Another rather short update but quite a significant one, I think!
Chapter Two
'Daddy!' William exclaimed, running to his father who went down on one knee to greet his son. He had arrived by black cab to collect him and all his belongings from school.
'Will,' Sherlock breathed, enveloping his son in his arms and inhaling deeply, drawing the boy's scent deep into his lungs and feeling the effects like a hit from a drug, as his brain flooded with happy hormones – serotonin, oxytocin and dopamine.
Oblivious to the hubbub around them, father and son held each other for several seconds, as other parents arrived to collect their children, exchanged pleasantries with the house staff or made mundane enquiries about lost belongings, term dates or minor misdemeanours.
When eased apart, Sherlock smiled.
'Ready?' he asked.
'Ready,' William nodded, smiling back.
Hauling the kit bag onto his shoulder, Sherlock hefted the suitcase, leaving William to carry his violin case. Hand in hand, they made heir way to the exit and the cab, still waiting outside. They climbed in and buckled up as the taxi pulled out into the stream of traffic.
When they arrived at Firs Lodge, William jumped out, leaving Daddy to deal with the cab driver. He entered the garden through the front gate and, rather wistfully, eyed the path that led down the side of the house to their generously-sized back garden, with a little orchard, down at the bottom where his bee hive resided. Would it be considered selfish to head off in that direction and say hello to his bees before greeting the rest of the family?
While he was still debating that point with himself, the matter was taken out of his hands as the front door opened and out came Freddie. The very nearly five-year-old charged down the front path and barrelled into William, knocking all the breath out of him in an audible 'Oof!' and sending him staggering backwards, saved, luckily, by Daddy coming up behind and acting as a buffer, averting disaster.
'Oh, William! You're home! You're home!' Freddie squealed, his arms wrapped tightly around William's waist. 'It's so good to see you!'
'You saw me yesterday, Freddie,' William grimaced, patting his little brother gingerly on the top of his head, whilst recovering the breath that Freddie had knocked out of him.
'Yes, but that was at school, Will. This is home. It's so good to have you home!' That was Freddielogic.
While this reunion was in progress, Violet emerged through the front door, looking as cute as a button in a raspberry coloured pinafore dress over a grey jumper and tights, and began jumping up and down on the step, grinning from ear to ear, her golden curls bobbing around her head like an agitated halo.
'Willum home!' she squeaked. 'And Daddy!'
'Yes,' confirmed Marie, appearing in the doorway behind the little girl, 'William and Daddy are…oh!'
Not wishing to be left out, Redbeard burst out of the house, barging straight past Marie, eliciting that gasp of surprise and avoiding flattening Violet by the merest whisker. Barely in control of his gangly legs, the over-sized puppy galloped down the path, barking excitedly, and began to race in raucous circles around Sherlock and the two boys, making everyone fall about laughing.
'Come on, let's get you all inside before we have the neighbours complaining about the noise,' Sherlock insisted, shooing them all into the hall. While William formally greeted Violet and Marie, Sherlock opened the cupboard under the stairs and lobbed the kit bag inside then closed the door, with a satisfying click.
That won't be needed for the next three weeks, he thought.
In actual fact, the contents of the kit bag would not be needed for considerably longer because Games in the Summer Term would be cricket and tennis. Rugby and hockey would not resume until September.
He carried the suitcase through the kitchen to the Utility Room and parked it on the floor next to the washing machine. Someone would deal with that later.
'Daddy, Daddy, look what Violet did!' Freddie called from the dining room.
'Coming,' he called and went to investigate.
'How are things at school?' Marie asked, now she had William all to herself at the kitchen table.
'Oh, you know,' he shrugged. 'It's alright.'
'I read your report,' Marie went on. 'You got excellent marks in your assessments and the comments were very positive from all your teachers. Well done!'
'Oh, yes, not too bad.' William ducked his head, modestly. He wasn't good at taking compliments.
'And what about the choir, are you enjoying that?'
'Oh, yes,' he replied, perking up, finding something he really enjoyed talking about. 'Although we're not proper choristers yet. But we practice every day with the older boys and we learn all the new pieces at the same time as they do. And I'm really enjoying learning the piano. I don't know if I prefer it to the violin, though. I think I'll always love the violin the most.'
Marie smiled and nodded, like a proud 'parent', marvelling at how grown up little William was getting.
'Where's Mummy?' he asked, rather tentatively, slightly concerned at what the answer might be.
'She's upstairs, having a little lie down,' Marie replied.
William frowned.
'She gets very tired,' Marie added, apologetically. 'You should go up and let her know you're home. I'm sure she'd love to see you.'
