Chapter Seven

After breakfast, Sherlock took the boys off to get them ready to go to the Children's Centre, while Molly showered and dressed then took over childcare duties while Sherlock did the same. It was while Sherlock was in the shower that the landline rang. Molly picked it up.

'Ah, Molly, I'm so glad it's you.' It was Caro. 'I have some unfortunate news.'

'Oh, nothing serious, I hope?' Molly replied, concerned.

'Well, that depends on one's point of view. I know Sherlock said he didn't want any fanfares or razzamatazz when he came to meet the staff and the children and to have a look around the Centre but I'm afraid Ru'e and Maria have taken it upon themselves to organise a reception for you and your family. I don't know how he's going to take that,' Caro explained.

Molly thought about this news then said.

'Don't worry, Caro. I just won't tell him. If we turn up and it happens, he'll just have to go with it. I'll take full responsibility.'

'Are you sure, Molly? I would hate to cause trouble between you.'

'Oh, it won't come to that. He can be quite resilient when he has to be. We'll see you there.'

When Sherlock emerged from the bedroom, Molly gave him an appraising look. In his cream linen suit, white shirt and Oxford shoes, he looked like a catwalk model. She had to resist the urge to say 'wow!' But she cocked her head on one side. He looked at her, wrinkled his brow and shrugged.

'What?' he asked.

'You know, you could do with a hat.'

'I hate hats,' he replied, emphatically.

'But you would look great in a hat!'

'Why would I care what I look like?'

'Sherlock Holmes, don't give me that. If you didn't care about your appearance, you wouldn't go around dressed like you do.'

'Alright, I like to look smart. I don't care about looking great.'

'But I do! And, anyway, in this strong sunlight and with your pale skin tone, you need a hat for health reasons.'

'I've already used the sunscreen.'

'OK, but there's heatstroke, too. Lots of men wear hats in the Tropics.'

'I'm not 'lots of men'. I'm just myself.'

'A panama hat would be perfect. It would really suit you.'

'Molly…'

'No, trust me, I know what I'm talking about.'

He looked at her, slightly exasperated. She could be so insistent, sometimes.

'There's a shop in the hotel foyer that sells panamas. Just try one on. You might like it.'

Sherlock knew when he was beaten. Molly would not give in until he'd tried on a damn hat. OK, he would try one on and then she would see that hats did not suit him. Molly could tell she had won that round. She smiled, stood on tiptoe to peck him on the cheek and then called to the boys that it was time to go. Caro's car was picking them up at ten thirty so they had time to call into the hotel shop on the way to the front entrance.

As they entered the shop, a young man came forward and asked how he could assist them.

'Mr Holmes would like to try on a panama, please,' Molly spoke up before Sherlock could make a break for freedom.

'Of course, madam. What is your hat size, sir?'

'I have no idea,' Sherlock replied, tight-lipped.

The young man perused him with a practiced eye then selected a hat from the display. He handed it to Sherlock, who looked at it, looked at Molly, pursed his lips and frowned then, finally, submitted and plonked the hat on his head.

'May I, sir?' the young man asked, politely. Sherlock nodded his consent. The sales assistant reached up and adjusted the hat on Sherlock's head so that it sat at a rakish angle, slightly tipped over his right eye. He invited his reluctant customer to view the effect in the mirror. Sherlock turned, stiffly, toward the looking glass on the counter and was rather surprised by what he saw. The panama actually looked rather good on him.

He turned his head from side to side, giving the hat an appraising look then decided to ask his most trusted advisor for their opinion.

'William, what do you think? Should I get the hat?'

William had been watching the whole process with interest.

'I think it suits you, Daddy. You should get it.'

Molly smiled. Sherlock trusted William's judgement and he knew that his son could not be coerced into saying anything that he didn't actually believe. She was just relieved that the little boy approved the choice. Meanwhile, Sherlock was completing the purchase with his credit card.

'Should I wrap the hat, sir?' the young man asked.

