Well, this one turned out a bit longer!

Chapter Five

Sunday was a relatively relaxed day in the Hooper-Holmes household. Marie, who had given up a lot of her free time to help out while Molly was laid low by hyperemesis gravidarum, had a well-deserved day off which happily coincided with Gavin, her husband of eight months, being at home, too. So, they spent the day out, together.

Molly ventured downstairs for the first time in nearly a fortnight and, although she spent quite a lot of the time lying on the sofa, she was able to enjoy a little slice of family life.

Violet, to William's relief, was delighted to have Mummy around again and spent a good part of the day on or near the sofa, 'reading' to her. She couldn't actually read but she knew all her favourite story books off by heart and could quote them verbatim, even turning the pages at exactly the right time. When she ran out of stories, Violet organised an imaginary tea party with Mummy and Wib, serving them invisible tea, biscuits and cake, and chattering away in that endearing patois of unique portmanteau words so typical of children her age.

Sherlock was on kitchen duty, ably assisted by his two sous chefs, William and Freddie, cooking up a storm of a Sunday lunch, being careful to avoid certain cooking smells that were absolutely guaranteed to make Molly barf.

In the afternoon, Sherlock and the boys took Redbeard out, along the canal to the nearby park, while Violet and Molly shared a nap. There were a lot of people out and about, enjoying the Spring sunshine after a long, wet and distinctly chilly Winter. The park, it appeared, was hosting a little local soccer tournament and Redbeard had to be restrained from joining in on a number of occasions, so irresistible was the draw of all those people running around, chasing those big, bouncing balls. When they came to the boating lake it was also very crowded with pedalos, all trying to avoid one another with varying degrees of success. Here, Redbeard outdid himself by taking a running leap off the jetty into the water and swimming around after a flock of water fowl. permanent residents of the park lake, which squawked and hissed but easily managed to evade him. He meant them no harm. He just wanted to play but they didn't know that.

He was eventually tempted out of the water by Freddie, waving a hot sausage roll – purchased at the little kiosk beside the lake – and everyone within a three-metre radius scattered when he vigorously shook his long, silky, russet coat, sending a fine spray of water droplets in every direction.

Fortunately, by the time they got back home, Redbeard's fur had dried out and, exhausted from his adventures, he climbed straight into his basket, in the kitchen, and slept for several hours.

Meanwhile, Sherlock and his kitchen crew prepared a proper Sunday afternoon cream tea of sandwiches, scones and, of course, tea (for Sherlock) and hot chocolate for everyone else, except Molly, who could only manage milk and biscuits but at least was able to sit at the kitchen table with the family.

After that, Molly and the children enjoyed a bit of telly, while Sherlock made disparaging comments about the content, keeping the children amused until bedtime.

William, snuggling under his duvet with a torch - a habit he had developed since having to share a room at St Paul's - reading the book on bee keeping that Mr Hedges had given him. He reflected on the day and concluded that being home was, in fact, much better than being at school, after all.

ooOoo

Monday morning, Marie was back in the house, feeling refreshed after her day out with Gavin. They had taken the train down to Brighton and spent the day at the seaside, walked along the promenade and to the end of the pier, eaten fish and chips on the sea front, fending off the attentions of a particularly persistent herring gull, and taken a ride on the Eye 360, which Marie felt was quite interesting but not a patch on the London Eye. The train ride back had been rather uncomfortable since they were unable to find a seat in any of the packed carriages so they sat on the floor, by the toilet, and Gavin made up spy stories about the various characters who came to use the facilities, making Marie snort with laughter at the scenarios he invented and his politician impressions. She particularly appreciated his Putin.

Gavin, she told William as he helped her stack the dish washer after breakfast, was loving his job at the Foreign Office though his diplomatic skills were being put to the test, rescuing the Foreign Secretary from one faux pas after another.

'I'm sure your Uncle Mycroft had a hand in his appointment,' she declared, with a knowing look. William agreed he probably did. Uncle Mycroft had a hand in a lot of things.

Sherlock had taken a case, assured by Molly that she would be fine at home with Marie on hand, so he had left for Baker Street quite early. He wasn't sure when he would be home – though definitely by bedtime - and promised to be 'available' throughout the day.

