Chapter Two
JWJ: I've never done this alone before, but I found the story on Meg's computer, and decided to upload it myself. Anyway, I hate this chapter but that doesn't matter, so will Ratigan and he'll want to kill Meg.
(RAEB walks in)
RAEB: JWJ, what are you doing?
JWJ: Uh, nothing?
RAEB: Doesn't look like nothing. Oh, by the way, here's your valentine. (hands him a card.)
JWJ: (sarcastically) Oh gee, thanks. Where's Meg?
RAEB: Sleeping.
I sat up in a cold sweat.
What happened?
I looked around me.
Just a nightmare.
But it had felt so real. Horrible dream. I dreamt that Ratigan had murdered my parents. Anne, Mrs. Judson, Dr. Dawson, even a little girl and her father, whom I had never seen before fell victim to his black-hearted ways. Then I watched him plunge the sword into Josh over and over again. The thought of it brought me to tears.
Ratigan had never been caught. I had wondered why Basil had been there during our honeymoon, but Dr. Dawson later explained to me that he had been expecting Ratigan to come. He waited to nab the villain. It never worked.
Josh and I had been really poor, but we had been hopeful about the future. The honeymoon was supposed to be that one night at a fancy hotel, since we could not afford more.
We had put payments down on a flat and some other necessities, but my acting paycheck wasn't enough to cover it now. The funeral costs had also shrunk my purse a good deal. The flat was now up for sale and there was to be an auction tomorrow to pay off the debts.
I was staying at Baker Street on Mrs. Judson's invitation.
I had not even been allowed to take Josh's violin from our flat. That was the only thing I truly wanted.
I sobbed into my pillow.
The sound of a thud from the floor above woke Basil from his slumber. The detective groaned and looked at the clock by the bed. Quarter past one in the morning!
Meg had woken him up the past few nights with her sobbing, but usually Mrs. Judson or Dawson took care of it. Basil was about to let the landlady take care of it again when he remembered. She had gone to take care of a sick friend two hours ago. Dawson was with her, naturally, to lend his expertise on the matter. Basil seriously considered letting Meg take care of herself, but a sting of pity soon turned into guilt.
"Oh drat!" he mumbled. Basil reluctantly got up and, putting on his slippers and robe, he set off for Meg's room on the second floor.
When he got up there, he saw Meg sitting on the floor, sheets in a tangle around her, shaking as she sobbed quietly to herself.
Basil stood there, feeling awkwardly out of place. What was he doing here, trying to comfort the emotions of a teenage girl? He was a world-renowned detective after all. He could not play mousewife for Mrs. Judson. Basil was about to turn away when he felt another twinge of guilt.
Perhaps it was his fault Meg was now suffering. Basil was afraid to admit it to himself. He almost wanted to tell the voice inside his head that it couldn't be his fault, that he was never wrong about anything. But then he saw it. It was his fault that Josh had not lived. He should have found Ratigan long before he attacked the unsuspecting couple; he should have killed Ratigan before they started to duel.
"Mrs. H- er, Miss Sarentis?" he asked cautiously. No response. "Meg?" Nothing.
Basil was quickly losing patience. He knelt on the ground and touched her arm to make her aware of his presence. "Meg?"
"Mrs. Judson, I-" she turned around, only to find Basil there. "Oh!" Meg quickly wiped her eyes and reached for her robe at the same time. "I'm sorry I woke you, Mr. Basil. I... I really didn't mean to..."
"It's all right," Basil found himself saying.
"Where's Mrs. Judson?" she asked a little suspiciously.
"With an ill friend. So is Dawson."
"Oh." Meg seemed at a loss for words. She nervously twisted the edge of a blanket. "I... I'm sorry... for waking you."
"It's fine, Meg." Basil felt really uncomfortable. He and Meg had never been friends, and most certainly never had a heart-to-heart before. The great mouse detective had no idea what to say next. So he did the only thing that he could think of at that moment. "Would you like to sit downstairs awhile in front of the fire?"
"Yes."
Basil built up a fire as Meg sat in an armchair watching him. He sat back and they watched it for a while in an awkward silence.
"Will you play your violin, Basil?" Meg asked suddenly.
"Why..." Basil was taken aback by this request. He thought it would upset her to hear a violin again. He then saw the pleading look in her eyes. "Of course."
He pulled out the instrument and began to play a bright, cheery melody. As the minutes passed however, the tunes turned into beautiful, mourning concertos. Basil watched Meg as she fiddled with her wedding ring, her eyes roaming about the study. Her eyes rested on the portrait of Ratigan. She stared at it for a very long time, and Basil almost swore she had stopped breathing.
He turned to look at the portrait himself, pondering the whereabouts of his foe. He became so absorbed in thought that he played an obviously wrong note which squeaked loudly throughout the flat. Basil cringed and turned to Meg. She was fast asleep.
He was tired, and the fire was dead anyway. He covered her with a blanket and went to his bedroom adjoining the study, making sure to leave the door open in case she needed him again.
Sarah: Well, I'm happy now, but I think I can see where this is going.
JWJ: Meg needs to learn that everyone can see where these stories are going.
Emma: It's very exciting though.
(Meg walks in yawning, as if she just woke up.)
Meg: (Stops) What are you all doing here?
Lizz: Author's notes.
Meg: I cancelled all of that because of Ratigan. Remember?
Leigh: But JWJ told us...
(Realization strikes everyone. Meg runs to the computer, only to discover that the first chapter of "Goodbye to You" has been posted on )
Meg: You moron! That demented freak of nature is going is murder me!
(There is a loud banging at the door.)
Meg: Uh... bye! (Runs out of room.)
(Ratigan barges in from different direction.)
Ratigan: Where is she? WHERE IS SHE?
(Everyone points in a different direction.)
