Chapter Forty-Three
For the following week, Sherlock was kept on a very tight rein by Molly, who monitored his activity levels and insisted he take regular rest and did not over-exert himself. He might have rebelled, were it not for the fact that he did find he tired easily and that he was having trouble with concentration and short-term memory. He kept quiet about this and just did as he was told, hoping to gain brownie points for being a good boy.
Toward the end of the week, as they lay in bed thinking about getting up for a leisurely breakfast, he broached the subject of returning to the hotel. He needed to know how Molly felt about living back there, where she and the boys had been so traumatised.
'I think it's important that we do return,' Molly declared. 'It's like when Mad Mother Moriarty was in our flat. I had to make myself go back there, otherwise she would have won. And I think it's important for the boys that we go back, too.'
'So, when would you like to return?' he asked.
'When you're back to normal,' she replied, adding, with a cheeky grin, 'or as close to normal as you ever are.'
'I am normal, now,' he stated, with a shrug.
'No, you're not,' she answered.
He gave her a quizzical look. When had she become so good at deducing him?
'Well, you're not, are you?' she insisted.
'Alright, I'm not but how do you know?' he asked.
'Well, for one thing, you haven't noticed that my period is two days late and that my temperature is elevated by one degree. And, yes, I know that's two things. Or that I didn't have any premenstrual symptoms this month and that is three things. So, you are really off your game, Mr Holmes.'
He looked at her, feeling slightly stunned, opening and closing his mouth a few times before breaking into a cautious grin.
'Are you sure?'
'Pretty sure.'
'Not completely sure?'
'Not sure enough to put an announcement in the paper or put its name down for a good school, that kind of sure, no. But you know me, I'm usually as regular as clockwork. And the fact that my boobs haven't been two cup sizes bigger than usual and throbbing fit to bust – pardon the pun - for the last week is a major indicator,' she concluded.
He pulled her to him and placed a big, wet kiss on her forehead before pressing his cheek to the top of her head.
'So when will you know for certain?' he asked.
'A week, maybe two,' she replied.
'Not long to wait, then.'
'No, not long.'
ooOoo
A week later, Molly was certain enough to risk a pregnancy test and got the two blue stripes she was hoping for. But she and Sherlock agreed to keep the news to themselves for now, rather than tempt fate – Molly being as superstitious as ever. They also decided it was time to move back to the hotel for the remainder of their trip.
Caro and Henrique were sorry to see them go, especially Caro who loved having the children around. But they understood the reasoning behind the decision and were comforted by the knowledge that the family were not that far away and still had three weeks of their holiday left.
Molly knew she needed to go back to the hotel without the children, first, and before that, to practice the relaxation and ideation techniques she had learned from Eve Matthews. Sherlock agreed to be her coach. They scheduled their first session for that very evening, as soon as the boys were in bed.
She lay on the bed, feeling calm and composed. Sherlock sat on the edge of the mattress, close enough for her to hold his hand if she needed to.
'Ok, tell me where you are,' he prompted.
'I'm sitting by the pool with the boys. We just had lunch so now Freddie is having his nap and William is playing on the tablet.'
'What's happening now?'
'My mobile is ringing. I fish it out of my bag and answer it. It's you. You're telling me to take the boys and go back to the suite, lock ourselves in and call Caro to come and get us.'
She could feel her heart rate begin to increase and hear it pounding in her ears. She paused and repeated the relaxation techniques until she felt back in control then continued. Moment by moment, she related and relived the whole terrifying ordeal, pausing when she felt her emotions getting the upper hand and going through the calming protocol, continuing when she felt able.
Sherlock, who had not previously heard this full, blow-by-blow account of the incident, listened with a mounting sense of horror at how close his family had come to being lost forever but also with an overwhelming feeling of respect for Molly's calm and efficient out-thinking of the thugs sent to 'deal' with her and the boys.
When the story ended with the paramedics, Caro and Agent Esteves taking them to safety along the third-floor corridor, Molly opened her eyes and looked at Sherlock.
'Should I have stayed in the hotel suite? Did I make it worse by trying to run away, when you told me to stay put?' she asked.
He put his hands on her shoulders and shook his head, vehemently.
