From: Molly Hooper, to Sherlock Holmes, sent 5 October 1940.

Dearest Sherlock,

(This letter will have to be short, as I'm writing it while holed up in an Underground station, and there is little to no light in here, so forgive any errors I might make.)

I doubt it would surprise you if I admitted the shock your letter has brought me. Shock, and surprise—though I'm sure those two things are interchangeable—and well, delight. In fact, I think I yelped when I opened up the envelope, scanned your words and saw the news. I've relayed it to practically everyone; I even told the postal officer! As soon as I met Mary on the bus, I told her. She gasped, and as is her way, demanded to read the letter to see if I wasn't lying. I tried to refuse, but you know Mary; she's an intimidating woman when she wishes to be. I did only let her read the first paragraph though. The rest of your words are, after all, private, and only to be shared between us. I pretty much told Mary that. She seems to understand, especially in such a time as this.

Everyone else though—everyone else simply marvelled at the news when I told them! Especially Mrs Hudson. After receiving your letter, I zipped straight over to Baker Street and told her. She almost fainted! She told me she was "just being silly", but I'm pretty sure it was just the overwhelming sense of relief that had her so affected. I know because I was rather wobbly-legged when I first read your letter. She's already organising your welcome home party! I told her it wasn't for another three months, but she's still requested I ask you what flavour sandwiches you'd prefer for the buffet (yes, she's planning a buffet—I'll try to rein her in, but you know how difficult that can be). Sally remained perfectly calm, blessed woman that she is. I know you and her don't always see eye to eye, but I have to say, her calmness and her strength does help me bolster my own, especially when I'm feeling down after listening to the radio.

In fact, I've been listening to the radio pretty much non-stop lately (accounts for my tiring of Vera Lynn I suppose) and although there's been no mention of your company, it still hurts my heart to know of just how many people are suffering and how many fatalities have come because of this war—on both sides.

It also hurts to hear people speak of Germany in such violent, awful ways. I fear Adolf Hitler and the Nazis as much as anybody, but if one takes away the nationalities—German, British, Italian, Japanese—then all you are left with is death, not just of soldiers, but of civilians too. Everyone in the world is losing someone special to them; someone they love and have promised to cherish.

Oh dear. That's not very cheerful is it? No, not at all. And I promised myself I would be! You're already in the trenches—you don't want me waxing lyrical about death and identity and nationality, now do you? To tell the truth, I think I blame the radio. They keep speaking of the Blitz, and which cities are the next targets of the bombs. I honestly can't believe it sometimes. These air raids have been going on for months now, and still they continue. Will Hitler never be satisfied? I can't help but wonder what exactly he hopes to achieve. The world? Is that what he wants? Well, if he wants the world, then he can have it, and clean up the mess he's made.

Molly.