Her eyelids felt strangely like shortbread dough. Warm – just like after it was kneaded - faintly greasy and softly solid. She smeared her fingertips outwards, stretching the skin, then , reaching her temples, she let her knuckles bend and dug her fingernails in hard.

'Ida?' Prudence's voice intruded onto her gloomy reverie. She scraped her fingers back through her hair, wincing as she caught at a tangle,

'What?'

'I think there's someone at the door…'

Ida looked across the kitchen table to where her friend sat, staring with anxious eyes into the night outside the window. The single candle on the table, which illuminated their night time activities (Prudence was hemming some napkins and Ida was supposed to be rolling strips of newspaper into small pellets for firelighting) gave her face a haggard quality un befitting to her age.

'I didn't hear anything,' said Ida

'Well, you wouldn't,' said Prudence, 'since you're living in a world of your own…' Her reproachful tone was like salt on an open wound. Ida opened her mouth to snap something back, but then she heard a distinct knocking sound.

'Oh…'

Prudence raised her eyebrows as if to say 'I told you so.'

'I'll get it,' said Ida, rising to her feet.

'But who could it be at this hour?' said Prudence, concern creeping into her voice, 'I think I'd better come with you…'

'If I need help, I'll scream.'

………

The doorstep was empty. Confused, Ida craned her neck to look out into the moonlit street.

'Is anyone there?' she called

'Miss Greene?' came a soft voice out of the darkness

'Who's there?' said Ida, beginning to feel worried. When there was no immediate reply she called

'Don't you try anything, or I'll…'

'No! Please!' came a sudden cry, and Clarence Fortescue stumbled forward into the dim light spilling from the doorway

'Please,' he said, in an urgent voice, 'I need to talk to you…'

Ida observed his wild eyed, distracted expression dubiously. He opened and closed his mouth twice, then words suddenly poured out

'Miss Greene, forgive me, I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of my brother's name on those papers you were carrying earlier…'

'…the papers!' exclaimed Ida, but Clarence's speech continued without even pause for breath:

'It was indeed a most inappropriate, unseemly, unforgiveable thing to do, but I needed to assuage my curiosity, so I must admit to having secreted several of the papers on my person before returning the notebook to you. I have read the papers, Miss Greene, and although I must admit to be at a loss as to understanding much of what they contained, some things were clear. The name of Mr Holmes, and the implications of such a scandal that…'

His voice was rising higher and higher as he became more agitated. Ida interrupted

'You've heard of Mr Holmes?'

'Mr Holmes? Of course! Who hasn't heard of the great consulting detective of Baker Street?'

Ida couldn't help but feel stupid, even though there was really no reason why she should have heard of Mr Holmes before he turned up at the guest house. So. A famous detective, was he? That was still no excuse for being so rude...

'Ida?' said Prudence, suddenly. Shocked, Ida turned to see her friend standing in the hallway behind her

'Ida, I was getting worried,' continued Prudence, taking a step forward. She looked out of the door, to see Clarence standing awkwardly on the step, then stared at Ida, her eyes flashing with accusation. Ida tried desperately not to look guilty. Before she could open her mouth to explain, Prudence announced

'I see I was unnecessarily concerned,' and turned on her heel to march off.

Clarence looked nervously from Prudence's retreating form to Ida's face, his mouth gaping open and shut

'Sorry!' he blurted out at last, 'I didn't mean, of course, for… Shall I go and tell her…What can I…?'

Ida sighed,

'It's not important. But perhaps we ought not to have this conversation on the doorstep…'

'…Quite right! But…um…where…?'

'Let's go for a walk.'

………

The night was mild, and the ripples on Derwentwater glistened in the moonlight. Leaning against one of the posts of the jetty, Ida turned to look at Clarence who was perching uncomfortably on the edge of the wooden structure, as though to bring as little of his clothes into contact with it as possible. During the walk to the lake, the conflict between Holmes's explicit instructions not to get involved and her own awoken curiosity had raged long and hard. But the deciding factor was the thought of Grimshaw, and the memory of how Horace Fortescue had grabbed her… Holmes intended to let Grimshaw remain a prisoner of that man…

'Mr Fortescue,' she began, 'do you still have the papers?'

'I burned them.'

'Oh.'

Damn and blast it, thought Ida,

'Well, do you think you could tell me what was in them…?'

'Miss Greene, I came to you because I thought you knew what was going on!'

'I do! I do!' Ida improvised desperately, 'I just wanted to know how much you knew I knew…as it were….'

Clarence raised his eyebrows, and Ida looked away. Staring across the glimmering water she said

'Actually…I don't. I don't know what's going on. But perhaps...'

She turned back to look at him, 'perhaps we could help each other find out?'

'Well, I doubt if I can be of any help…'

'…do you know,' a sudden thought occurred to Ida, 'do you know what a fossil is?'

It may have been a trick of the moonlight, but it seemed to Ida that Clarence looked even more uncomfortable, briefly, if that were possible.

'Yes,' he said, slowly, 'a fossil is a likeness, cast in stone, if you will, of a creature that lived many millions of years ago…But, why…'

'Millions of years ago?'

