The Girl In The Background – A Young Sherlock Holmes Story

(Part 4)

"Sherrinford! It is nice to see you! How are you keeping?"
"Anna, dear! You look wonderful, how long has it been since we last did this? Three months?" I waited patiently by my parents' side as they greeted Sherlock's aunt and uncle. The adults had decided on our families spending the evening together and catching up after my father had been away on business in London for some time. As we walked into the large sitting room, I greeted Mycroft – Sherlock's elder brother – who had also returned from London, though only for a day or two.

As the housemaids came in with the tea, Sherlock arrived with Matty and Lily, speaking to the little girl about something evidently of great importance. Lily looked excited, Matthew looked smug and my best friend simply appeared externally indifferent – and perhaps, if I knew him well enough, eager to change the subject. However, when they saw me, they dropped the topic entirely. Joyously, the younger Holmes hopped into my lap, while Sherlock and Matthew both perched on the opposite arms of the chair I sat in. We all said our hellos, and the conversation moved drifted to the subjects of education, Sherlock's cases, and the new families in Farnham.

When the maids served dinner, we all sat in the dining hall at the rectangular table, with Sherrinford Holmes at the head on one end and my father, Robert, at the other. Aunt Anna and my mother sat to the right of both. While I was serving Lily, Sherlock and I both reached for the same dish at once, causing our hands to brush gently. He immediately pulled back, apologising and allowing me to go first. Nodding my thanks, I tried not to blush at his soft smile, remembering his visit and the dance he gave me earlier that morning. I quickly returned my attention to his little sister.

After dinner, we returned to the sitting room. Virginia had come with Amyus Crowe, Sherlock's tutor, to speak with Mycroft about some political affairs. Virginia now sat with Sherlock and Matthew in the chair I had previously occupied. As Lily had been taken for a bath by one of the housemaids, and my parents and Sherlock's aunt and uncle were deep in conversation, I sat alone by the fire, on the floor, watching the flames flicker and dance – each spark and cinder consumed by each other only to rise again. The epitome of resilience.

I do not know how long I sat there, but it was certainly over an hour, before I felt a hand on my shoulder. Woken from my vacant state, I looked over to see Sherlock sitting beside me, his back against the mantelpiece. "Hey," he said softly, "what are you thinking about?"
"Nothing," I answered, and though it had not been my intention, I must have conveyed a withdrawn temperament or at least some discomfort at his presence, because he frowned and rested his hand back on my shoulder.

"What's the matter, Ro?"
"I'm fine. Just please, leave me alone." I said softly, getting up and pulling away. I walked away from the others to stand at the half-open French windows, looking out at the starlit sky. I sighed a little, resting my head against the frame, knowing that I was being uncharacteristically introverted. I couldn't help myself. Why did Virginia have to come? And did I really mean so little that neither of my friends – let alone Virginia – had failed to say so much as a word to me in over an hour? Well, it didn't matter. Like I had realised so many times before, I was just the girl in the background.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" I spun around suddenly at the new voice, too surprised to be disappointed that it wasn't Sherlock.
"Mr Stone," I nodded politely, greeting Sherlock's violin teacher, Mycroft's agent. After we exchanged the formalities, he came to stand a little closer.
"Where's Sherlock?" he asked.
"With the others, of course." I answered with a gentle shrug.
"And pray, is it too intrusive to ask why you are not also with them?"

When I did not respond, he sighed heavily, following my gaze out of the window. "You are inordinately fond of him." Rufus Stone said at length, voice quiet. "I would advise you to forget him, Rosella. He is…different." I lost my composure.

"Do you think I don't know that?!" I retorted, more harshly than many would have imagined possible for someone with a nature such as mine, "And when, might I ask, did I request your advice?!" I was yelling, and when I realised that everyone was staring at me in surprise and concern, I have little idea what overcame me. I ran from the living room, ran from Holmes Manor, the world a blur as I sprinted the whole way home.