Molly was confined to the sofa again but managed a piece of toast at breakfast, which was definitely progress, and Freddie was entertaining her and Violet with his latest dance repertoire.

With the breakfast things squared away, William was on a mission. He was determined to be fully prepared for Mr Hedges' visit, the next day so, the night before, he had read up on colony inspection in early Spring and now he needed to check his bee-keeping equipment was all in order.

His first stop was the Utility Room where he kept his bee clothing, in a shopping bag, hanging on a hook behind the back door. Taking down the bag, he reached inside and pulled out his bee suit.

The suit consisted of a set of white, cotton overalls that zipped up the front, from crotch to neck. The legs ended in elasticated cuffs, to fit snugly round the ankles, with zips up the side to make them easier to put on and off. The sleeves had elasticated cuffs, too, and a loop of elastic that hooked round each thumb, to keep them from riding up.

William's suit was fitted with a 'Sherriff' veil, named after the person who designed it. It consisted of a hood made of cloth at the back, a fine mesh at the front and two stiffening arches which provided upright support. The hood was attached to the suit by a double-ended zip that could be opened and closed from both ends. It also had a flap of cloth at the front that, once the zip was closed, covered the zip toggles and stuck to two strips of Velcro on the bib of the suit, rendering both suit and hood completely bee-proof.

When William went with Daddy to the bee equipment store to buy his suit, the lady there had impressed upon them the importance of detaching the hood whenever it was washed, preferably after every hive inspection. The hood must be hand-washed only, because putting it in a washing machine would damage the mesh, causing it to split and giving the bees a way to get inside. And the last thing any bee keeper wanted was an angry bee inside their hood or suit.

William's suit had four pockets. The most important was the long, narrow one down the side of his left leg. This was where he kept his hive tool, the most important part of a bee keeper's kit, along with the smoker, because it had many essential uses. The other pockets were for whatever you wanted to put in them. He kept his gloves in one and his notebook and pencil in another.

William put his neatly folded bee suit to one side and reached into the bag again, took out the hood and proceeded to check that the mesh was still intact, that no slits or tears has miraculously appeared over the Winter. He was pleased to note they had not. He placed the hood on top of the suit. He would attach it tomorrow, when he got suited up.

Next out of the bag were his wellies. These were a pair he kept just for bee keeping. They were shorter in the leg than his regular pair, just up to mid-calf, making it easier to squat, kneel or generally move around in them while still protecting his feet and ankles from any ground-level attacks. The wellies also gripped well in wet weather, preventing any slip-ups around the hive. William had scrubbed his boots last October, removing every bit of garden mud, so they were nice and clean, ready for the new season. Cleanliness was very important around bees, to protect them from the many infectious diseases they were prone to.

He tipped one boot upside down and shook it and out dropped his bee gloves. These were just a pair of washing up gloves that he had begged from Mummy. They were flexible enough not to impede his dexterity but thick enough to form a protective barrier to bee stings. That's not to say they were impenetrable. He had been stung on the hand a couple of times but, on both occasions, he had quickly pulled out the sting and given the site a puff of smoke from his smoker, to disguise the smell of the pheromone released when a bee stings. The pheromone acted as a signal to the other bees that the colony was under attack, inciting them to sting, too. And nobody wanted that, least of all William!

He unfolded the gloves and checked that they were clean. They were, of course, but he would rinse them anyway, in a solution of soda crystals, just to make sure any and all pathogens were removed that might infect the hive.

Inside the other boot were a pair of socks, the final component of his protective equipment. They would be pulled up over the ankle cuffs of the bee suit to prevent any of the more adventurous bees from gaining access via that route.

So that was his clothing inspection complete. He put everything back in the bag and the bag back on the hook. Now for his hive equipment...

William headed out to the shed.

Just inside the garden shed, right next to the watering can, was the second of the two most important parts of a bee keeper's equipment – the smoker.

Smokers had been used by bee keepers for thousands of years to calm the bees while carrying out their inspections, according to Mr Hedges. William's smoker was just the modern incarnation of an ancient device. It was made up of a metal fire box with a set of bellows attached and a conical lid with an open nozzle at the pointy end. The lid was attached to the fire box by a hinge so it could be opened to set the fire inside. Once the fire was set and lit, the lid would be closed and smoke puffed out through the nozzle by squeezing the bellows.

