Prompt for the 2nd of December from Domina Temporis - Someone has an important announcement to make

I had been in a state of depression for some weeks and I know that my dear wife was becoming increasingly troubled by the change in me. While I felt terribly guilty for being so miserable at a time of year when one is supposed to be jolly and thankful, and to celebrate with one's family, my heart remained heavy after the demise of my intimate friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, at the Reichenbach Falls.

For how long I had remained in that state, I cannot honestly say, for it had been a gradual process and not an immediate reaction. I should like to think that Mary noticed my decline into a rather Holmes-like black mood and saw fit to stop it in its tracks before it had an opportunity to go on for too long, but that could be very far from the truth indeed. I can tell just how my darling wife succeeded in bringing my black fit to an end, however, for that I do remember only too well.

I had spent the morning of Christmas Eve in my study, writing a story from my journals in an effort to return Holmes to me, if just for a short while. It was an unhealthy practice, but it seemed to make me feel better, while the work lasted, and I believe Mary was just relieved to hear me laugh from time to time, as I came to something that amused me.

"John," she called through the door of my study, at three o'clock that afternoon. "I should like for you to stop writing, now. We are to have guests arriving, soon after four o'clock; could you dress for company and join me in the drawing room?"

My dear wife had not expressed any interest in giving a party, that Christmas, and I was somewhat intrigued, albeit also just a little put out. I did have a mind to ask her why she had said nothing before, but, for the sake of the day, I obeyed her wishes without bad humour.

The first of the guests to arrive was Tobias Gregson. He came bearing a bottle of port.

"Merry Christmas, Doctor Watson, Mrs. Watson," said he, as he stepped inside the drawing room. "I'm not too early, am I?"

Lestrade arrived next, with a basket of fruit. He remarked upon how beautiful the Christmas decorations were and what a fine job my wife had done.

Slowly, the house filled with friends that I had made through my acquaintance with my absent friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Some of the policemen sat awkwardly, while others chatted away.

The Yarders stayed for dinner - which made it much merrier than it would otherwise have been. By this time, everyone was talking cheerfully and the awkwardness in the company was completely gone.

Just before the pudding was due to be brought in, Lestrade stood up.

"We've got an announcement to make," said he, with an awkward sweep about him at his colleagues. "Doctor Watson, on behalf all of those who work at the Yard, I want you to know that you will always find friends in the official police force. If there's ever anything that you need..."

"If you ever become bored and miss working in association with Scotland Yard, you can always take the position of police surgeon," Gregson interrupted, somewhat impatiently.

Lestrade turned to glare at him with his hands on his hips. "I was just coming to that."

"Well, you were taking your sweet time about it, as usual."

"Please, gentlemen, not on Christmas Eve," my dear Mary implored them. "Inspector Lestrade, please continue."

The little ferret-faced man gave Gregson a triumphantly haughty expression before continuing. "If you ever wish to work with us again, there will always be room for you at Scotland Yard, Doctor. And if you ever need friendship..." he was silent for a moment and then he cleared his throat. "The truth is, we miss Mr. Holmes as well."

I thanked him - and his colleagues - profusely, feeling very touched, and promised that I would keep in much better contact henceforth. At that moment, I had no great intention of becoming a police surgeon, but Mary was soon going to insist that I take them up on the offer - if only to provide me with adventure, intrigue and a healthy source of male companionship.

I have much to owe to my beloved Mary.