'No, I'll wear it, thank you,' came the reply, as the newly instated hat man slipped his Ray-Bans on to complete the look. Molly simply shook her head in admiration. Sherlock could wear a bin bag – he would still look beautiful

The family left the shop and walked out to the waiting car. Molly was impressed to see that Caro had provided a child seat for Freddie and a booster seat for William. She was such a considerate woman, with an almost supernatural ability to know what other people were thinking. It puzzled Molly as to how this incredibly empathic woman could have been such good friends with Sherlock's mother. She knew very little about Violet Holmes but what she did know suggested a self-obsessed, unemotional woman – the polar opposite of Caro. It was said that opposites attracted but how could they be so close, with so little in common? Molly had to remind herself not to prejudge. Most people thought she and Sherlock were polar opposites. They were quite wrong.

ooOoo

The journey to the Children's Centre was uneventful, except for Freddie giving his usual running commentary on the passing scenery. As the car approached the Centre, drawing up to the front entrance this time, Sherlock's expression tightened.

'What on earth…..?'

Molly looked out of the window to see colourful banners and bunting stretched across the forecourt of the building and hanging from the walls and windows. As they turned in through the gates, she could see a large group of people, mostly children of various shapes, sizes and ages, lined up across the front of the centre, all dressed in what looked like their Sunday best and over to the left was a small musical ensemble comprising a couple of guitars and some brass instruments. As the car drew to a halt, the band began to play loud and lively music.

She looked at Sherlock. He was ashen.

'They wanted to do it, Sherlock. They needed to say 'thank you' for everything you've done for them. Please, don't deny them the pleasure of saying it their way,' Molly exhorted.

'You knew about this?'

'I knew about something. Caro rang while you were in the shower. I didn't know what they were planning, exactly.'

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Don't be obtuse. You know why! Now, you take care of William and just let Freddie handle this. He'll be in his element! You and William can freak out quietly, together. But, please, do try to smile!'

With that, Molly lifted Freddie out of the child seat and accepted the hand of the chauffeur, who had opened the passenger door and now assisted her from the car. She stepped toward the welcoming committee of mostly little girls, with straight black hair, olive skin and dazzling smiles, dressed in brightly coloured, frilly dresses and holding little posies of flowers. Freddie took one look at the assembly, grinned from ear to ear and squealed with excitement, to the delight of all those present.

Sherlock climbed, reluctantly, from the opposite side of the car and reached back inside for William.

'Come on then, Will, we must face the music. I'm sorry. Had I known, I would have brought ear plugs.'

He hoisted William up into the crook of his arm and walked round the car, where he was met by Ru'e, grinning broadly.

'Good surprise, eh, Holmes?' the young man chortled, offering his hand to shake.

Sherlock took his friend's hand and did manage to smile, after all. The obvious pleasure and delight of all the people around him was impossible to dismiss. Molly was right, as usual. They needed to do this, to say 'thank you'. It was only fair that he let them have this pleasure.

Molly was going along the row of little girls, graciously accepting the posies and when her hands became full – which didn't take long, since she was already burdened with Freddie - handing them on to Caro, who was now walking beside her acting as interpreter. Freddie needed no such assistance. He just smiled and giggled and accepted all the ooh's and ah's, tickles and kisses as though they were his birth right. She glanced back toward Sherlock and was relieved to see that he was playing the game, allowing himself to be introduced to the staff by a young man whom Molly assumed must be Ru'e, and he was actually smiling and making conversation.

When all the introductions were completed, Ru'e walked to the front of the crowd and held up a hand. The band stopped playing, immediately, and all the chatter stopped too. Sherlock stood back, trying to look inconspicuous, but being head and shoulders taller than anyone else did rather militate against that. Ru's began to speak and Caro translated his words for Molly's benefit.

'Ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters, we are honoured today with a visit from our good friend, Holmes, who has come all the way from London in England to see us. Many years ago, my friend Rocky helped Holmes when he was in danger and, to say thank you for that help, Holmes built the Rocky Foundation so that we would all have somewhere to go to school, to be looked after when we are sick, to find food when we are hungry and to find friends when we are lonely. He has also helped many Street Children to find their long-lost families, as my Maria has done just yesterday. So, today, we will say welcome to Holmes and his family because they are part of our family and families take care of each other.'

As Ru'e finished speaking, there was loud applause from all the listeners and Molly had to blink and swallow hard to hold her emotions in check, as she saw Sherlock reach out and give the young man a one-armed hug and say something to him, which she could only imagine was a heartfelt thank you for that moving speech. He then, to her complete surprise, held up his hand, to quiet the crowd. Molly looked on in astonishment as Sherlock began to address the assembly. She looked to Caro for enlightenment and the lady obliged with a translation of his words.

