Olivia woke up the next morning, already depressed. She had the oddest feeling that something bad was going to happen, worse than an average punishment. She quietly slipped out of bed, put on her slippers and robe, and opened her bedroom door.
In the kitchen nook was Mr. Flavasham, drinking a small mug of coffe. At Olivia's chair stood a steaming mug of hot chocoalate. Olivia sat down on her chair, wondering why Daddy had made her a special drink she only had on rare occasions, when he was supposed to be angry with her.
"Goon morning, Father.", she said tentively.
He nodded to her, taking a sip from his mug.
Olivia stared down at her mug awkwardly, not really knowing what to say, and her Father seemed comfortable enough. Maybe this was his way of punishment? By not talking to her at all? Eventually, the silence rained down upon her until it was more than she could bear.
"Daddy, please say something. I can't bear the silence. Please!", she said, now on the verge of begging.
"Olivia, I...", He said, seeming like he couldn't finish.
"Yes? What is it?", she probed.
"Well, Olivia, I was thinking about how old getting and how someday your going to be a young lady. And young ladies don't beg ,or whine, or sneak around do they?"
"No, they don't, sir..."
"Well, I was thinking that I should take you to a place where you could learn proper manners and become a young lady."
"What is it? Is it like school?"
"Well, it's called a finishing school."
"A finishing school? Where is it?
"Well there's one in I was thinking about called, "The Darlington Academy for Young Ladies. It's far away, but it supposed to be one of the best around. It's kind of far away though, in London.", he held his breath, waiting for his daughters' response.
Olivia stared at him a long time, with a thoughtful look on her face, until finally saying,"Well, London is a far way to walk each day. I don't know if I'll make it back home to supper on time."
Mr. Flavasham chuckled at this. "No, Olivia. You wouldn't come back home. You live there at the school, and I would come to visit you on weekends and holidays."
"But what about all my friends? Claire, she'll miss me too much. And everyone else, I'll miss them all, and you, I'd rather have you all than a bunch a silly manners."
"Olivia, you have to. All of you other friends will have to go do this, as well. Your mother would want this..."
"Mother is gone, Father. You are all I have."
"Olivia, do you want to have a family someday? Be a mommy?"
"Yes, I suppose I do."
"Then you have to go to this finishing school. Understood?"
"Yes Daddy."
"Good. Besides, I'm sure you will make lots of new friends."
Olivia stayed depressed and unhappy the entire day while packing for the finishing school in London. She wondered if it was a plesant place and hoped she would be excepted there. That night, she tossed and turned, her dreams mixed with the students of Darlington and Basil of Baker street.
When she woke up the next morning, she put on her traveling dress-suit and her favorite boots, grabbed her suit case, and went into the living room to meet her fate.
"Good morning, Olivia. Are you ready to go?"
"Yes... Father, can I ask you a question?
"Alright."
"Are you sending me away because I was naughty?"
"No, Olivia. I love you, but I want what is best for you. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good. Come along, then. Our carriage is here."
When they entered the carriage and took off for the train station, Mr. Flavasham handed Olivia something she had been waitng for, for what felt like decades. She smiled for the first time in the last two days and hugged her father graciously. He returned the embrace, missing them dearly. Finally, Olivia took out the paper and read it.
Dear Ms. Flavasham,
I simply must thank you for your advice and comfort. Right after reading your letter, it insipered me to alredy start work on a new case. You are an angel and an inspiration. Perhaps one day, when you are old enough, you should come and work on a case with Dawson and myself, if you feel up to it. After all, Dawson won't be around forever. He's already thinking about retirement in a few years. I can't blame him, of course. He is already 50, afterall. His birthday was about a week ago. Anyways, I hope you are feeling well and all that and I hope you might come and visit me on baker street sometime. Perhaps I'll have Mrs. Judson make us a batch of her fameous cheese crupets and I'll reaccount to you some of my latest cases. Please tell me a date you would like to meet and I'll set up my plans accordingly.
Sincerely,
Basil of Baker Street
Olivia clutched the piece of paper to her chest. Basil did care for her, afterall. Everything was going to be alright. What was even better, she knew that if she lived in London, perhaps Basil could come and visit her much more often. As the carriage rolled on to the train station, a sparkle of hope danced in Olivia's eyes that perhaps she would get to see Basil sooner then she had originally thought.
