Chapter 3 - Friends, Old and New
19th June 1876 - The Beast's Manor
"Sherlock never told me your name?" Mrs Hudson began, once Molly was perched at the table in the kitchen, while she flitted about, stoking the fire to reheat the kettle and pulling ingredients out of the pantry. It felt slightly surreal for Molly to watch, used to being the one doing all of that.
"He never asked it." She answered. Noticing how bitter she sounded and not wanting to alienate herself from a potential friend she started again, in a friendlier tone. "I'm Molly. Molly Hooper."
"Well nice to meet you Molly. My name's Martha Hudson, though most people just call me Mrs Hudson." The elderly lady told her. Molly had to admit Mrs Hudson seemed to fit her better anyway.
"Is Mr Hudson about? You and Sherlock are the only people I've met here so far."
"Well that's because it's just us, dear." Mrs Hudson explained, chopping up vegetables and throwing them into a pot over the stove. "And Mr Hudson died a long one ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Don't be, I'm certainly not." Mrs Hudson smiled, "He got what was coming to him, Sherlock made sure of that."
Molly opened her mouth to ask what he did and what the man upstairs had to do with it, but decided against it. She couldn't reconcile anything good with the rude man who was holding her captive right now. They fell into a comfortable silence, Mrs Hudson cooking away while Molly looked about the room. The kitchen was bright and warm, well stocked with every sort of cooking implement and pots big enough to feed half the town. Even though no dust had been allowed to settle in the pristine room, it was still sadly clear to Molly that most of this equipment went unused; they were simply too clean. Only the pot currently in use had any blackening from being over a flame. How long had it been just the two of them shut up in this big house? And now it was just the three of them, and already the loneliness seemed unbearable to Molly. She cast about for a subject, just to break the silence.
"So I suppose I should probably move my things down here to the servants quarters if I'm going to be the new housekeeper." She said. Not that it would take much to bring her bag down. And that damned rose.
"If you want, but there's really no need." Mrs Hudson shrugged, "I only stay down here because of my hip, or else I'd take a nice comfy room with a view too. Not that I'm complaining about the nice bed Sherlock helped bring down for me when we got here, mind. But any free room in the house is yours if you want it, upstairs or downstairs."
Molly's brow crinkled in confusion. She'd heard all about the upstairs downstairs way things worked in big houses like this, she's had a friend at school who was from a richer family and talked about having servants. Nothing she'd seen here seemed to fit with that.
"Are you sure he won't mind?" She asked tentatively "It's a bit..."
"Unorthodox?" Mrs Hudson chuckled over the now bubbling stew. "That's Sherlock all over."
Molly tried to smile in return, but it was strained. She'd thought of Sherlock as the monster stories made him out to be when he told her she couldn't leave, but the way Mrs Hudson spoke about him seemed to be the complete opposite. She couldn't reconcile the two views of the man in her head. Some of her conflict must have shown on her face, because Mrs Hudson gave her an understanding look.
"He's a good man." She said "Goodness knows, he's arrogant, rude, ruthless and has a special knack for upsetting people... But underneath it all..." She trailed off with a fond smile.
"Then why won't he let me go?" Molly asked in a pained voice. If she knew he had good reason, she might be able to accept Mrs Hudson's view of the man.
"Hasn't he told you?" Mrs Hudson looked genuinely shocked by the news, "He does like to be mysterious and dramatic sometimes, I'm sure he'll tell you when he's ready."
"Can't you tell me?" Molly begged.
"It's not my curse to tell, dear." Mrs Hudson said sadly, before dishing up a bowl of the stew and putting it down in front of Molly. "Now eat up, then I'll give you a tour of the place, help you feel at home."
Meanwhile - The Rose and Crown - Finchley
Half the town seemed to be assembled in the Rose and Crown this evening, which was nothing new, being the only bar in town. What was unusual was Detective Inspector Lestrade walking in, as he rarely left the police house these days outside of a case. A hush descended over the crowd, until he raised his hand in the universal signal to barmen that he was here for a drink, and then slid away to a table at the back. No sooner had a waitress brought over his ale and taken his order for supper, then two familiar faces joined him, pulling up chairs and plunking their beers down on the rickety wooden table. Lestrade only really knew Dr Stamford from his occasional unfortunate visits to the morgue for a case, but John Watson went way back with both of them, and always was a friendly sort.
"Lestrade! Good to see you out of the house. What's the occasion?"
"The occasion is a man's gotta eat." Lestrade admitted, taking a sip of his beer before continuing, "I didn't think it possible but I think I managed to chase Molly away yesterday by suggesting I could get Sally to do some of the little jobs she usually does for me. I only meant for her to have the day off, but she hasn't come back since. And now Sally and Anderson seem to have had some kind of falling out and she hasn't been by either, a man could be left to starve if I didn't take matters into my own hands."
