After eating their meager dinner, John, Harriet, and Sherlock made their way back up the creaky stairs. Mrs. Watson could tell that they were tired from working on the quilt all day, so she said,
"Go on up and finish your quilt; I'll get your cousins to do the dishes." The three of them murmured a quiet "Thank you" before trudging back up the stairs. They opened the heavy wooden door to their attic space and saw a disaster. Scraps of green fabric were everywhere and tangled thread littered the floor. Had a newcomer made the journey upstairs and seen their little space, they would have not known that the floor was made of wood.
"What is there left to do?" asked John. He loved making the quilt, but after doing it all day he felt like his eyes were going to roll right out of his head. Sherlock opened his mouth to answer, but Harriet beat him to the punch.
"Just the outer edge." John rubbed his eyes with his fist and said,
"Thank goodness." The other two nodded in agreement; their eyes were feeling worn out by the long day of quilting too, the feeling straining them more than normal since they spent the night in a bomb shelter with the now-cold Mr. Wilkinson. It wasn't long however before they-
"Finished!" Exclaimed Harriet. She held it up for them to see, a smile as wide as the channel they cross with Saprisi. Sherlock let out a small gasp before whispering,
"It's beautiful." He took a step towards it to investigate further as John reached out to touch it. John was the first to break the silence.
"I can't believe that we actually made it. A small part of didn't think that we were going to get it done." Sherlock nodded in agreement. Harriet draped it over her mattress so that she could admire it too.
"What a wonder! Are you sure she's from Ireland; I'd hate to give her a big green shamrock quilt if she wasn't."
"Err…" Now that John and Sherlock thought about it, they weren't entirely sure that she was from Ireland. They quickly glanced at each other before Harriet said,
"What?! you don't know if she's from Ireland?" John glanced to the floor and Sherlock wrung his hands as he said,
"Well, we think she's from Ireland. he was speaking Gaelic when we arrived." Harriet gave them both a withering look that her mother would be proud of before she said,
"You better be right, or so help you God." They took one last minute to admire the quilt they had made before cleaning up all of the green scraps and tangled thread lying about. It wasn't long before the three of them had finished the job and Harriet was looking out of the window as the two boys put on their pyjamas.
"What are you doing?" asked John, his voice groggy from exhaustion. Harriet shook her head and pulled the window shut before she said,
"It's cloudy out tonight." John was still confused.
"So?" Harriet sighed before she said,
"Typical English weather. Will there ever be a day where this place isn't grey and moist?" John was still confused, so he look to Sherlock for help. As he crawled under the covers, he answered,
"Can't see the stars when there are clouds covering them up." Comprehension finally dawned on John. It must have shown on his face because Sherlock smiled and said,
"You know what? Maybe I was right when I first met you. You are a bit slow." John, too tired to come up with a smart remark stuck out his tongue before crawling under the covers next to Sherlock. They were laying in silence, listening to the deep and steady breathing of Harriet before Sherlock whispered,
"Hey, John? Do you think She'll like it? The quilt, I mean." John rolled over to face his friend. He grasped at the empty air in the dark for a moment, searching for Sherlock's face. When he finally found it, he put his hands on Sherlock's cheeks, just like his mother does with him. Then he whispered back,
"Of course Aileen will love the quilt. Especially when we tell her that we made it ourselves." John felt Sherlock smile before he murmured,
"Alright. Goodnight, John." John mirrored Sherlock's smile and whispered, "Goodnight, Sherlock." before taking his hands from his face. There they slept, dreaming of shamrocks and boats as they lay in the inky darkness.
The next morning, John and Sherlock were awoken by none other than Harriet.
"Hey. Pssssst. Wake up, you sodden logs. When does Saprisi leave?" John yawned and stretched his arms as Sherlock rubbed the sleep out of his eyes so that he could read his wristwatch.
"Errr, in like half an hour." Harriet nodded and without a word, gathered up the quilt and made her way downstairs as quietly as the aged wood allowed. John sat up and threw off the warm blankets and began to pull on as many jumpers as he could. Within a minute, Sherlock was up and doing the same; preparing for the cold journey ahead of them. Once they were all dressed, they gathered their packs and made their way to the kitchen, where they could smell Harriet cooking their toast. No sooner had they crossed the threshold, Harriet threw them their bread and said,
"Let's be off." John and Sherlock stood with their mouths open as Harriet grabbed her own slice of bread and walked to the door. "What are you dimwits doing? Let's go!" The boys were amazed at her efficiency.
"You must really want to meet Saprisi," chuckled John as he watched Harriet struggling to fit her whole slice of bread into her mouth at once. Before she could finish chewing her breakfast however, Mrs. Watson waltzed in, humming a tune.
"Where are you lot off to today?" Harriet tried to answer her, but all that came out of her mouth was a muffled and unrecognizable response. "Have I taught you nothing? Eat it in bites, Harriet, not all at once! How old are you?" Harriet, abashed, hurriedly finished her bread. Before she could finish, John said,
"We are going to see Saprisi and give Aileen the quilt!" 's mood went from sleepy to excited in a flash.
"Let me see it!" Harriet, her bread finally swallowed, undid the straps on her own pack and pulled out the quilt. Mrs. Watson let out a sigh before she whispered, "It's beautiful. You guys did a nice job." Sherlock, to everyone's surprise, pulled in a tight embrace. She heard a muffled "Thank you" from somewhere around her belly before Sherlock released his grip and shouldered his pack. The three of them each received a kiss on the forehead from their mother before hearing, "Be careful!" as they ran out the door.
They ran all the way to the wharfs. Harriet had never been to this side of town before so when she saw some of the many cats lazing in the sun, she got really excited.
"Oh, look at them all! Can we stop and pet one." She reached down and pet a sleepy cat on the head as he closed his eyes in enjoyment.
"In a minute, we need to get to Saprisi's spot." Harriet shrugged and started to walk off with the boys. She only walked a few steps before she turned right around and picked up the cat that she was just petting. The feline, as inky as the night, couldn't have been more delighted. He purred as she carried him all the way to where John and Sherlock were staring. They stood next to an old, blue boat.
"Is this ihis boat? I thought you said that it was red." John sombrely shook his head as Sherlock looked at the empty space next to the blue boat. He answered Harriet in a quiet voice.
"It is red. He's not here." Sherlock, still looking into the water where Saprisi's boat was supposed to be did not notice when John left his side. John walked the few short feet to seven-fingered Delmar's boat and rapped on his door.
"Hey! Delmar! Are you in there!" The door opened with a snap as the wrinkly man came to see who had awoken him.
"Who the bloody hell are you?"
"I'm John! You have already met me like three times!"
"Oh, you are Sherlock's friend."
"Yeah. That's me. So...do you know where Saprisi is?" Delmar stepped to the side so that he could get a clear view of the empty spot that was hidden behind John. When he saw that there wasn't a boat, he looked out on the river and pointed into the distance. Just visible in the morning fog was a boat, as red as blood and a prow as shiny as a new pence, making their way towards them. John saw Sherlock sigh with relief as he sat down on the dock. Harriet took a seat next to him as she doted on the cat she was holding. John went to do the same, but not before he heard Delmar murmur,
"Now I remember why I didn't have children. Too loud; I would never sleep."