I'd stayed for a further two hours watching that heap of shit burn. I'd have continued waiting for him to return had I not got a phone call from my uncle. The endless ranting about curfews and the dangers of London bored me, and so I hung up and began to make my way home.

Not that it was really home to me. The pokey little flat on Baker Street simply made me curious, not to mention the man my uncle lived with. He was strange, yet not a scary kind of strange, not the kind of person you wished to keep away from. On the contrary, I wanted to know everything about this enigmatic man. Only I'd been told not to talk to him unless it was necessary.

I left the council estate and after around half an hour of meaningless wandering, I found myself back on the main streets of London. Baker Street was right ahead of me, and I set about kicking my shoes against the corners of the pavement as I made my way towards the flat.

I could see my uncle, John, watching me from the flat window upstairs and I rolled my eyes at him. Hopefully he'd get the hint. But as I put my key in the lock and pushed open the black door, there he was, stood at the top of the stairs. I could feel him staring at me as I shut the door and shrugged off my coat.

"So… You mind telling me where it is you've been all day?" his curt tone made me roll my eyes again. Now was not the time to question me.

"Out" I replied, sounding as bored as I possibly could. "Out? You've been gone since eight this morning, and all you can tell me is that you've been, 'out'?" I could tell he was getting more and more irate. It amused me to no end.

"Things to do, people to see, drugs to sell… The usual" I replied, pushing past him on the stairs. He scoffed, "I don't know why I bother talking to you half the time, you're ridiculously childish" He followed me into the flat, as I chucked my coat with reckless abandon onto the small coffee table. I sat on the green armchair facing the fire and looked at him. Waiting.

John stared at me with venom in his eyes, and I smirked happily. "It's about time you grew up young lady" he hissed. I said nothing and looked on with mild interest, as he snatched up my coat from the table and hung it upon a peg, before marching angrily off into his bedroom.

I giggled. I was good at making people angry. Soft footsteps came from the kitchen, and I looked up to see John's flatmate, Sherlock. He paused and stared at me for a moment.

"You made him angry" he noted.

"One of my hobbies" I retorted. I glanced at him as he sat in the chair opposite me, and noticed he had a small smile on his face.

"You're quite something to behold, aren't you Ruby?" he declared, staring into the fire. I frowned. "What d'you mean?" I examined my fingernails, chipping off the already cracked blue nail polish.

"There's no point trying to act strong. I can see you're really quite vulnerable, though you don't want anyone to realise that. Especially John. This façade you put on isn't fooling anyone. Not me anyway. And I can tell you don't want to go home back to your alcoholic mother, she hurts you"

I stared at him, shocked. How could he possibly know?