Chapter Forty-Five
'This is so not my area,' Sherlock declared, scrubbing at his scalp with his fingertips, but carefully avoiding the two still-sensitive spots, from his most recent misadventure. He had been scouring the Internet for hours, bookmarking every reference he could find to the plight of the Amazonian Indians but, most particularly, items referring to the hydroelectric and mining plans for Chi'ipa's particular river. The more he read, the more frustrated he felt. This was a humanitarian disaster going on, right under everyone's noses, yet hardly anyone seemed to be trying to do anything about it.
The complicated legal issues he found mind-numbingly convoluted. The phrase 'relevant public interest' was like a 'get out of gaol' card, a catch-all clause with which to rubberstamp any action that promised a lucrative return for the already rich and powerful. He knew he was completely out of his depth with this but, after what Chi'ipa and his people had done for him and the lengths they had gone to – trekking for miles and miles through the forest to find him and ask for his help – he could not betray the trust they had placed in him.
That old chestnut, 'caring', was rearing its ugly head again. Once that bug bit you, you were permanently infected. There was no cure. You just had to learn to live with the consequences.
Henrique, fortunately, with his background in the legal profession, was more than able to explain the finer points of law to him and he knew people in the business who would be able to offer advice, make recommendations and devise stratagems.
'What is needed here, Sherlock, is a team approach,' he suggested. 'We need to put together the best team possible of experts in the various fields implicated here. So that includes constitutional law, land ownership, international laws of human rights, the law on monopolies and international trading laws. All these different aspects have a bearing on this case. But what you bring to the table is your analytical, deductive reasoning. You can assimilate all these facts and plot a route through them. You will be able to view the problem from every possible angle and, therefore, see things that someone looking from only one perspective would not see. That is your area.'
Henrique clapped him on the shoulder and gave him an avuncular smile.
'You do your 'thing', Sherlock, and let the experts do theirs. Together, we can make a difference.'
Sherlock pursed his lips and nodded his agreement. Very few people in his life had ever spoken to him in this way – in a fatherly way, not over-bearing but encouraging. It felt very strange but also rather pleasant. It sort of reminded him of Greg Lestrade in the early days, when they first met, and a little bit of John Watson, on certain issues. And it also reminded him of Rocky, his friend of just five days, who had been the reason for him coming back here, after all. It made him realise that, although he might have missed out on being properly parented when he was a child, he had certainly been blessed with a rich supply of father figures in his adult life.
ooOoo
He and Molly had decided that the next morning would be the right time for the family to return to the hotel. They would take the boys back and make sure they felt safe and secure, spend a family day by the pool and have that long delayed trip to the ice cream parlour.
But then Sherlock would need to focus his attention on reading and absorbing all the information he had bookmarked and trying to find a viable strategy to put before the legal team that Henrique was putting together.
'I'm sorry, Molly, I'm going to be a bit preoccupied for the last few weeks of our holiday,' he remarked, ruefully, when they were alone, having put the boys to bed at Caro's home for the last time.
'That's OK,' she replied, ruffling his hair, affectionately. 'I'm going to be pretty busy myself.'
He looked at her with a wrinkled brow.
'While you and Henrique were discussing legal strategy, Caro had a proposition to put to me. She's been in touch with the charity that produces the birthing kits and has volunteered the Centre as a distribution point. What she has in mind is that, rather than simply handing out the kits in public places and hoping the women use them when the time comes, that we run an education programme on the importance of hygiene during the birthing process.
Caro has suggested that we actually teach the girls and women not only how to use the kits but also how to recognise the onset of some of the most common birthing complications and how to respond to these symptoms and, hopefully, help prevent deaths in childbirth – both of the mothers and the babies. She's asked me if I would devise an education programme and deliver some classes while I'm still here. I've said I would.'
Sherlock gave a very wry smile.
'Caro certainly knows how to maximise her use of resources,' he remarked.
Molly looked offended.
'Don't you think I'm up to the task?' she challenged.
He immediately held up a placatory hand then put his arms around her and placed an admiring kiss on each cheek.
'I cannot think of a better person to do it,' he declared, with utter sincerity. 'The women will listen to you. Maria has told them all how you delivered her baby. She is the best possible marketing asset – a satisfied customer.'
'Well, we'll see how it goes. If I can give them an idea of what to look out for and what to avoid, without scaring them half to death, then I'll feel I've done my job well. And the boys can spend the time at the centre doing whatever appeals to them while I'm doing the talks. I've said I'll put myself at the Centre's disposal for the mornings and that still leaves the afternoons to do family stuff.'
That seemed like a satisfactory arrangement all round. William would be able to spend time with Rodrigo and the other boys and work on his Portuguese, which was already pretty fluent. Freddie would be able to schmooze his way around all the young girls at the Centre and increase his posse of adoring fans still further – as well as learning a little Portuguese along the way. It was a total win-win situation.
ooOoo
Molly packed the demonstration Birthing Kit back into its zip lock bag and placed it in the box, along with the other props that she had been using to give her talks on safer childbirth. Today had been her very last one.