'There is a saying in my country – one good turn deserves another. When Rocky found me, I was being hunted by some very bad people. He saved my life more than once and, in doing so, he lost his own. So this centre is my way of repaying Rocky for what he did for me and making sure that he is never forgotten.'

The cheering erupted once again and the musicians joined in with enthusiasm, as Caro turned to Molly and beckoned her to follow. The whole party moved inside the building and dispersed throughout the several rooms where lots of activities were set up for the children to show the guests of honour what sorts of things went on at the Centre on a normal day.

Molly was beginning to understand how royalty must feel and she could not help but admire them for doing this sort of thing on an almost daily basis. Although she was enjoying seeing all the children looking so healthy and well looked after, she was finding it hard to come to terms with the fact that all these children were estranged from their families, many were orphaned, some abandoned and others just lost. She wanted to take them all home and care for them. She felt immensely proud of Sherlock for having the idea to set this up and the grit and determination to see it become a reality, ably assisted by Mycroft and Caro, of course.

Freddie had taken himself off for a wander round the Centre, under the watchful eyes of a small group of girls who seemed to be completely enamoured of him. Molly watched as William, much more relaxed now that the music had ceased, allowed Sherlock to put him down on the floor and then approached a group of boys who were about his height, playing a game which Molly recognised as Jacks – where they had to bounce a ball and, in between bounces, scoop up a number of small pebbles that had been scattered on the floor.

The boys were taking turns and, with each round, the number of pebbles increased. The winner was the one who could pick up the most pebbles and still catch the ball before it bounced a second time. William stood and watched for a while until one of the boys offered the ball and the pebbles to him, inviting him to join in.

Satisfied that both the boys were being well looked after, Molly accepted an invitation from some older girls to watch a demonstration of dressmaking. Caro explained that the children made their own clothes, in the main, although they occasionally received donations of clothing from other charitable organisations.

'The older girls teach the younger ones how to sew and cook, so the skills are passed down in a rolling programme. It's the same with the boys. They show each other how to scavenge the rubbish tips and how to grow vegetables. We have a little garden out the back where they grow things. The children need to learn how to be self-sufficient and get by on very little. Work is hard to come by but we do have some friendly local businesses who can offer experience, now and then. And the girls can often get work in the hotels as chamber maids. If we can give them life skills, they have a better chance of getting on when they grow up.'

'But where do they live, Caro?' Molly asked.

'In the favela, in huts they mostly build themselves or that have been built by someone else and then abandoned for some reason. Sometimes, children just disappear.'

'Disappear?' Molly repeated, with a sense of apprehension.

'Yes, I'm afraid so. There is a fair amount of human trafficking here, largely for the sex industry. These children are very vulnerable. We do try to protect them as much as possible. The mere fact that we are a visible presence in their lives helps. There are easier pickings elsewhere, if you get my drift. The traffickers go for the least risky option. But, unfortunately, we can't always protect them all.'

Molly's face must have shown her revulsion at the image that Caro's words conjured in her mind.

'I'm sorry, Molly, I didn't mean to upset you,' Caro apologised but Molly shook her head.

'No, Caro, it's not you who's upsetting me, it's the people who do these terrible things. I'm just so grateful that there are people like you and the staff here who are so dedicated to caring for these children.'

'Well, if it weren't for Sherlock and Mycroft, we wouldn't be able to do any of this. They gave us the funds to get this started. And once you have a set up like this, it easier to attract other benefactors because they can see where the money is going to go. The garden party on Sunday is a fund-raiser. There'll be a lot of quite wealthy people there, looking for good causes to give their money to. I think you and Sherlock might be just what it takes to persuade them to choose this Centre to be the beneficiary of their tax avoidance strategies.'

Molly wasn't so sure.

'Sherlock's not like Mycroft, as I'm sure you've noticed. He doesn't really do diplomacy. He's more likely to insult them. He's rather good at that.'

Caro smiled.

'Then maybe he'll shame them into donating. There's more than one way to skin a cat.'

ooOoo