'I don't want to disturb her,' William mumbled.
Marie glanced at the kitchen clock.
'I don't think you'll be disturbing her. In fact, you can take up her mid-morning snack, if you wouldn't mind. Save my legs.'
'OK,' William replied, slightly reassured.
Marie went to the fridge and took out a carton of semi-skimmed milk. She poured a generous glassful, then took a small plate from the cupboard and placed two digestive biscuits on it .
'Here you go,' she said, handing the glass and the plate to William.
He took them and made his way, very carefully, up the stairs to the first floor, being sure not to spill anything on the way. At the top of the stairs, he turned right and crossed the landing, pausing outside the door to Mummy and Daddy's bedroom. Resting the plate on top of the glass, he freed up a hand to open the bedroom door just wide enough to squeeze through then closed it quietly behind him.
He stood still for a few moments in the darkened room, while his eyes adjusted to the gloom. He could see a humped shape on the bed, which he presumed was Mummy. She seemed to be sound asleep so he hesitated, wondering whether to cross to the bed or not, but then the shape moved and a familiar - if rather feeble - voice said,
'William? Is that you?'
'Yes, Mummy,' he replied, feeling a tiny seed of joy take root in his chest and begin to grow. He crossed the room and placed the glass and the plate on the bedside table, then leaned over the bed as Molly opened her arms and he fell into them.
'Oh, my darling boy,' Molly sighed. 'It's so good to have you home.'
Letting William board at the school had been a big decision but Molly had not quite appreciated what a huge wrench it would be, dropping him off and saying goodbye at the beginning of term and not seeing him everyday. And even though she worked - when she worked - a mere ten minutes down the road from the school, it didn't make the separation any easier. In fact, in some ways, it made it worse. But it felt so good to have him close again.
After a very heartfelt hug, Molly relaxed her hold on the boy and waved a hand towards the window. 'Can you open the curtains, please, sweetheart? I want to look at you!'
William rounded the bed and felt behind the curtain for the draw string and, when he found it, pulled on it gently so the curtains slowly parted and the lemony Spring sunshine poured into the room. He turned to face his mother, who held up a hand to shield her eyes and squinted in the sudden bright light. She looked very pale and rather thinner than he remembered from the last time he saw her, just two weeks ago.
'How are you, Mummy?' William asked, anxiously, crossing back to the bed for a closer look.
'Oh, I'm quite well,' Molly replied, with a wan smile. 'Well, mostly.' Her lips pursed and her brow furrowed as she searched her lexicon for the most reassuring words. 'A bit tired, perhaps but, you know…not for too much longer.'
'Are you still being sick?' William's expression remained pinched.
'Now and then,' she confessed, reaching out to pat the bed, inviting him to climb up and join her. He scrambled on board and curled up beside her, and she draped an arm across him.
'But at the end of it all, we'll have a new addition to the family,' she said, as brightly as she could muster, giving William's bottom a reassuring pat.
Another addition to the family...thought William.
William knew all too well, that Mummy always got sick when she was pregnant and she was obviously OK with that otherwise, surely, she would have stopped having children after the first one, i.e. himself. But that did nothing to ease his concern for her - or for himself...
He loved his brother and sister very much and he was sure he would love this new one - whatever it turned out to be - eventually. But it had crossed his mind that, the more children that were added to the family, the more Mummy and Daddy would need to share their love. At what point, he wondered, would that love be spread so thin that there would be little left for him?
He need not have worried.
Molly tucked William's head under her chin and closed her eyes, her features softening into a contented smile. She loved all her children, even the one currently occupying her womb and causing her to suffer perhaps the worse pregnancy sickness she had ever had – and that was saying something! But William would always hold a special place in her heart - perhaps because he was her first, perhaps because of the circumstances that had led to him coming into the world or perhaps because, of all her children, he was the most like Sherlock.
But, whatever the reason, it was immaterial. The important thing was that he was home for the next three weeks and, come what may, she was going to enjoy every moment she could have with him.
'Ugh, sorry, darling,' she groaned, suddenly rolling away from him and off the bed, stumbling across the floor. 'Mummy's gonna hurl...'
She disappeared into the bathroom and, moments later, William heard the unmistakable sound of retching. He glanced across at the glass of milk and plate of biscuits, wondering if he should take them to her. But, on reflection, he decided probably not. He would just wait until she returned and then ask if there was anything he could do to help.
ooOoo
A nice surprise? Or not? I'll let you decide. ;)
Btw, this story will be told mostly from William's POV with occasional insights into how other people are thinking or feeling.