All things considered, they had been very successful. The women and girls who had attended – some already pregnant, some not yet pregnant nor thinking of becoming so any time soon and some past the age of becoming pregnant but often called upon to act as midwives – had all listened and watched with rapt attention as she talked about good hygiene practices, explained how to use the components of the birthing kits and what to do if things didn't go according to plan.
Courtesy of the Children's Centre – which was fast becoming a Community Centre – each neighbourhood had been given an emergency prepaid mobile phone which could be recharged and 'topped up' at the Centre, as and when necessary, to use to call the doctor who worked with the Rocky Foundation. If he wasn't able to attend a birthing emergency himself, he had a number of colleagues who were willing to stand in and help out.
This final session had been especially poignant for Molly as Maria had turned up, quite unexpectedly, and brought Baby Molly who was now five weeks old and a picture of health and vitality. She had heard it was Molly's 'last day' and she had, unbeknown to Molly herself, organised a little 'thank you' presentation.
This consisted of a little 'birthing' drama put on by the younger girls which, though rather slap-stick and hilariously funny, demonstrated that they had taken on board all the advice Molly had been able to give. There was also the presentation of some handmade gifts for Molly, the boys and even one for Sherlock. This was a carved wooden spoon with the image of a dragon, engraved on the back of the bowl using a hot metal stylus, to commemorate his encounter with The Dragon Aunt.
Molly had been feeling quite weepy all morning so it would not have taken much to tip her over the edge and the little drama did just that so she had to reassure all the young thespians that these were happy tears. Being hormonal had contributed quite considerably to her emotional fragility and this had not gone unnoticed by the wiley older members of the ladies' group. So Molly had been doubly surprised to be presented with a beautifully embroidered christening bonnet.
'Para o novo bebê,' Maria had said, when she pressed it into Molly's hand. That had precipitated even more tears and prompted William to explain to all present,
'Oh, don't worry. That's just a Mummy Moment,' which had pretty much brought the house down, to his great consternation since he was not accustomed to being laughed at or kissed and hugged by so many females at the same time.
Molly carried the box of teaching props into the rear office, where it was to be kept for the new person – a local retired nurse – who was going to carry on the good work using Molly's syllabus as a template. Raoul was there, at his desk as usual, beavering away at the financial records, making sure every penny of donated money was accounted for. He looked up and smiled.
'We will be seeing you again, before you go home, won't we, senhora?' he asked.
'Oh, yes,' Molly replied. 'At Baby Molly's christening, for one,' she added. 'I take it you're coming to that?'
'Yes, indeed. Both my wife and I have been invited. We would not want to miss it.'
Maria's baby was to be christened at the local church in two days' time. Molly and Sherlock had been asked to be Godparents. Sherlock was a little reluctant, initially.
'Surely, in order to be a Godparent one has to have a belief in said deity?' he questioned.
'One only needs to have the best interests of the child at heart,' Molly explained, pragmatically. 'And it would be rude to refuse. Ru'e and Maria would be hurt.'
'What, hurt that I hadn't doomed their child to Eternal Damnation for agreeing to do something I didn't actually believe in?'
'Well, if you don't believe in God, you can't believe in Eternal Damnation either so the risk is non-existent.'
Even Sherlock couldn't argue with the logic of that statement so he had agreed to accept the honour.
He would be back from Sao Paulo later today, having been there for the best part of a week meeting with the team of lawyers Henrique had put together to represent Chi'ipa's people. He and Henrique had both given practically every waking moment, for the past three weeks, to that particular cause, leaving Caro, Molly and the boys to entertain themselves. But neither Molly nor Caro minded.
Molly was delighted to see the 'thrill of the chase' look return to Sherlock's eyes, but in an environment that presented no prospect of physical danger greater than the consequences of lack of sleep. As ever, when the game was 'on', sleep was an alien concept. Henrique got a taste of what John Watson had become accustomed to – the Energiser Bunny Sherlock, who just kept running and running until he suddenly keeled over in a power nap then awoke and picked up exactly where he'd left off.
Caro was secretly pleased to see her husband so enthused about something. Since his retirement, he seemed to have become a mere shadow of his true self – the energetic, dynamic man she knew and loved. Now he was committed to this cause, the years had dropped away and he seemed more like her Henrique. She knew this would be his life's work now, something he could get his teeth into even after Sherlock and Molly returned to their lives on the other side of the world.
Molly said goodbye to Raoul, called to William and Freddie and left the centre, climbing into Caro's car for the return trip to the hotel. She and the boys would have lunch then spend the afternoon around the pool, waiting for Sherlock to get back. Their time in Brazil was coming to an end. So much had happened – both good and bad – but it had certainly been a holiday of a lifetime for the family and one that she, for one, would never forget.
ooOoo
She was sitting on the edge of the paddling pool when she heard William shriek, 'Daddy!' and looked up to see Sherlock, dressed in his linen suit, Ray-Ban wrap-arounds and rakish fedora, striding round the edge the pool, stooping to scoop up William who had scrambled from the trainer pool and was now hoisted into the air, dripping water from his hair and swim shorts.
