.
"Interesting man," She continued quietly, "We shall see much more of him before this war is done with."
I nodded in agreement, somewhat shocked at her change in tone. I stayed with Mrs. Pearson for a further hour before I eventually took my leave. I bade Elsie goodbye, who blushed rather prettily at my attentions. It was nice to be noticed by a woman again, I loved Elaine but it was still gratifying. I headed toward Baker Street more for old time's sake than any need. I knocked at the well-remembered door and Mrs. Hudson herself answered it. She was not yet old, barely older than myself, but she too looked tired. She was, I think, glad to see me and ushered me inside.
"Why doctor however did you know?" She asked once I was safely inside.
"Know what Mrs. Hudson?" I asked, thoroughly confused.
"Mr. Holmes Sir, he's upstairs." She practically beamed as she said the words. I must confess I was dumbfounded, Holmes had not lived in London for nearly fifteen years, what on earth was he doing in Baker Street?
"May I go up and see him?" I asked, rather foolishly.
"Of course, doctor. I've no need to announce you have I?" I smiled awkwardly at her and began to ascend the old stairs. Every feeling I had ever felt when climbing these steps in the past rushed back to me and I felt young again, thrilled to be alive and awaiting with an eager anticipation whatever Holmes would put before me. I hesitated outside the door and knocked, feeling for the first time in my life like I had no right there. A voice answered my knock and I entered. The room was much changed. There were no papers, no Persian slipper, and no violin. Nothing save a few chairs and a lone table in the centre of a newly painted room. Sitting on one of the chairs by a newly stoked fire was my old friend, who glanced up as I entered. I think he was shocked for never have I seen a smile so genuine escape his lips in all the time I knew him.
"Why Watson!" he exclaimed rising to his feet and extending his hand, I took it warmly, "Yours is I face I did not expect to see. How did you know I was here and what are doing in London."
He released my hand and waved me to a chair; I took it and smiled at him.
"Pure chance, old fellow. I was visiting a few patients and thought I would stop by to see Mrs. Hudson and she told me you were here. I confess I am more shocked to find you, I thought you busy with state business."
"And so I am Watson. I've convinced Mrs. Hudson to let me have my old rooms for as long as I should need them, its no use using hotels when I'm in London as often as I am just now."
"Are you much involved in the war Holmes?" I asked, intrigued.
"Depends on what you consider involved Watson. I help in whatever why I can, times are desperate after all."
"They are indeed." I sighed and gazed into the fire, the weight of what the country was facing interrupting my thoughts. Holmes noticed my silence,
"Everything alright Watson?" Holmes asked, with something resembling concern in his voice.
"I'm just remembering simpler time Holmes."
"Yes, life has changed since our days together hasn't it?" He smiled thinly at me, his eyes taking on the colours of the fire, "Which reminds me, how is Mrs. Watson, the lovely Elaine." His eyes went back to the paper in his hand but he retained his smile.
"Very well thank you, how did my reminiscing remind you of my wife?" I asked, as always puzzled, when around Holmes.
"She is the link to one of our last cases together." His eyes didn't meet mine.
"Ah yes, the adventure of the silver trinket." I said with a smile. Holmes laughed,
"Hardly a suitable title for the case that brought the realisation of war with it."
"No, I suppose not." My smile had disappeared. Holmes cleared his throat.
"Watson, I may have to go away for a while and I don't know how long I will be gone. I would feel very much honoured if you would have dinner with me tonight, you alone, I do not wish to offend your wife but I would like just your company if you would oblige me." Holmes averted his eyes from me, obviously embarrassed by his request.
"Of course Holmes, anytime and anywhere you wish." My voice remained quiet.
"Wonderful, it will indeed be like old times." His smile warmed me, and struck fear into me. If he was going it was for the war and I couldn't bear the thought of losing him again in my lifetime. I pushed this thought to the back of my mind.
"Come then, we will leave our sadly diminished rooms to Mrs. Hudson's tender care." He spread out his arm to me and led me into the street, we walked together into the cold night and I felt it more keenly than I had ever done before and it was not my age, I had the strongest feeling that this would be the last time me and Holmes would be together for a long, long time.