The Case of the Old Caretaker, Chapter two; Dinner for Two
"So, Sherlock and yourself are suffering a dry spell?" Anthea asked when I was halfway through my Mongolian lamb.
"Mmm," I answered her as I chewed. "Hence his absence and his mood,"
Anthea gave a small smile as she took a sip of red wine. "He is such a restless soul, always has been. Mind, Mycroft and I had thought it would get better as he got older. We were wrong." She told me. "However, your luck may change in the coming days."
"Oh," I enquired.
"I may have a case for him, if he chooses to take it," Anthea nodded.
"May have a case?" I repeated, wondering what that actually meant and I noticed that she hesitated.
"Well, it is a rather delicate situation, one which I will tell you about fully later on when Sherlock is present also." She said quietly. "I am playing this one fairly close to my chest, John."
I nodded, getting the impression that she didn't want to be overheard.
"So, how was your trip down to Dartmoor?" She asked me with a smile.
"Oh you know when we weren't chasing massive, glowing hounds, Sherlock was basically rude to everyone and he attempted to drug me as an experiment, so nothing out of the ordinary." I said, giving her a smile. "Anyway, I haven't asked how you've been."
Anthea stared at me, looking slightly startled.
"Uh, if you don't mind me asking, of course," I added hesitantly.
She seemed to relax slightly as I said this, her face's features softening.
"Sorry, John," she said apologetically. "It's not a question that I am entirely used to hearing, in all honesty. Generally the only people who would care enough to ask can take one look at me and know the answer. I suppose Ben was like that too, but – but that was a bit different."
I saw a look of emotion flash briefly across her face as she mentioned her recently deceased partner, but within seconds she had composed herself enough to quietly say "I am doing okay though."
I nodded and gave her a reassuring smile, wondering how she was really coping, having brothers like Sherlock and Mycroft and I couldn't help but to think that she wasn't getting the support that she needed. I gathered that Mycroft would be a bit better than Sherlock, but my confidence in the eldest brother wasn't the greatest. I had thought that Sherlock had changed somewhat after seeing his little sister bruised and upset, but it seemed to be nothing more than a few hours of apparent shock and more hatred than usual towards his brother.
"Don't blame Sherlock, John." Anthea said calmly. "He doesn't understand emotions at the best of times; he just knows that sometimes he can manipulate people by using them. Of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings, he is just very good at hiding them. You should have seen him with our late grandmother. He was her favourite, and they would spend hours and hours together when we were younger."
That would explain how he acted towards Mrs Addison, I thought with a slight smile.
"No, asking Sherlock to support me through something like this is like trying to get a young child to explain the meaning of life; it just cannot be done in the way that you would imagine." Anthea added.
"Does that not bother you?" I asked before I thought about what I was asking her.
Anthea winced ever-so-slightly and looked down to her almost empty dinner place, making me feel very guilty.
"You have no idea," she said quietly, her voice wrought with emotion, more than I was expecting at least.
"I'm sorry," I attempted to say, but she waved my apology off.
"There is still a lot for you to learn about him, John." She told me, her voice level again once more. "But I am sure you have noticed that he is probably one of the most brilliant minds in England for the time being, but he is very flawed."
"Yeah, I may have noticed that," I said, wondering how she could have expected me to not notice.
"Well, he has an expert amount of knowledge in so many different fields, doesn't he, but when it comes to other matters that are beyond his control, he's an utter mess and most times completely useless."
"Like what?"
"Well, like relationships for one." She said a small smile on her face. "I would have thought you of all people would have noticed that people-skills aren't exactly a strong point for him. In his defence though, he does have the capabilities of loving and caring about others, it just doesn't happen naturally and I don't think he enjoys allowing himself to be in situations like that; to him it makes him weaker. Caring, apparently, is not an advantage." She finished distastefully.
I looked away from her for a few moments, wondering if I could take advantage of this situation to ask her a question.
"You gave me an impression that you heard about the whole Irene Adler thing," I asked somewhat half-heartedly. "Do you think he was in love with her?"
"I did hear about that whole fiasco, yes." She said slowly, her eyes fixed on me. "But do I think that my brother was in love with the woman who single-handedly almost brought the country's economy to a standstill?" She paused, a small, almost pride-like smile passing across her soft lips. "Well, I don't think that Sherlock would appreciate his best friend and his sister talking about his – for want of a better word – love life behind his back."
I gave her a slight smile, in my mind, her actions had already confirmed what I had thought, and I could tell that she knew it too.
"So I take it that your newest girlfriend has left you?" She asked me, getting the attention off her brother and Irene Adler to which I gave a very heavy, inward groan.
"Sherlock told you about Christmas?" I assumed somewhat grumpily, considering it had all been because of Mycroft and Sherlock; sort of…
"Sherlock tell me something like that?" she asked with her eyebrows raise. "No, I read it in your blog."
"You read my blog?"
"Of course," Anthea said with a smile. "How else am I supposed to know what my brother is up to?"
"Valid point," I said, not able to imagine Sherlock calling his siblings to give them a run-down of his life.
"Quite," she said her smile widening. "Mycroft reads it also. He said it was the next best thing to getting you to spy on Sherlock for him. Of course, he also has to make sure you aren't posting any international secrets," she added lightly.
"Mycroft told you about that, asking me to spy on Sherlock?"
"Well, after you had mentioned that Mycroft had kidnapped you back when we first met in his offices, I asked Mycroft what you had meant by it." Anthea told me seriously. "I wondered what exactly he had been doing since I had been gone, and he reluctantly told me about requesting that you get in his car and go for a short, unsuspicious ride with his personal assistant. I think Mycroft was quite impressed with how you handled the whole situation, although he was rather surprised by how loyal you were to Sherlock despite having just met him."
"I wasn't being loyal," I protested. "I just wasn't interested in the money from a man with a power complex."
"Mmm," she murmured sceptically, but she gave me a warm smile. "The point is Mycroft and I could finally relax a bit. I know he would never admit it, but you are very good for Sherlock, John, and I hope you realise that if you ever left him, we would hunt you down and drag you back to Baker Street again. He needs you."
"I replaced his skull, did you know that." I said, not really believing what she had said. The only thing Sherlock Holmes needed was an audience.
"He still has it then?" she said, sounding amused.
"Yeah, when Mrs Hudson hasn't hidden it from him,"
Anthea gave a small laugh before draining the remainder of her wine, checking her watch as she did so.
"We'd best get back," she said, stopping one of the waiters for the bill. "Go halves?" she added and I smiled gratefully back to her.