Molly's heart swelled inside her chest. It was incredible how just the sight of him could do that to her, even after all the time they had been together. She would never out-grow that girlish feeling of infatuation that she had experienced the very first time she set eyes on him.
Looking round the pool, she could see so many pairs of eyes tracking his progress. She noted how all the men sucked in their guts, straightened their shoulders and puffed out their chests like pouter pigeons; how all the women struck a pose, turning their heads to present their best profile, broke out the dazzling smiles.
There was a time, not so long ago, that she would have felt intimidated by these bathing beauties, with their flawless figures and sculpted features, but not anymore. Sherlock had proven time and time again that he was not impressed by their fake tans and botoxed brows. He only ever had eyes for his diminutive pathologist, as indeed was now the case.
As she scooped Freddie up out of the water and stepped onto the side of the pool, he caught sight of her and his features softened. Even though she couldn't see his eyes through the mirrored sun glasses, she knew his pupils would be expanding.
'Look, Freddie, Daddy's back,' she said, pointing him out to the toddler before putting him down on the tiled surface, to run to his father. She smiled at the look of delight on Sherlock's face as he picked up the wriggling toddler and blew a loud raspberry on his are belly, causing Freddie to wriggle and giggle even more.
And now he was advancing on her, with one child perched in the crook of his elbow and the other on his back, pulling her in with his free arm and pressing his lips to hers, making her head swim. Could it be possible to love someone as much as she loved him? Well, clearly, it was. She was the living proof. But to then have that love returned in equal measure? That surely was in the realms of fantasy? Apparently not.
'Hmmm, so good to be back,' he said, smiling down at her, confirming with the sincerity of that smile that he meant every single syllable. 'Everything alright?'
'Good to have you back, and, yes, everything is fine. The boys really love it here. They're going to miss the pool,' she replied, slipping her arm round his waist and feeling his body respond to her touch in a silent promise of things to come, later, when the boys were in bed.
'And what about you? Will you miss anything?' he asked, knowing that she would miss Caro and Henrique and everyone at the Centre, whom she had grown to love and who loved her back.
'It's lovely here but I'm looking forward to getting home,' she replied, placing her free hand on her stomach – still flat despite the new life growing there and already making its presence felt through chemical communication via her pituitary gland .
His expression changed to one of concern.
'Everything's OK, isn't it?'
He was just as concerned for the well-being of this new baby as she was – possibly more, since he was not as closely in touch with the little person-to-be. She smiled back, reassuringly.
'Everything is absolutely OK. Better than OK!'
'No sickness?' he asked, giving her a penetrating look which brooked no denial of the full facts.
'Not so far, touch wood.'
That was good to hear. Her previous pregnancies had been blighted by pretty severe emesis gravidarum, which had manifested itself at around this point in the proceedings and persisted on and off through to the end of the second trimester.
'I know it's early days but it feels different this time,' she remarked.
'Different how?' he asked, slightly concerned that wishful thinking was gaining a foothold in her otherwise sound, scientist's mind.
'I can't explain, just different,' she replied, a little lamely.
She knew she was tempting fate but she could do nothing about it. In her heart, she was convinced this baby was a girl. She cautioned herself not to invest too heavily in old wives' tales, myths and apocryphal tales. Whatever the gender of this baby, it would be welcomed into the world and into the family and it would be loved and cherished.
'How were the talks?' she asked, deflecting any further enquiries about her own wellbeing.
He shook his head and gave a small shrug.
'Tedious, boring, frustrating and infuriating but I think we've put together a good case. Time will tell.'
'Daddy, do you remember what you promised before you went away?' William chimed in.
Sherlock wrinkled his brow and gazed up to the heavens, feigning ignorance, but William was not taken in.
'You do remember, I know you do,' William insisted, 'and Freddie knows you do, too, don't you, Freddie?'
'Eye-keem,' declared Freddie, emphatically.
'See, Freddie knows,' William confirmed, with a satisfied grin.
'Oh, that promise!' Daddy Holmes suddenly remembered. He removed his arm from Molly's waist and looked at his watch.
'Oh, what a shame! The ice cream parlour is closed!' he replied, shaking his head, sadly.
'Noooooo!' squealed William, 'you know it isn't closed. You're a naughty daddy!'
'Notty dada!' agreed Freddie.
Out-numbered and out-thought, Sherlock had to concede defeat.
'Oh, OK, you win. I suppose we better get you lot dried and dressed and get along there. I hear there's been a rush on ice cream. They might even have sold out.'
'Noooooooo!' squealed William and Freddie in unison as Sherlock turned and carried his two boys back toward the hotel foyer and Molly collected up their belongings from the sun lounger and followed on behind, smiling happily to herself.
ooOoo