'Yes, the world was once populated by many strange animals, the likes of which it is hard to imagine today…'

'Do you mean…like…' Ida tried desperately to recall the charity school she had once very briefly attended, 'before the flood?'

Clarence smiled briefly,

'You shouldn't believe everything you hear in Sunday school, Miss Greene.'

Ida didn't much care for being patronised, but she dared not risk upsetting her one and only source of information.

'And are these…fossils…valuable?'

'Some are. To academics, and collectors. Some are very valuable indeed.'

'And do you know of any such people, to whom these fossils are of interest, round here?'

'Well,' said Clarence slowly, 'my own father, for one.'

'Your father!' exclaimed Ida, delighted to have found some meaningful link at last, 'your father! And does your brother have anything to do with his collecting…'

'Miss Greene,' interrupted Clarence, 'I fail to see what fossils have to do with anything, I need to know what my brother is involved in, please…'

Ida stared at him, wondering how much he could be trusted. And what could he have been reading that failed to mention the wretched fossils, which had been a pretty recurring theme in the passages she had perused?

'So what did the papers you read talk about?' she asked

Clarence didn't meet her eye, and adjusted his cuff as he replied

'I began to read the page that had caught my eye originally. It described a meeting in the university library, where Mr Holmes was talking to a Professor Hayes. The Professor was most agitated, for a specimen that he had thought stolen had re appeared in his collection… Oh!' A sudden thought seemed to strike him, 'Would these specimens be fossils by any chance?'

'Yes, said Ida, 'something called an ammonite…'

'Ah! I see. Well, the student who had brought this to his attention was…my own brother. And upon hearing this, Mr Holmes asked to interview my brother…'

Clarence's voice tailed off

'Go on,' said Ida, excitedly, 'there must have been more pages than that!'

'Yes…' said Clarence guiltily, 'yes, there were…'

'…and?'

'…I was reading this in my room, and I heard a commotion outside the door. In my panic I cast the lot onto the grate…'

'You burnt all the pages...'

'Yes. I realise this must be a great inconvenience for you, and I am sorry…'

'You burnt all the pages!'

'Miss Greene, you must understand…I was very nervous, and when I heard such a crash…'

'A crash?'

'Yes, a crash outside my room… I thought someone would burst in on me…'

'And did they?'

'No…I opened my door to discover the source of the noise…'

'…and?'

'One of the footmen…Eddie…had dropped a pile of shoes he was carrying…'

'Shoes.'

'Yes, look, I know…'

'So…' Ida blew a long breath out through her mouth, 'so that's that.'

They sat for a moment in silence, broken at last by Clarence

'Miss Greene, I've told you all that I know! Please, tell me something…'

Ida sucked her teeth, wondering once again whether she would be making a huge mistake by confiding in this young man. But if she wanted to help Grimshaw then she needed to get back into the Fortescue house… But what would Clarence's reaction be to what she was about to accuse his brother of?

'Miss Greene, I implore you!'

'Very well.' Ida began, 'but what I am about to tell you is in the strictest confidence. You are not to go to the police, and…' she gulped, 'you are not to approach Mr Holmes and tell him what I told you…'

'Hah, well, I'm not likely to be hopping on the next train to London…'

'…What?' Ida exclaimed, then suddenly remembered that there was no reason for Clarence to know that Holmes was in Keswick… 'Oh, right, to see Mr Holmes, yes…that would be a little ridiculous. Hahaha…'

'Hahaha.'

'So,' she said, 'Please, hear me out…I know it sounds mad, but I have reason to believe that your brother is keeping a certain young man prisoner in your house.'

'What!'

'Mr Fortescue, I know what it sounds like, but I saw with my own eyes that Horace is keeping a man… one Mr Grimshaw… prisoner…'

To Ida's surprise, Clarence let out a peal of laughter,

'I don't think it's very funny!' she said indignantly,

'My apologies Miss Greene,' he said, 'but it is rather amusing… You see, Grimshaw, Mortimer Grimshaw, or Morty as we call him, is a friend of my brother's from university…'

'I don't care what he's told you,' Ida said hotly, 'but I know that Grimshaw is being held against his will!'

'Grimshaw has been holidaying at our house for the last two years! There's no coercion going on I assure you!'

'I don't believe you,' said Ida, remembering the scene in the garden,

'Miss Greene, what can I possibly do to convince you?'

'Well…' said Ida, thoughtfully, 'you could let me see him…'

'Excuse me?'

'You could let me into your house, and find some way of spying on him and your brother…Then we'll see how willing a guest he is…'

'I hardly think that would be appropriate Miss Greene.'

'No,' said Ida, glumly, 'no, I suppose not.'

They stared at the water for some minutes more, until Clarence eventually said,

'So was that all that you could accuse my brother of?'

Ida opened her mouth, then remembered that Holmes was supposedly in London, so mentioning the assault was probably unwise.

'Yes,' she said, 'yes, that was all.'

Clarence seemed to relax a little

'I have kept you up far too late, Miss Greene,' he said, 'pray, let me escort you back home.'

Ida got to her feet,

'Thank you, Mr Fortescue,' she said, flatly.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys, and sorry for taking so long with this chapter...