'Absolutely not!' he declared. 'Your instincts were completely right. You were trapped there, cornered. If you had been in the suite, the goons would have gotten to you before Agent Esteves did and…'
He had to stop there because even contemplating what might have happened if Molly and the boys had been caught by two heavies was so unbearable, he couldn't bring himself to voice it. He closed his eyes and took a sharp intake of breath then lay down on the bed beside her with his head on her shoulder, wrapping his arm around her and holding her tight. She placed her hand on the back of his neck and breathed into his hair.
As the moment passed, Sherlock ran his hand down to rest on Molly's abdomen just above the pubic bone then slithered down the bed until his head was level with his hand and leaned in to whisper,
'Hello, little girl, are you listening? This is your daddy speaking. If you are only half as clever, brave and beautiful as your mother – which is probably the best we can hope for, since half of you comes from me – you will be a force of nature.'
Molly giggled and he looked up, in mock offense.
'I just gave you a glowing reference to our unborn child and you think it's funny?' he retorted, indignantly.
'She – and I can say with complete certainty that at this point in time she is a she, although whether she stays that way remains to be seen – is only three weeks gestated and, therefore, has no functional ears with which to hear your glowing reference, which I agree was glowing and I thank you for it.'
He crawled back up the bed to look her in the eye and said, with a very serious expression,
'I thought I was supposed to be the one with no soul. Can't a man employ a spot of poetic licence, once in a while? That's the trouble with you scientists, you always have to be so factually accurate.'
At which point, she pulled him down on top of her and bruised his lips with her own. When he came up for air, he said,
'We are still having sex, aren't we?'
'At this precise moment? No, I think I would have noticed,' she replied, acerbically. 'However, Mister Holmes, as one scientist to another I can assure you that, by now, my cervix has been sealed with a plug of mucus so whatever we get up to will have no effect on the baby except possibly, when she develops ears, she might want to complain about the noise.'
'I'll take that as a yes, then,' he replied, and set about making it so.
ooOoo
The following day, the couple left William and Freddie with Caro while they went back to the hotel to do the 'dummy run', as Molly called it. The Duty Manager was beside himself with relief that the family intended to resume their residency in the penthouse suite and wanted to accompany them up there to point out all the cleaning and tidying that had gone on in their absence but Sherlock insisted that this was not necessary and brushed him off with a politely dismissive gesture.
He and Molly entered the lift and he watched her, scanning for any signs of distress, but she was calm and relaxed, breathing evenly and showing no adverse responses whatsoever. When the lift stopped at the top floor and the doors opened, Sherlock squatted down and looked at the point where the Rubix Cube had been jammed into the tracking groove, stopping the door from closing.
'That was a great piece of deduction on your part, Molly, to realise you needed to disable the lift, and a brilliant piece of improvisation on William's part.'
'Well, living with you has rubbed off on me and he is your son, after all,' she replied.
He straightened up and gave her an old-fashioned look, shaking his head.
'Learn to take a compliment, Dr Hooper, please,' he admonished. She gave him an embarrassed smile and walked past him, out of the lift and along the corridor. But instead of going to their suite, she passed it and went through the door to the stair well. Standing on the landing, she leaned over the banister and looked down.
Three floors below, the third floor landing looked clean and polished and perfectly normal. There was nothing to remind her of the drama that had played out there just two weeks before. She turned and walked back onto the top corridor and along to their suite, putting the key card into the lock and pushing open the door.
They were met by the powerful scent of cut flowers. In the centre of the circular table was a huge vase full of a heady selection of roses, gardenias, orchids and lilies. A card lying next to the vase read:
From the staff and management of the Palace Hotel, with our sincerest apology for the recent lapse in attention to duty. Please be assured of our best efforts in the future.
'Oh, how sweet!' Molly cried.
'Yes,' commented Sherlock, with a wry purse of his lips. Flowers always reminded him of funerals, most especially lilies. Rather inappropriate, he thought, but Molly seemed delighted so he didn't pursue it. If she was happy, he was happy. He followed her out onto the balcony where they stood hand in hand, looking out at the glorious view.
'I've missed the ocean,' she said. 'Strange how you get used to a sound and a smell so much that you don't notice them – until they're not there.'
She breathed in the ozone scent and listened to the crashing waves and thought how much it reminded her of making love. Despite everything bad that had happened, this had been a magical holiday. And it wasn't even over yet.
ooOoo
A/N: Since a number of people have raised this question, for clarification of the country of origin for Violet's lover, can I please refer you to this website? - wikipedia - Expulsion of Asians from Uganda. I hope this clears up any confusion.
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