Maibritt Saftstrom sat heavily down at the table next to Molly. Her tray was heavy laden, as was she.
"What is that you have, Molly?" She was eyeing Molly`s cheese on rye bread and dill pickle. "That can`t be enough for you – both."
Uh-oh.
Shrodinger`s cat seemed to have been let, very suddenly, out of its box.
Within seconds, Maibritt was joined by Goran, Janik and Johann, round the canteen table. Their twinkling eyes and knowing smiles told their own story.
"Dirty, rotten secret keeper!" Teased Goran, pointing and laughing. "Here we all are, growing cells in-vitro, and there you are, growing them in-utero! Congratulations!"
"Ja, grattis på din bebis!"
Molly was touched, but also a little mortified. For being the centre of attention in the cafeteria, and for the unspoken (in either Swedish, or English) questions of `who is the father and where is he?`
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Seiga caught up with her after lunch, walking towards their respective laboratories. She had seen quite a bit of the surly biologist since the night of the intruder, and Seiga always seemed to be around when Molly was walking home, or from the bus stop. Does she lie in wait for me? And if so, why? Seiga`s bright blue eyes always seemed to be watching her; assessing her – she didn`t seem to do casual. A fierce intensity was her go-to expression. Generally, though, Molly was glad of the company, and Seiga kept her amused with gossip and information about her co-workers.
"Maibritt is the one who eats all the biscuits in the staff room. She thinks she`s got rid of all the crumbs, but there are always some remaining on the top seam of her pocket, too close for her to see. Plus, she always insists on having Lab twelve, the nearest to the staffroom; and sets the clock five minutes fast in their so we all leave, and she still has time to eat them, in secret."
Molly always laughed at these observations. Seiga didn`t seem the bitchy type, and you couldn`t fault her accuracy.
Svetlana Edmunssen (PA to the Dean) secretly drove a tractor when her husband was out at work. Seiga was not sure why.
Bjorn Vletd, dietician, wanted to marry his girlfriend, and had bought her an engagement ring, but she was going to reject him, since she was having an affair with his sister.
"Hej, Molly. I hear your secret is out. I assure you it wasn`t down to me, or Stig, but only you yourself."
Molly stopped, in indignation. "I haven`t told a soul, Seiga, I can assure you."
"No, but your twenty six week uterus tells the story loud and clear." She pulls back Molly`s lab coat, smiling – almost fondly? Unusual for her.
Molly looked down. A very obvious bump of baby. Who was she kidding? She, of all people, should realise that, if people have eyes, they tend to use them.
"I`m fat. Huge. Elephantine. I will have to ask Janik to reinforce my lab stool." And Seiga actually laughed. Hmm, thinks Molly Hooper, she has got a human side after all.
"Come on Molly, get back to work. Stop wallowing."
"Apt term – for a baby hippo!"
And much later, when Molly is lying in bed in the nun`s cell, rolling her hands gently over the baby, she suddenly realises that the only piece of gossip/observation/pure guesswork never discussed by Seiga was surely the most obvious – the massive change in Lorka Amundssen. Everyone else had noticed something was bothering Stig, all assuming Lorka was the reason why. Everyone except for Ms Observant herself. And Molly wonders why that is.
X0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x
To: Sherlock_holmes221 Hotmail. co .uk
From: agra_watson_now66 gmail. co .uk
Subject: Run him
Hi Sweetie
Long story short – please take my husband away for me.
I don`t want you to misconstrue, but I need him to go with you to Uppsala to help with Molly`s big fat Swedish case. It`s not because I want him running around Scandinavia and getting into all sorts of bother – except it just might be that I do.
You know how it is with John; he is a man who loves the danger and the thrill of the chase, and I fear that all this domesticity is just a bit undiluted at the moment. He hasn`t said anything, natch, but I know how much he enjoyed the Edinburgh shindig (case, sorry) and I know you miss him.
Yes you do.
I think the two of you, running the gaunlet (or maybe just the smorgesbord) again would benefit just about everyone and you know how I love a happy ending. John may harbour some idea that I am helpless with baby stuff without him, but really, it`s quite a refreshing change for me to do this kind of wet work. (I wouldn`t be that grim with most people, but you, Sherlock, are not most people...)
So go, have fun, help an unhappy man and make a man happy. You have my blessing. I will keep an eye on the alterations for you if you want me to. That lab seems to be taking an awfully long time to finish.
Smooches,
Mary
PS I`ll let you tell him x
x0x
To: agra_watson_now66 .uk
From: Sherlock_holmes221 .uk
Subject: Run him
Mary,
I do appreciate your concern and, of course, John would be an asset to any case (apart from his incessent chronicling and sensationalising of events). I had made arrangements for accommodation, but they can still, at this late hour, be changed.
Should you, however, feel the need for him to stay and help (since Sholto appears to still have quite an irregular routine) I would understand.
If not, then off to Uppsala we go. Excellent.
Molly will be charmed to see us both.
Please do not trouble yourself to check on my builders. Mrs Hudson has them in hand and I am promised completion in early December. Best to stay away from such mess, dust and frequent strings of expletives.
Sherlock
PS Smooches?
Mary closed her Blackberry email with a impish little smile hovering across her lips. Chess is her favourite game, and the next move is his, whether he knows he`s playing her or not.
x0x