Chapter Three: Ebony
When Shea first came into my room, I was confused, we are good friends and all, but this was unusual, even from the start. It was the late morning, a strange time, and she looked... determined? but yet... annoyed. Probably something to do with our father. And indeed it was. All she said was that we were leaving, and to pack up. I thought it strange, but complied. A small duffle bag was pulled out and quickly filled with necessary items. about 45 minutes later, Shea came back in.
"I'm sorry Eb... Dad asked, I really have no idea what he wants, but we're to visit a man in London, Sherlock Holmes, and give him this." She held up a binder.
"I was told not to look in it."
"And you actually complied?" I asked incredulously, she was notorious for getting into peoples business.
"I want to prove to him, finally, that I can do things! I can help! He always liked you more..." Shea looked down
.
"I- You know that's not true..." I said quickly. She looked up
"Do I? Anyway, he gave me this letter as well." She handed me an envelope, which i quickly looked through.
"Mysterious... " I said simply, thinking to myself. then looking up at her. "I'm ready and packed, are you?" I gestured to the gray duffle bag. She then giggled nervously.
"Could you...? I...uh..." I raised my eyebrows. She looked down. "I can't pack..." leading me to her room I saw what was true. It looked as if a tornado had hit. The bag had clothing falling out of it, none of it folded. I stood in shock for several minutes.
"Eb. Eb? Ebony?" Shea waved her hand in my face. "Oh come on, it's not that bad! I looked at her and pushed up my sleeves.
"Come along, Shea." and dug into the pile.
The next morning, the both of us got up groggily, having been packing all night long. Even I, usually a morning person, up quickly, was not so...alert. After remembering though, I quickly got up and ready. I knocked on Shea's door to wake her, who responded with a groan. After a couple a minutes, she emerged, sleepy eyed, but dressed and ready. We both walked down the stairs, dragging our cases behind us. At the foot of the stairs stood our father, looking eerily eager. He clasped his hand together and let us pass, following closely behind.
"Now girls, the plan is for you to stay for about two months, of course that could change, but just for your knowledge." He walked down to the garage, and gave me the car keys. "Here Ebony. drive down to the station, there, one of my agents will be waiting to take the car home." He stopped. The three of us waited in silence.
"Um... okay," I said, trying to break the tension, but not really succeeding, Shea and I got into the car, (a small, inconspicuous one.) and pulled out of the driveway.
The trip down was very quiet, not that Shea did not try to make conversation, but it sort of just... flew away. We did not really know what we were doing. As Father had said, we met a man at the train station. He did not say anything, just helped us with our bags, and then solemnly drove away. It was a bit of a weird feeling, being alone on one of father's cases, he never really let us help. It was the first time, and it felt very surreal. We boarded the train and went into a separate carriage. Before the train started, a man came around gathering tickets, we handed him ours silently and off he went, soon the train started, and we were whisked along.
"Do you know where we are staying?" Shea said, trying an attempt at conversation. She had given me the envelope, and knowing her tendency to lose things, it was a good idea. I pulled out one of the papers and looked over it quickly.
"It look's like we are staying in the flat below Sherlock. 221 C." I looked farther down the paper were a brief description lay. "After the original owner, a Mrs. Hudson died,the famous Sherlock Holmes bought the flats, saying he could not bear anyone else owning them. He has been renting out the basement flat though, 221 C to others while him and his wife Molly live in the upper flats, his original, 221 B and 221 A. You can contact him at 020-555-3749 to rent the basement flat." I read. sad... I thought. My father always portrayed Sherlock as cold. My mother on the other hand, thought he was warmer. Now I could see where both came from. We were silent for a few minutes, silently struck by the sad tale.
"So we are literally living in Sherlock's house?" Shea asked. I nodded, smiling at her.
"Sherlock and Molly, yes."I replied to her. She smiled excitedly and looked out the window of the train, watching the trees wizz past. She looked at me again.
"What about furniture?" she asked.
"Already taken care of." I said, whipping out a paper.
"Fantastic." she said dazed. I frowned. She seemed overly excited for this. When I had gotten notice, I was worried. I will not lie to say my father is a good man. He is horrible. a full fledged criminal, genius. but he was my father and unfortunately, there was not anything Shea or I could do about it. Fortunately, he usually keeps us apart from his business, but now? I was worried what he was thinking up, there must be some other reason to use us. I looked through the window, gazing off into the distance, but not paying attention. Eventually the train slowed to a stop, and we got out on the edge of bustling London. Looking around, slightly stunned, we slowly walked to the edge of the station. then, gathering my wits slightly, I raised my hand, calling a taxi. We ran into one, and they quickly took us into the middle of the city, and dropped us off at the place. We got out and stopped, the taxi drove away. It was not horribly impressive, but something about it shook us... we stood for a couple minutes staring before walking up to the door. I slowly knocked, softly, then harder and louder. A woman came to the door, She was kind looking, and softly pretty. She had light brown hair and brown eyes. I assumed it was Molly. She smiled and let us in.
"You must be the young women who wanted to rent the basement flat. I think you'll find it accommodating, we have fixed it up a bit since Mrs. Hudson passed away. Can I see your papers?" She asked as she pulled a ring of keys off the wall. I pulled out the paper, suddenly guilty, I felt intruding, Shea on the other side, was excited as ever. Molly looked it over quickly and grinned, handing us a smaller ring attached to the larger.
"The flat is down that way." She pointed to a 5 step staircase. "I'll bring Sherlock down later, I'm sure he'll want to meet our new neighbors." I smiled at her and turned, opening our door. The handle turned and we walked in.
