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CHAPTER 3 – Little Bird
John woke to the sound of a melody filled with the song of happiness and joy. The song crept along the floor and slid into every crevice, brightening each area that is touched. The petite bird that was perched on the windowsill kept singing its song as John slowly prepared for his day. His eyes were still slightly red and puffy from the vent of emotions from the night before and as he brushed his teeth he realised that he didn't feel as distraught as previous days. The water was cleansing and refreshing as it splashed over John's clean-shaven face and woke the middle-aged man with a new revival. John felt something in his heart that was different but he knew he had felt it before; it was perseverance, he had felt it when he struggled in the war and when he pursued the lady he loved. But this time it was perseverance for a better way of life, John had lived without Sherlock before and he could live without him now.
The room felt brighter and more upbeat as the bacon and eggs proceeded to sizzle on the pan and the smell of a strong coffee wafted in from downstairs. Mrs Hudson was obviously awake and buzzing as usual, had she even missed the man? The little bird silently flew into the room and perched itself on the opposite end of the table to John. He remembered the date and locked it in his memory; as it was New Years Eve he knew he had to get Mary something beautiful as a gift and an apology. His scarf was quickly whipped around his neck as he bounded down the steps from the apartment and as he opened the door and the wind smelt of fresh rain, John Watson did something he hadn't done in a long time. He smiled and with a skip in his step, made his way to the heart of London.
The lights were dazzling and were slightly blinding as he entered back into the public and back into the world of words, emotions, and memories. He wandered through store upon store trying to find the perfect gift and that was when he saw it. An Aquamarine and Micropave Diamond Pendant set in 18K White Gold. The price didn't matter to John as he imagined it resting between Mary's fair and pale collarbones. They matched her eyes perfectly and he just imagined her face as he asked for it to be wrapped in their finest wrapping. That's when he felt something strange, a tingling sensation that ran up his body leaving him in goose bumps and shivering. The hairs on his arms were standing straight as the shivers convulsed and pumped through his spine. It seemed like and eternity until they finished but as he looked back, the man at the counter had only just finished the knot he started apparently a few seconds ago.
His shoes made a clicking sound as he walked along the path to Mary's house and with each puddle he stepped in he became slightly more childish until he found himself practically jumping into the puddles. The night birds started cooing and singing their individual songs as he reached her house and raised the bronze knocker in hesitation. He paused to the sound of laughter and people talking and eventually slammed the knocker against the door. The sound of her heels on the bare wooden floor sent chills up John's spine and as the door opened, tears welled in his eyes. "Mary, please forgive me, I know I have been absolutely horrid to you but please, I need you." That confession left him almost on his knees as he slowly pulled out the box holding the necklace. Her long slender hand rested over his as she exclaimed, "John, I don't need gifts as an apology I just want you to be alright and to be happy." As she wrapped his arms around him, John's cold heart slowly started to warm up and as they stood there, the 9:00 fireworks started and created a myriad of colours splashed across the night sky leaving both of them in awe as if they were children. "Come on, John. We have some aged Shiraz and some snacks. Come get warm." And there in the shadows as John entered the house, a tall and thin man slowly turned up the collar of his long trench coat and as he walked away, his silhouette was that of mystery, of deductions, of pain, of heartache, but John's imagination slowly faded and left.