Disclaimer—apart from Holmes, Watson and Mrs. Hudson, I've also borrowed Lestrade for this chapter, yes, I don't own him either!
A/N REVIEW!! Pleaseeee! I haven't got many reviews for this yet, and I would really like some!
The next morning I ventured to ask Holmes if he would care to come with Sophia and I to visit some of Londons many sights. Holmes though, was expecting a call from Lestrade later, over some simple case, that Holmes said was "Totally out of his depth, as usual."
At half-past nine, I set off to pick up my sister from her hotel. It was another hot day, and everyone around seemed to be in a good mood. This is why, I remembered, I liked London so much. There was such a strong feeling of human fellowship; everybody smiled at eachother as they went about their business. Of course, I had also seen the dregs of this community, the murderers and thieves that Holmes had to deal with. Some people have expressed amazement that I have not become disgusted and repulsed by human nature over the years, but it has not. In actual fact, I believe it has strengthened my appreciation for the basic kindness that all of us possess. Anyhow, I am digressing.
Again, my sister looked lovely. It is amazing how two siblings can look so different. I am naturally quite stocky and square, with sandy brown hair and brown eyes, basically I take after my father. Though I do not remember that much of my mother, as I was quite young when she died, Sophia always reminded me of her. She was as tall as me, with a slim figure that made her look as graceful as a cat. Her long black hair was always braided as a girl, but now she wore it down, as if it was a silky black frame for her head. Today she was wearing a hat and matching plum dress.
"Good morning John dear, is it just us today?" she enquired after giving me a small hug.
"Yes, I regret to say that Holmes had an engagement with a detective from Scotland Yard."
Sophia expressed interest in Holmes' work, and as we walked around London, I told her of some of the cases we had dealt with in the past. Sometimes she went pale as I recounted the terrible danger we had been placed in, but when I asked her if she wished me to stop, she merely shook her head and asked me to continue.
That day, we saw Buckingham palace, St James' park, Oxford street and a number of other places of interest. By the early afternoon, my sister told me that she was tired, so I hailed a cab and we went back to Baker Street. As we walked up the seventeen steps, the sound of Holmes' violin reached my ears. For once, he was actually playing a tune, instead of his usual scraping chords. It was a light and tuneful folk piece, most probably composed by Holmes.
Holmes was facing away from us when we entered, and he didn't seem to notice. I was not sure if this was just obtuseness on his part, or if he had simply not heard out entrance.
"Good day Holmes." I said rather loudly
Holmes jumped, which was uncharacteristic of him.
"I do beg your pardon." He apologized.
"Not at all Mr. Holmes, I am sorry for having interrupted such a beautiful piece of music!" said my sister. " Please, would you play me something else?"
"Of course, and please," said Homes, "call me Sherlock."
***
That evening (for we had spent the rest of the day in our lodgings) we all dined at Simpsons. The conversation was light, and Holmes managed to keep up a variety of subjects. As I have mentioned before, I he was in the right mood, Holmes could converse for hours, treating each subject as if it was his field of expertise. Tonight he was positively scintillating.
My sister seemed particularly interested in how he learnt to play the violin, and begged to hear the story.
"Well," said Holmes, thinking for a second. "When I was a young boy, I think I was eight years of age, my father contracted diphtheria. He knew that his death was near, and my brother and I were granted an audience with him. He passed on some of his more treasured belongings to us, giving me a violin that his grandfather had hand-crafted."
Both Sophia and I were paying full attention to Holmes' story.
"After his inevitable death a few days later, I pleaded with my mother to let me find a tutor, as I had been home-schooled by my father up until that time. We found one fellow, he was a great inspiration to me, and also happened to be something of a virtuoso on the violin. He taught me up until I was 12, when we moved, and I began to attend Eton."
Conversation drifted on to other subjects, but for a while afterwards, I sat pondering on Holmes' sudden frankness and willingness to tell the personal details that he normally kept so secret, even to me, his best friend. I knew it must be something to do with Sophia, she had a calming effect on his strained nature.
The meal was coming to an end, and as none of us cared for dessert, we decided to leave. As we walked out of the door, I put my hands into the pockets of my coat, and felt a few hard slips of card. I berated myself for being too absent-minded. Yesterday, upon seeing posters outside the theater at Covent Garden for a Wagner night, I had hurried in to purchase tickets for my sister and myself. She had always loved Wagner
"Holmes, you like Wagner don't you?"
He eyed me suspiciously, "Yes. Yes Watson I do, but wh…"
"Ah. I'm glad of that Holmes," I said, interrupting him, "You see, I had completely forgotten about the tickets I purchased for Wagner night at the music hall. I'm afraid that I am feeling rather tired. I would appreciate it if you would escort Sophia there, for I know she loves Wagner and would not like to miss it."
Holmes looked slightly mutinous, and I feared that he was about to start complaining, but then he seemed to remember my sister's presence and checked himself.
"I would like it very much if you would come with me." Commented Sophia quietly.
Was it my imagination, or did a faint red tinge appear on Holmes' cheeks? Whether real or not, they disappeared quickly.
"Yes, I will come, I have heard that the orchestra there are quite impressive, and would like to see this for myself." He turned to me, and said quietly, 'I will take your sister back to her hotel. Good evening Watson."
I walked a little way, and then turned around just in time to see them both stepping into a hansom cab that Holmes had hailed. They were both talking happily, and as I turned back to resume my journey home, I heard Holmes laugh at something Sophia said. I couldn't help it, as I walked along I smiled happily to myself, earning a few curious looks from strangers passing by.