Lestrade didn't miss the significant look shared between Stamford and Watson.
"You haven't seen Molly since yesterday, you say?" Watson asked.
"No. Haven't you?" Lestrade's eyes went to Stamford in particular, knowing Molly did some work for him.
"No. I sent her out to Enfield with a message for my folks yesterday morning, and was expecting her back with a reply today, but she's not been in." He explained "Not that I'm complaining, I know she'll have done her job but... It shouldn't be taking her this long to get back, it's really not that far, you could make a round trip in a day at a leisurely pace."
There was a couple of seconds contemplative silence, as all three thought about the journey and calculated, but the conclusion was inevitable; she should be back by now.
"Perhaps she stopped there for the night? That was a quite a storm last night, perhaps she felt it coming and decided to get a room and come back in the morning?" Lestrade suggested.
"Well that's what we thought, but still she'd be back by now, and I'd have thought she'd have called in on you if she was." Watson pointed out.
It was true, Lestrade thought, Molly stuck to her word like glue, and if she hadn't been over to make food for him when she said she would because she'd been detained by the weather, the first thing the girl would do when she got the chance would be come over to apologise.
"Well, perhaps she decided to take a day off after all, seeing as what time of year it is. You know how hard she took Maurice's death." He suggested hopefully.
"That's true, but she never takes the day, even if I offer it." Stamford pointed out, "Come to think of it, I can't even remember her ever asking for a day off, let alone taking one."
On the next table, James Moriarty - better known to the people of Finchley as Jimmy Gaston - sat listening. He liked spending his evening in the Rose and Crown, not only was it a good place to meet contacts for his underground criminal network without attracting suspicion, it was also a good place to keep abreast of the news in the little town, and who knew when some information would come in handy?
He was surprised to hear the girl he had been wooing was the centre of today's gossip, and had apparently gone missing. It certainly explained why he hadn't heard from her today as she'd promised. Not that he particularly cared for her, she was just a girl pointed out to him by Irene as having enough Daddy issues to make her an easy target for conquest. He did so love corrupting a pure young thing, before tossing her away with a broken heart. So far she'd been far more challenging than he'd predicted, which was always a bonus, but it wouldn't break his heart if she truly had gone missing - plenty more needy young girls in the sea after all. But for the sake of maintaining his cover as a lovable handyman he supposed he should show at least at little concern.
"Excuse me gentlemen, did I hear right...?"
Holmes' Hall, otherwise known as the Beast's Manor
After supper, Mrs Hudson gave Molly a tour of the house, or at least most of it. They avoided the second floor of the west wing since those were 'Sherlock's Rooms' and Mrs Hudson assured Molly that he would take care of them himself, being very particular about things. Molly didn't mind that in the slightest, as there was still to be a lot of house under her care. The house boasted 17 bedrooms, several parlours, 1 fairly recently added private bathroom with a claw footed bathtub and even a shower- the height of bathing technology-, a large dining room and a ballroom.
All the rooms had to be dusted regularly, the rooms used regularly needed fires lit and tended to, and the bath was to be filled with hot water from the stove twice a week for Sherlock, then drained before they could make one for themselves. The bedrooms were to be aired daily, with a high window that required a pole and hook to open, as the lower windows were locked as per Sherlock's promise.
"Why are all the curtains always shut?" Molly couldn't help but ask as Mrs Hudson pulled one back over a window after showing her how to open it.
"Oh that..." Mrs Hudson heaved a sad sigh, giving the curtain a brush down. "Let's just say you're not the only prisoner here dear, and he took it even worse than you have. He never said they have to stay shut as such, but the view does torment him so, and I like to make things comfortable for him."
Molly bit her tongue against asking why they all seemed to be prisoners again, knowing she would get the answer when they were ready to give it to her. Her feelings for her captor were certainly softening by the minute, but she knew she wouldn't be able to completely forgive him until she knew. She tried to put it out of her mind for now.
"So... I could open the ones in my room, if I wanted to?" She asked.
"Of course. Though in time you might find you don't."
The tour concluded, Molly retired to her room for the night, thinking that she'd never get to the point of wanting to shut the sun out of her life. Yet the next morning, as she got up and dressed, she pulled open the curtains to find herself looking down at a garden full of blooming roses, and swiftly yanked them shut again.
AN: Hi guys, thanks for the continual support for the fic, glad you are enjoying it. And thanks to Lovely whim, 12564, Annesha, rockcandybar and Cassidy Rose for your lovely words in reviews.
By the way, recommended listening for this story is 'The Beauty and The Beast' by Nightwish, an epic song and my inspiration for wanting to do a beauty and beast story, so check it out if you have the time.
See you lovely people next chapter, enjoy the season 4 trailer in the meantime, I know I am ;)
