Chapter 4
So, he was a genius, then. Well, she was not going to be damsel in distress for that was him. Alone his face after she'd told him about his looking out of the window. He'd done his best to conceal it but his surprise had been written all over it. She had got him. She smiled at herself.
They were standing on the edge of the cliffs, the English sea sweeping beneath them. Clara had to hold her hat with one hand for the wild wind was tugging at it. The skirt of her dress was fluttering but she did not mind. The sun was warm on her face, the salty smell of the sea made her breathing more freely and the cries of the seagulls was a familiar melody to her ears. Watching the waves crashing against the cliffs, a power so strong and ancient she couldn't help but feel very small. What was she but a heartbeat compared to this wonderful nature? A whiff within a storm. A faint memory. She tore her eyes from the white crestwaves washing over the rocks, forming their shapes for over decades and looked at her aunt's guest. Mister Holmes had taken hold of his hat himself, his other hand supported by his umbrella which was black like the rest of his clothes. She had considered to ask him who he was griefing for but as far as she knew he had never been married and apart from his brother, the famous detective, nobody knew about his family. Clara couldn't help but wonder. What was his explanation for living a life in solitude? Stepping closer to him, she asked: "Would you like to go down to the beach?", although she was certain that she already knew his answer. He did not look at her when he said: "No, thank you". There, she'd been right! How could a man with that much knowledge be so predictable?
Not far from them a narrow path led down towards a short band of a beach with sand and dunes. She loved to sit down there, especially in summer when the wind was almost mildly stroking her skin. Her escort was staring at the horizon, seemingly lost in his thoughts. He was completely motionless, as if he'd turned to stone. Clara wondered if he would notice anything by now. Would he notice if she left? Would he notice if she made rude gestures or noices towards him? In that moment she recognized a bird flying in circles right above them. In a reflexsive movement she put her free hand on his shoulder and gestured towards it with her chin. "Look, another one!". The touch brought her an almost inflictive look of his but she decided to focus on the bird. He had overstepped her comfort zone back in the carriage by talking about her past and fears in the most rude manner and now it was her turn. Besides he could easily get rid off her hand by taking one step aside, so in contrast to him she was giving him a way out. The bird did not look like a seagull, she realised. It was bigger and its colour was different. "This is a seahawk, Miss Oswald", Mister Holmes explained dryly and kept standing exactly where he was even though she could feel his body tense. She looked up at him until he turned his head and his eyes found hers. They were of a greyish blue, cool and steely. They reminded her of a frozen pond. His face gave her nothing. It was completely blank. No movement. No emotion. It was almost creepy. She blinked when he raised his eyebrow in question. "Good to know", she smiled and took a step back, unsure what to make of that look, letting go of his shoulder. The tension seemed to leave his body immediatly. Well, at least a little bit. His back was still a perfect straight line, his shoulders pulled back, his chin up. "Considering the fact that you have been around here for much longer than I have one should think that you know about the fauna of this country side", he stated coldly and his brow twitched arrogantly before he turned and walked back towards the carriage.
It took her a moment to realise what just had happened before she turned as well, jogging to catch up with the large strides of his long legs. She caught up with him at the carriage and stood in front of him, her hand put on the door, stopping him from getting inside. He was not looking at her.
"Mister Holmes, I am sorry for...for whatever I may have done to let you believe that my opinion of you-"
"I do not believe things, Miss Oswald", he interrupted. "I see and I observe. I notice everything. Especially the antipathy of other people towards my person." He gave her a cold look. She felt strange, as if she was facing a trial. "But I have learnt to deal with them in my own way. Caring is not an advantage", he added when Thomas came but was not sure whether to open the door between the two or not. He remained standing a few feet away from them, his hands folded, waiting.
"What makes you say that?", she asked. She could not help but feel pity for him. A man who spoke like that must have been hurt in the past, she thought. What had made him this way?
"Experience of life and basically logic, Miss Oswald", he answered. He sent a patronising look over her form and said: "You have all of this to come, possibly". With that he opened the door himself and got inside. All Clara could do was to stare at him a while longer before shaking her head in annoyance. She then turned towards Thomas. "By now I think I prefer to walk home by myself", she said. "Please bring Mister Holmes back while I will use the time for a nice walk". And before Thomas could say a word she stepped away, not minding the fact that the clouds were turning grey above her.
She had walked a few feet on the path when she heard steps approaching from behind. "You will get drenched". Not stopping in her movements, Clara shook her head. "The rain will start in a few minutes and you do not have anything on you to keep you dry", Mister Holmes was still behind her but had stopped, sure that she would stop as well. Oh, no, she thought. Not going to do that! "Miss Oswald!" he called and she finally stopped and turned to face him. What was it he wanted from her? What could he possibly want?
"This is childish", he stated and she felt like slapping him across his arrogant features. He was right, she knew. But she would not admit it, ever! "I would like to take a walk on my own, so please feel free to leave me alone", she shot back. What was he thinking?
"I will not leave you out here, all on your own", he said.
"Why not?", she asked. "You just told me that caring is not an advantage".
"This much is true but I am afraid I owed your aunt an explanation if I returned without you and I would rather avoid this". Crossing her arms, she stared into nothing, trying to think. This man was really insuffreable! Suddenly she felt a drop on her head and tensed. He had been right. Opening the umbrella, he held out his hand and gave her a requesting look. Clenching her jaw, she stepped towards him, under the umbrella but did not take hold of his arm. Why did it have to rain anyway?