Getting home, I locked myself in my room, crying bitterly. I really had no idea what terrible fit had influenced me, but I expect it to have been the months of sadness and loneliness that I had hidden inside for so long. Before long, I fell into a deep and restless sleep, the salty streaks of tears down my cheeks.

I was not prepared for my morning awakening, and acted understandably in regards to my condition. "Sherlock! What do you think you are doing here…?! Get out!"
"But I – "
"I said get out!" Obediently, he dropped the bouquet of red roses he was carrying on my dressing table, and hurried from the room. Watching him go, I realised I was standing and my fists were clenched.

Swallowing, I fell back onto my bed, my eyes drifting to the sweet-smelling roses on the dresser. He had come to apologise, to make up with me. Why? He had done nothing wrong – the fault had been mine. Instantly, I felt guilty. Taking a deep breath, I got up again and put on my dressing gown, hoping to catch him before he left.

"Sherlock…" speaking softly, I came to stand by his side as he spoke to one of my maids, who promptly disappeared on my arrival. Turning to me, he breathed a sigh of relief, "Rosella! By Jove, I was so worried! Are you alright?"
"Yes…" I said quietly, chewing on my lower lip, "…uhm…I wanted to say…thanks…for the flowers." I finished quite pathetically, folding my arms nervously in front of me. Sherlock looked me over with his piercing gaze, "You're not alright at all, are you, Rosella?"

"Sherlock, I don't need anyone to worry about me." I said assertively, so firmly that he couldn't argue, "I'm sorry about last night and this morning." Oh dear. Last night. That was when I remembered in detail what a fool I had made of myself the night before. My friend laid a gentle hand on my arm, "Don't worry. Mr Stone didn't breathe a word about whatever it was you quarrelled over, nor will I ask. Do you think…do you think you could come back to Holmes Manor with me? Matty told Lily what happened and…well. She would like to see you, to make sure you're okay."

"Oh." I said, face falling as realisation hit me, "Is that all you came for? Well then, thank Mr Stone for suggesting you bring the flowers and – "
"Wait!" He cut me off, shaking his head, "That's not what I came for! I just came to see you, and as for the flowers…nobody suggested them, I…I thought it would be common courtesy to bring a bouquet, and I know you like roses…"

I just nodded, unsure of what to say. Before the silence became awkward, I broke it myself. "Of course. Let Lily know I'm on my way, I just need a few minutes to get dressed."
"I'd be happy to wait for you – "
"That won't be necessary, thank you for offering, Sherlock. I don't require an escort." Turning, I walked purposefully up the stairs to my room, Rufus Stone's words echoing in my head. I would advise you to forget him, Rosella. I would advise you to forget him.

"Rosella!" Walking into Holmes Manor, I was drawn into a huge hug by Lily upon stepping foot inside.
Aunt Anna was also there, talking quickly as per usual, "Oh, my dear Rosella! We were so worried! Worried sick! Are you okay? I do hope you are! We had no idea what happened, and Rufus won't – "
"I'm okay, Mrs Holmes, thank you," I smiled sweetly, "and I'm sorry about – "

"No! There's not a thing to be sorry for!" she said, but was interrupted by a crash of metal pans, a noise emanating from the kitchen. "Oh! That new maid is a clumsy one!" Mind totally diverted, she bustled off again to rectify the damage. Sherlock stood up from his seat by the window, and walked over to me, standing close.
"A woman of your word! Thank you for coming. I was afraid you wouldn't."

I took a small step away, responding simply, "I never go back on promises." Lily looked surprised by my behaviour, and a little disheartened. I think she understood what I planned to do – that being, of course, to take Mr Stone's advice and forget Sherlock. And then my friend acted unexpectedly, grabbing my arm despite being able to clearly see that I wanted space. I suppose his confusion and frustration with me had reached its highest point, and he turned me to face him with a pleading expression, "Please Rosella. Please talk to me."


Hello to all my wonderful readers! Look at what you can accomplish within one day without the distraction of the internet! ;) Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and what you think/expect should or will happen next!

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SherlockedSherlockian xxx

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