A/N - OK, this is a little bit complicated.

Firstly, welcome back to anyone who read 'The Case of the Academic Abduction', this story follows right on from that, and features Ida and Clarence as well as, of course, Holmes and Watson. This is hopefully going to be in a similar style to Academic Abduction: fairly light-hearted. But in the background of this one is some darker events that took place during Holmes' student days, and my plan is to explore that in another story –Distractions. Now, I thought it might be fun to run the stories simultaneously, so that revelations in both can play off each other in the later chapters when it becomes clearer how they relate. But I'm keeping both stories as (hopefully) stand alone, separate pieces of fiction, so that one can be completely Holmes-centric and not get taken over by my OCs (though I'm still taking a fair few liberties, but hey, aren't we all?). Anyway, if that made sense, basically, you can read this one, you can read Distractions (you can use the back button if I've put you off with all this unnecessary complication), OR you can read them both at once (that's how I'll be posting the chapters), which should eventually pay off if this plan doesn't backfire on me spectacularly.

But now, on with the story!

Ida bent her head at an angle of 45 degrees and considered whether the new hat had been a mistake. Hats in general did not suit her, but this black straw one with a thin purple trim had looked quite stylish on the dummy in the milliner's shop. And ever since the…incident…on the Thames her old hat had been embarrassingly shapeless.

'Oh, nice hat…'

Ida didn't turn round.

'I heard you come up the stairs, Clarence,' she said, 'but that doesn't change the fact that you should knock…I could have clients in here you know…'

Ida knew without looking that he was turning his head from side to side in an elaborate show of looking for the non existent clients.

'And the fact that I don't have any clients isn't the point…'

'I could have asked downstairs if anyone had already come up…' said Clarence in an uncharacteristic display of protracted reasoning

'But you didn't,' said Ida, turning round at last.

'Ida…are you still angry about the whole…boat…incident?'

'No…' said Ida, taking off the hat and replacing it in its box on the floor, 'I'm in a bad mood because I haven't had any clients for a week now.'

'Oh, hang clients! It's a beautiful day, let's go to St James's Park…'

'Clarence!'

'Yes, yes…alright,' he said, in pained tones, 'I'm a spoilt lazy aristocrat who has no idea what it is to work for a living…'

Ida grinned, and turned towards the fireplace to hide it.

'You said it, Clarence…' she replied, drily.

He snorted, and went to sit in her armchair, saying

'Have you seen today's Times?'

'No, not yet.'

'They've solved the Norwood case! Turns out it wasn't the clerk after all. The old man faked his own death, would you believe…'

'Really? That's quite something…'

'…yes, says here that the policeman…' the paper rustled as Clarence sought the information, 'Inspector Lestrade, yes, says here that he thought MacFarlane was innocent all along, despite the apparent evidence against him… What a clever chap, eh?'

'Mmm,' said Ida, not really listening,

'Still, I'm surprised that your Mr Holmes wasn't in on this one…'

'He's not my Mr Holmes…'

'No, I know….but I thought you said he was a famous detective?'

'He is…' said Ida, going to sit on the edge of her bed.

Clarence turned the pages of the paper, then an idea struck him

'Hey, do you think he'd be able to find you some clients?'

Ida stared at Clarence in disbelief, seeking some sign in his face that this was an attempt at a joke. But his earnest expression was completely guileless.

'No, Clarence,' she managed, 'In all honesty, I don't think he'd much approve of my doing this at all…'

'But you're very good!' said Clarence, 'I mean, you found that lady's dog for her, didn't you? And you found Mrs Locke's diamond necklace…'

'…in her handbag…'

'…well, yes…but you saved that poor maid's job – I mean, if you hadn't found the necklace then she'd probably have been arrested as a thief…'

'Clarence …I've helped out a few absent minded ladies…that's hardly detective work'

'But they paid you, didn't they? And you solved the mystery of the great paintbrush robbery of old London town…'

'…Clarence, he only borrowed your paintbrush...'

'…It was my paintbrush! An artist's relationship with his paintbrush is…'

'…please, stop. And give me a bit of the paper to read, will you?'

He took half the pages, folded them, and tossed them over to Ida. They came apart in mid air and fluttered to the floor. Ida reached out and caught one. Bringing it up to eye level she saw that it was the personal ads.

Lost: one silver topped walking ebony walking cane, left on the number 32 omnibus. Sentimental value, £10 reward for its return.

Found: brass carriage clock, under bench at Kings Cross Station, ask at stationmaster's office. Clock will be relinquished to owner who can provide detail of the inscription on the back.

Help wanted: at twelve Victoria Crescent, experienced housemaid for cleaning and housework is needed today! Must have good letter from your previous residence detailing exemplary conduct. Servants must conduct themselves appropriately and fittingly. Insolence etc. is not tolerated. Otherwise, situation offers board, nutrition and time (Sundays) off. This most desirous of situations really does require experience of house work.

'Listen to this, Clarence,' Ida read the advertisement aloud.

'You thinking of applying?' he said, wrinkling his nose in distaste, 'I thought you…'

'…no! Don't you think there's something odd about it?'

'Well, yes, it sounds like it was written by someone with only a passing acquaintance with the English language…'

'…and there are so many redundant words,' mused Ida, 'this could have been expressed in a sentence…'

Clarence made no reply, he was busying himself with the crossword.

Ida stared at the queer paragraph, and read it slowly again, tracing each word with her finger. She read it a third time…and…realisation dawned, spreading through her like a warm glow

'I see...!' she exclaimed softly. 'Clarence?'

'Hmmm?'

'I need you to write me a reference. An exemplary reference, saying what a well conducted, respectful and absolutely not insolent housemaid I am…'