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Chapter 2
The taxi drew up and they got in. As soon as they drove away, Sherlock was full of questions. "What will she call me?"
"Sherlock, I imagine."
"And what will she call you?"
"Uncle John."
"When was the last time you saw her?"
"Ages. Can't remember."
"Do you know anything about teenagers?"
"No, not really!" They giggled.
The cab drew up by a large children's home. "There we are. You stay here, Sherlock."
John pressed the doorbell. A little pause, then a pinched and judgmental-looking woman opened the door.
"Hi," said John, "I'm here for Laurinda."
"You better come into my office," said the woman, raising an eyebrow.
"Tea?"
John blushed, then felt twice as embarrassed for blushing. "No, thanks."
"Hmm. Anyway, I'm sure there's no problem with you taking Laurinda today. But Dr Watson, can you actually look after a child?"
John nodded. "Yeah. We've got the space, I love her- she's my niece, after all- and I can't imagine it being anything more than a temporary arrangement."
"That's where you're wrong, Dr Watson. Laurinda's mother was hospitalized for alcoholism. We legally can't return her to her mother."
"Ah."
"Is that a problem? I thought it was made clear."
John quickly realised that if he didn't take in his niece she would go to foster family. "Yes, yes, of course. I knew that."
"Good. Right, I'll just get her."
"Is there anything I should know before I meet her?"
"You grew up with her mother, yes? I don't think there's much you really need to know."
Laurinda stepped through the door and sat down next to John. "We need to go," he said, "I've got a taxi running outside."
"OK- you've signed all the forms, so you're good to go," said the social worker.
As they walked to the taxi John looked at Laurinda. She had enormous brown eyes hidden behind thick round glasses. Her hair was long and brown, and in a long French pleat down her back. She had a blue and white horizontal striped top and a long wool skirt. John had read somewhere that all these were reliable indicators of her being a 'hipster'.
"Know anywhere good to get a cappuccino, Uncle John?"
Oh, thank God, he thought, I'm Uncle John. "Yeah, there's a great place right next to the flat."
"Cool."
They got in the taxi. Laurinda looked immediately to Sherlock. "Who's this?" she demanded.
John held his breath. Oh hell. He completely forgot to mention Sherlock. "Sherlock."
"OK, Uncle John. That's cool with me, I mean, mum's..."
"No! Sorry. I'm not gay. Dunno about Sherlock-"
"I'm married to my work," cut in Sherlock.
"OK," said Laurinda.
There was a pause.
"He's a detective," said John.
"The world's only consulting detective," Sherlock added.
"Cool," murmured Laurinda.
The rest of the journey was silent.