5
Molly placed her carry-on bag on the rack above the carriage seats and sat in her reserved one. As she leaned back she felt her whole body, muscles and mind, relax. Talking to Sherlock had done her good and knowing he would take matters into his hands had calmed her down.
Molly had explained to him that she and Vanessa had never been friend as Stapleton claimed but mere acquaintances. Their rooms were facing each other in the little boarding house where Molly had found lodging as soon as she arrived in London. Sometimes they met in the common kitchen and exchanged a few words, "You know, the usual things you say when you meet someone for the first time". Sherlock had raised an eyebrow as if to tell her he had no idea what she meant, "Not everyone is able to deduce who is in front of us! We mere mortals have to make conversation to get to know each other!" she explained teasingly.
At different times, Vanessa had told Molly about herself, for example she was born and raised in Liverpool but her dream had always been to live in London and as soon as she found a job as a beautician, she packed up and left. She had mentioned the possibility of going to live with her boyfriend, who was a doctor in a private clinic, but was hesitant as he was particularly jealous and Vanessa feared he would clip her wings.
Molly hadn't expected it but it had been quite painful for her to retrace what happened the morning the fire, in which Vanessa died, was started. "Take your time" Sherlock had told her, closing his eyes to best store in his Mind Palace the information she was about to provide.
"I had the afternoon shift that day but I got up early anyway because at ten I had an appointment with Meena to go see a flat. I was returning to my room after having breakfast when I heard voices coming from Vanessa's room. I didn't understand what they were saying each other because their tone was low, but his voice was angry".
"Was it Winston?" Sherlock asked opening only one eye to look at her and Molly nodded, "Her door was ajar and I saw him sitting on her bed putting on his shoes. When I left my room half an hour later, their discussion had become more violent. I saw Winston was holding her with his own body against the wall. He had a hand on her throat and he was yelling at her that she shouldn't even think about leaving him".
Molly took a moment to calm the tremble she heard in her voice, "I knocked on her door and asked Vanessa if she needed help, if I should call someone. She said no, I didn't need to worry because she had everything under control. So I left and walked towards the tube station".
But halfway through she had been seized by a sense of anguish, a kind of dark foreboding and turned around. When she got to the boarding house flames were already blazing high. Someone had already called firefighters but there was nothing more for Vanessa to do. "She was the only victim. Me and the other three guest girls were out so as the landlady", Molly wrapped her report up sadly.
Sherlock asked her why she did Vanessa's postmortem since she had only recently been working at Bart's, "Dr Bowman had all of us new hires do postmortems from day one" Molly explained, adding as he is nearing retirement, he wanted to see who among them could replace him. Dr Bowman was a very demanding doctor who would never have given her the opportunity to have an autopsy on her own if he hadn't had the utmost confidence in her.
A tap on the window brought Molly back to reality and Jordan Maddox's bearded, smiling face appeared before of her and immediately put her in a good mood. Within a few seconds the man entered the carriage "Hey, are you ready?" he arranged his luggage and sank into his seat with a sigh. Molly cracked a smile "And you?" she asked back looking at the sliding door waiting to see his unknown girlfriend appear after him.
"Your fiancé? Wasn't she supposed to come too?", Jordan straightened his hair and ran his hands over his thighs to smooth his jeans "Yes, she had a setback. She'll join us at the pub this evening" he leaned over to the bag he had placed on the ground near his feet and pulled out a folder.
"And you? What about your friend?" he asked handing over her some sheets on which he had scribbled the order in which the topics of their study were to be presented, "I'm alone, he…my friend has family commitments".
As Molly travelled to Scotland, Sherlock was standing in front of a reinforced glass and looking alternatively at the two drawing sheets of paper he was holding and at his so-called 'family commitments' who was sitting, eyes closed and cross-legged, on her bed. "Eurus…Eurus please explain to me what these mean" he said in the firmest tone he was capable of.
She didn't move. Sherlock looked at the sketches again. In the first there was a small country town, with cottages and small houses, few shops, a church. In the second was a single red brick cottage, a fence to include it and surrounded by trees and various greenery. At the top right of the page, in block capitals was written PROTECT MOLLY HOOPER.
"Protect Molly from whom? From what? What place is this?" Sherlock's tone grew more urgent but all he got from his sister was a short sigh. He then decided to change tactics, "Eurus" he began in a lower and more affectionate voice, "Help me understand, please. I thought we had gone beyond riddles and games, little sis" he said, turning his back to her and gesturing to pick up the bag where his violin was stored.
"Protect her, Sherlock", her uneasy voice surprised him and forced him to turn around. No change was notable to an inexpert eye – same posture, same expressionless face, eyes still closed. Yet…yet Sherlock noticed a slight tremor in her chin. She was not ready to talk, not yet. "I will, I promise" he whispered and got into the lift leaving the high-security section of Sherrinford.