So why smoke, one might ask? What did the smoke do? William had asked that very question when he first became a bee keeper.

'Well, young fella,' replied Mr Hedges, 'like many animals, bees have an instinctive fear of fire. So, puffing smoke across the top of the frames causes them to rush down to the honey cells and begin to gorge themselves, in case they have to abandon their home and find a new one. This has the advantage – from the bee keeper's perspective, of course – that, when you lift your frames out of the hive to take a look, the bees are occupied and out of the way, so to speak. And with a crop full of honey, a bee would find it harder - and also be less inclined - to bend her abdomen round to sting you.'

Mr Hedges winked at William and chuckled.

'But there lies the dilemma', the old man went on to explain. 'Smoking a hive is a delicate balancing act. You want to keep your bees busy and therefore calm, not make them angry and therefore aggressive. So, it's important to use your smoker very sparingly because too much smoke will just panic them, make them think the hive is on fire and put them on the offensive.'

William opened the lid of his smoker and looked inside. It, too, was clean. He'd used oven cleaner – with Mummy's permission, of course, and under her supervision - at the end of last season to get all the soot and grime off the inside of the fire box and lid, and he had vowed at the time not to let it get into such a state again!

Cleaning would be thorough and often from now on, he thought.

He closed the smoker and put it back next to the watering can then picked up his tools caddy – which was actually a plastic cleaning caddy, like the one Marie used to keep all her cleaning materials in when she was doing the bathrooms. He placed it on the work top that he and Mummy used, when potting seedlings, and began to take out the contents, one by one, to check they were all there.

First and foremost was the hive tool or 'J' tool, so named because it was flat and chamfered at one end and had a hook at the other. This tool had many uses, such as prising open the crown board. This was a plywood board with a ventilation hole in the middle which went on top of the topmost box – be that a brood box or, more commonly, a super where the honey was stored - and under the roof of the hive. It helped to secure the hive, keeping intruders out and warmth in. The bees tended to seal the edges of the crown board to the sides of the box, using wax – or comb - so the bee keeper used the chamfered edge of the hive tool to prise them apart.

It also came in handy for removing unwanted brace comb from the top bars of the frames or from the queen excluder – a wire mesh frame with spaces wide enough to allow the workers and the drones through but too narrow for the queen, which prevent her from getting into the super, so she laid her eggs in the brood box and not where the honey ought to be.

The hooked end of the hive tool was for levering the frames proud of the brood box or super, just enough so you could take hold of the pegs on either end and lift the frame out. It was also used for moving the frames along inside the boxes, during inspection, and back to where they started, when you'd finished. William picked up the hive tool and looked at it. It was clean and shiny, just as it should be but, most importantly, it felt comfortable in his hand. The previous season, he had become used to keeping it in his hand all the time during inspections and, when not needed, he put it in the special pocket in his suit so he always knew where it was.

The only other essential tool was the bee brush. This had long, soft bristles and was used to gently brush the bees out of the way, when necessary, such as when putting the hive back together after an inspection. One really didn't want to crush bees between boxes.

But also, in his caddy, was a small bag of combustible materials for use in the smoker. These included some pieces of dry, rotten wood, some pine needles and also some wood shavings. These would burn slowly and give off a cold smoke rather than a hot one and, being natural materials, would not contain any chemicals that might be dangerous to the bees. There was a few sheets of newspaper, used for tinder to start the fire, and a box of extra-long matches – for lighting the smoker without burning your fingers - a Tupperware box, for collecting the excess brace comb wax in - William wasn't sure what he might use the wax for but he was sure it would be useful for something. And last, but not least, was a small torch – very useful when looking for tiny eggs inside the brood cups.

William switched on the torch to check it was working. It wasn't. It either needed a new battery or a new bulb or possibly both, he deduced. He put it in his pocket to take back into the house.

Kit inspection over, William returned all the tools to the caddy and, exiting the shed, locked it securely behind him. Then he ran indoors in search of Marie to help him sort out the torch.

ooOoo

So, lots to take in, there, but I hope you'll find it interesting and maybe useful, as the story progresses. :)