"Eleventh Entry"
Hi.
Bastian's staying at Baker Street now, too. Uncle Sebastian brought him on Saturday afternoon. Bastian told me that he argued with Papa and Daddy after he found my note. He was the one who called Uncle Greg. Then he packed, and said that he was going to stay with me, because he was angry with them, too, and I'm not used to sleeping away from home. Not without Daddy or Papa or Bastian. Uncle Greg said that I slept much better than Uncle Sherlock. They let me stay with them. But because they work odd hours sometimes, I'll be sleeping upstairs. It's where Daddy used to sleep, but it's used for guests now. It doesn't smell like Daddy anymore, which is good.
It's Sunday night now. Bastian stayed with me last night. He was supposed to sleep on the couch, but I woke up crying, so he didn't leave me. I have the best big brother in the whole world. Even though he says that we have to go home sometime. But he hasn't said when.
Uncle Greg let us go to work with him today. Sergeant Sally took me for a walk. She said it was a good excuse to avoid paperwork. I met new people, as well as some people I already knew. DI Dimmock was there. He was very impressed when I showed him how I'd borrowed a constable's police card, the way Uncle Sherlock taught me. I said that I was going to put it back before it was missed, but DI Dimmock said that he'd do it for me. I showed him how using his card. I don't think he realised I'd borrowed it as well. He called Uncle Sherlock a word that Sergeant Sally told me to forget. She said she wasn't going to explain what it meant.
"Uncle Sherlock's taking us to St. Bart's," Bastian said when we went back to Uncle Greg's office. He didn't look very happy. It's odd, because Bastian wants to be a doctor, and he likes Miss Molly. She works in the morgue.
"Thank you, Sergeant Sally," I said.
"Could I have my warrant card back?" she asked.
"I didn't take it."
She checked, and then winked at me. "All right. I'll let you off the hook this once. Only because you tried it on Dimmock."
"Detective Inspector Dimmock," Uncle Greg said.
"Of course, sir," she said. Then she waved goodbye as we left with Uncle Sherlock. But I did kiss Uncle Greg goodbye, first.
Miss Molly was very happy to see us. She lifted me onto a stool so that I could see what she was working on. Well, what Uncle Sherlock wanted to work on. Bastian helped while Miss Molly explained to me what they were doing. Miss Molly knew Papa once, but no one's told me how. I thought they said it was because Papa worked here, but Papa's not a doctor. I think they got confused between Papa and Daddy. But I don't want to think about them.
"How's Greg?" Miss Molly asked. Bastian was practising stitches on the body. Uncle Sherlock was making sure he did it right.
"Fine, fine," Uncle Sherlock said. He looked up at Miss Molly. "He's very well. We're both excited to have Bastian and Clarissa staying with us. Greg would make a good father."
"So would you, Uncle Sherlock," I said.
"I think you would, too," Miss Molly said. Uncle Sherlock shook his head.
"It is unlikely to happen, and he accepted a long time ago that he does not wish to father children at his age. It is dangerous in our line of work. There is no need to… like this, Bastian… that is correct. There is no need to put a child through that."
"I wouldn't mind babysitting these two anytime." Miss Molly likes to cuddle me sometimes. She's a Beta, and she doesn't have anyone. So I let her hug me whenever she wants to. And I needed it, too.
"I'm thirteen now," Bastian said. He was still concentrating on his stitches. Uncle Sherlock was studying the kidneys again. "I don't need a nanny."
"Yes, but your fathers wouldn't— no one would let you look after Clarissa all by yourself," Miss Molly said. "And there's the new baby coming along. Aren't you excited about getting a new brother or sister? I would be."
"Maybe," I said. "I don't know."
"Molly, where's that report?" Uncle Sherlock said.
"Just here, Sherlock," she said.
"I need it."
Miss Molly sighed, and she handed Uncle Sherlock the file that Uncle Greg had given him.
We went back to New Scotland Yard two hours later. Bastian and I waited near the snack machines, and Bastian bought crisps to share. Mr. Anderson bought a chocolate, and he gave us the same look he always gives us. Bastian thinks that he's suspicious of us. I like the word suspicious. I think Bastian is right. Uncle Sherlock says that ten of Mr. Anderson couldn't be even half as smart of either of us. I don't know about that. But Uncle Sherlock is nice like that.
I've nearly finished writing for tonight. Uncle Sherlock asked Bastian about what's been going on at home, especially since Mr. Mycroft tried to take us away.
"The dynamic's changed," Bastian said. "Lasted for a few days, anyway. It was like Dad… liked Father. We don't get to see that an awful lot. At all. He would kiss Father, smile at him sometimes. Clarissa didn't see what happened after that argument she overheard, but I saw them. Father wouldn't look at Dad except to… you know that saying 'If looks could kill'? It was like that. But Dad didn't… it was weird. He didn't look as angry as Father. He looked a bit guilty, and he wouldn't even look at me. Father yelled at him after I showed them the note. Dad said they were both to blame. But I left after that. I didn't want to hear any more. The next day – yesterday – I told them I was leaving, and called you."
"Did you notice anything different, Clarissa?" Uncle Greg asked. I was in his lap.
"Yes," I said. "I've written everything in my diary."
"Would you like to tell us?" Uncle Sherlock said.
Instead, I'm going to let him read it. I trust Uncle Sherlock and Uncle Greg. If you're reading this, too, I love both of you very much. And thank you for looking after us.
I keep getting "Good Golly, Miss Molly" (sung by Little Richard) stuck in my head, thanks to Clarissa's name for Molly. Bother. It's like that 'Avengers' fan fic of mine, where the title was a line from "Honeybun", a song in 'South Pacific'. Kept getting that song stuck in my head while writing the story. And, indeed, whenever I read it.