When the lift opened, Dr Abbington was waiting for him. Sherlock returned the papers to him saying "I want you to send me any new drawing, sketch or scribble my sister will do from now on". The specialist nodded "Do you think she has a premonition about Miss Hooper?", Sherlock rolled his eyes wondering if the man was really that naïve.
"She is a genius not a witch, doctor" he replied annoyed starting to leave, but he thought better to stop halfway because if Molly were there she'd probably scold him for being so unkind. He was positively impressed with himself at how much she was affecting his behaviour. He bit his lip and offered his apologies to Dr Abbington, "No premonition…it's something Eurus is aware of, something from the past. Please keep me updated" he said, then turned on himself, his coat swirling, and took the stairs that led him to the exit where the helicopter awaited him.
Molly grinned at Lucy, the only female student in the group she and Jordan assisted, as the girl cheered on her pint glass. She looked up at the side entrance of the pub from which Jordan seemed to have been sucked in ten minutes earlier when he got up from the table saying his girlfriend's cab was on the way and went out to greet her.
The pub was coming to life, the tables were almost all taken and the karaoke had begun. Two of Molly's students had already entered the fray and on the small stage set up for that purpose they were singing at the top of their lungs an old Take That's song. The presentation of their research had been a success. The medical commission and the scientific journalists who were there voted unanimously for them, opening the doors to interesting job offers to those young students. Their euphoria was therefore more than justified.
Stepping out of the cab Sherlock looked up at the pub's sign and sighed as he heard the noise of chattering and music coming from inside. This kind of place wasn't exactly his favourite but he was willing to swallow the pill to show Molly how much he cared about her, how essential she had become to him. Then he took a deep breath and after paying the cab driver, he gave a firm push to the massive black door.
As soon as Sherlock crossed the threshold he was overwhelmed by the noise of people, more or less sober, sitting at tables or at the counter chatting, drinking and eating happily. He took off his coat, folding it over his forearm and headed towards the centre of the room, carefully observing occupants of each table in search of Molly and her students.
As Sherlock moved close he heard the music increase and noticed a small group of people gathered around a small stage singing in unison with the two girls who were on stage. Sherlock was fascinated to see Lucy, he easily deduced she was Molly's protégé by her red hair, and Molly holding microphones. They danced, laughed, and sang tripping over the song's words.
Yeah, I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars/On a collision course/I am a satellite I'm out of control/I am a sex machine ready to reload/Like an atom bomb about to/oh oh oh oh oh to explode
What they sang didn't make much sense to Sherlock but seeing Molly so carefree and joyful made him more steadfast than ever to protect her from any evil. He had always feared she might become a target if he ever revealed his feelings for her, but the alternative, that is walk away from her and keep her at a safe distance was not something he wanted to consider anymore.
Just thinking he couldn't even just hold her hand made him feel sick. He'd told himself over and over in the last period Molly was safer next to him than the contrary, and so there he was watching her enjoy singing karaoke. His heart squeezed when he noticed she was aware of his presence.
Molly's eyes widened in surprise and she instinctively covered her flushed cheeks with her hands and, as Lucy closed the performance, she gave him a beaming smile. That smile warmed him deep in his heart, spreading its heat throughout his body enough to prompt him to take faster steps to get closer and take her in his arms.
Sherlock made his way to the stage unable to take his eyes off Molly. She was utterly beautiful, warm and bright like a sunshine's ray. Everything around them seemed to disappear and Sherlock laughed to himself thinking he felt like he was the main character of one of the many romantic movies he had seen with Molly while snuggled on the sofa in Baker Street or her flat.
But it was all real. Molly releasing herself from Lucy's embrace and giving the micro to the next 'singer', her slow approaching the ladder to get off the stage while with one hand she brought her long hair behind an ear.
All Sherlock wanted was for this to be their night. He had made sure he had a connecting room to Molly's and had made arrangements with the hotel staff to have the room properly set up for when they returned. He had forced himself not to think, at least for the next few hours, either of his sister's creepy illustrations or of Martin Stapleton's subtle threats. For those he and Molly had plenty of time when they returned to London.
Moving closer, Sherlock felt his heartbeats increase in pace until they were strong as a drum, and his salivation was zeroed. He was eager to take Molly in his arms, kiss her properly this time and feel their bodies blend together. This thought terrified and excited him at the same time. What if he didn't live up to her expectations or her previous boyfriends?
Hadn't she had plenty of sex with that Meat Dagger-Tom? Oh, to hell with it! It was true it had been some time since he had been so intimate with a woman, but no one had ever complained about him the next day! So he ordered his mind to stop whirling and himself to stop worrying and enjoying the feeling.
Sherlock was a couple of steps away from Molly, he grinned and spread his arms a little to welcome her, "Oh my God! Is it really you?". A woman with long wavy black hair, wrapped up in skinny jeans and a dark blue low neckline blouse, stepped between Sherlock and Molly.