2

When I awoke my arm was aching in a dull fashion. It felt cold as if it were not mine at all. I looked down to find it had been bandaged, strangely and yet quite skilfully and neatly, with scraps of cloth and pieces of what could only be packing string. I had been covered with the gentleman's overcoat, my bad arm laid carefully across my middle and on top of the woollen coat. From the scratchiness beneath my neck and cheek, I assumed my jacket was being employed as a pillow.

My fall must have scrambled my senses for I certainly felt strange, as if my head had been densely stuffed with cotton wool. My vision was flickering on and off, as would a defective gas light.

I also felt horribly nauseated. Regardless of my injuries and dangerous predicament, everything paled to insignificance compared to the depth of humiliation to which I would sink, should I give in to my sickness and have this gentleman be witness to it.

"You did not answer me earlier, when I asked how you were feeling..." as he said this he threw down onto the floor several remnants of cloth and string, and then placed a gentle hand against my neck where I could momentarily feel the beat of my heart against his fingers.

"I will be alright" I said stoically, although I could tell from his expression he did not altogether believe me. I have to tell you that I also did not believe me.

"How did you find me here?" I asked.

"I saw you fall and I watched them lock you in this room. I believe their intent was simply to leave you here while they concluded their crooked business - they will not return, have no fear"

His face suddenly fell and when he looked at me again it was with regret.

"I'm afraid a friend of mine may need me and I must go. I will return, I give you my word" He patted my shoulder in a friendly way and readied himself to leave. At the door, I noticed him checking the gun once more, turning it over in his hands.

I felt very proud that I said nothing, when every part of me screamed out to shamelessly beg him to stay. I was terribly afraid, but I gathered my courage and simply nodded. He left then and I must be truthful, dear reader, and tell you that I did weep for a not inconsiderable length of time and that I felt more wretched and hopeless at that point than I had in my entire young life.

oOo

I heard voices first, low and indistinct, and I was content at that point simply to listen.

"Yet again we discover the bitter fruits of a lack of communication..."

(gloves are pulled roughly off)

"It's awfully good to see you, old man..."

(the stamp of a leather-soled shoe)

"You were supposed to wait for the signal!"

"Yes, yes... but events were such that I could not-"

(he is interrupted)

"Do you have your revolver?"

"Yes I do, if it is any business of yours.. and I would ask you not to question me-"

"Well it will be my blasted business if you hurt yourself again- what is that?"

(there is a brief pause where I deduce the blood spotted collar is discovered)

"What is what?"

"What do you mean what is what.. what is that? And on your brow, just- you've been bleeding, haven't you?"

(there is a dismissive snort at this point)

"A scratch..."

(another pause)

"Is that my shirt you are wearing and - by the way - ruined!"

I had opened my eyes whilst this hushed but heated exchange continued. Upon my return to wakefulness, I had seen with immense relief that my gentleman had indeed come back and that he had apparently brought with him the friend of whom he spoke.

I saw them both look at me in sudden silence and surprise.

After conversing in whispers again, this time with such studious care that I was unable to hear them, they peered out of the door one last time and then closed it behind them noiselessly.

I could hear their breaths coming deep and rapid as if they had recently run a great distance. They knelt at my side and I blinked wearily up at them. To my eyes, the second stranger was as finely dressed as the first, in a dark blue great-coat with wide lapels. In one hand he carried a pair of black leather gloves, which he stuffed hastily and rather ungraciously I thought at the time, into a pocket.

He had a neatly-trimmed moustache very like to my father's. My first stranger's hair was very dark and rather unruly, but this gentleman's was sandy in colouring and closely cropped, in what my mother would describe as a military style. I remember being quite exasperated with myself at the time, as I could not, hard as I tried, fathom the colour of his eyes.

I found him to have a kindly enough countenance, but I was nonetheless startled when he all at once laid a cool hand on my forehead. His expression was serious as from beneath the overcoat which covered me, he drew my good hand. The hand on my forehead quickly went to his waistcoat pocket and a fob watch appeared which held his attention for some seconds, while his fingers moved gently against my wrist. It was only then that he seemed to sense my consternation.

"Don't be alarmed, my dear, I'm a doctor" he quickly said. Returning the pocket watch to its proper place he drew up the edge of the overcoat and I was snug once more.

"Another doctor?" I asked.

The two gentlemen exchanged an odd look between them.

"Dear lady..." began the gentleman who was not a science master,"I am many things but a doctor I am not… I would find the hours intolerable"

I believe I heard the other chuckle at that... The gentleman who was also not a doctor continued:

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, and I must beg your forgiveness as I was remiss in my failure to introduce myself before now. This is my colleague, Dr Watson"

The gentleman who really was a doctor looked at me then, and said,

"Miss Nora, the circumstances could be better, but it is an honour to meet you nonetheless."

oOo

TBC and thank you for reading!

A.N.- I hope you will forgive me if some of the dialogue in this short chapter owes slightly more to the SH movie than to the original stories.