"Feelings"
I awoke the next morning at the sound of voices downstairs. It was a sunny day and birds were singing out of the window. The room was warm and dimly bright, for the curtains were still closed. I enjoyed the sensation of peace and quiet of the place, snuggling under the covers where I still could feel the heat of Holmes' body. His scent filled the soft linen sheet. Breathing him, I remained in that warm and safe nest for some minutes, then got up and dressed.
Descending the stairs, I accidentally heard part of a conversation between my friend and Mrs. Hudson. They were talking about me (that was amusing) and pretending to be quiet, thinking I was still asleep. I stopped and wait on the last flight of stairs, to hear something more.
"Should I take him some breakfast upstairs, Mr. Holmes? The doctor deserves his sleep"
"If you don't mind, if he doesn't show up, I'd like to do take him something myself on a tray. But thank you for your advice, Mrs. Hudson."
I couldn't believe this was really happening. My friend, the most selfish man on earth, was accepting advices by the woman he used to call Nanny just because that didn't please her, poor she.
But it seemed that, lately, their stormy relationship had changed into a more pacific one. The little creature who was growing inside me was already making miracles.
"Are you planning on taking him to town today?" the land-lady asked.
"I don't know. I'll ask him if he wants to, if he is not tired for the long trip we had yesterday."
"You know, Mr. Holmes, I was wrong in judging you, after all. You take care of him very well. He is a lucky man."
"Thank you, I appreciate it. But I am not as good as you!" he replied. He cleared his throat, that admission should had cost him a lot, and to say it aloud even more. "Now, if you excuse me, I am going to see if the doctor is awake." And he stood up from where he was seated to leave the room.
I didn't want to be caught in the act of hearing, unseen, their conversation on purpose so I hurried down the stairs, but I failed the last steps (there was, I discovered later, a very smooth spot on one of the wooden board of the last steps and I had slipped on it) and landed with my backside on the floor, just outside the door where they were.
Both Holmes and Mrs. Hudson hurried out of the sitting room, clearly worried.
"Watson, what happened? Are you alright?" the man asked me.
"I only have slipped on a smooth spot, Holmes, no need to worry." I explained them, feeling ashamed of my awkwardness.
"But in your condition… do you want me to call a doctor to check on you? Mrs. Hudson, please, would you mind…"
"Holmes" I interrupted him sharply "there is no need, really, I am perfectly alright. And just to remember it to you, I am a doctor myself! I assure you, only my pride is wounded. Help me up, please!" I retorted, feeling a little upset at them.
Once I was on my feet again, I walked the few steps to the sitting room with my friend on my left and the land-lady on my right, both ready to catch me if had fallen again. That was really unnerving, but I tried to ignore them and did not show my state of mind. I sat at the small table and asked about breakfast. They still were looking at me with concern and I tried to lighten the atmosphere talking about the present day and what we could do. It took a while, but at the end I succeed in my purpose. Holmes resumed his usual mood and I was grateful for it.
After breakfast, we decided to go for a walk in the surroundings, since when we arrived yesterday in the late afternoon it was already dark and we could not enjoy the beautiful sight that was now in front of us. I could also appreciate better the architecture of the cottage, that I liked very much.
The cottage looked someway timeless, tidy and comfortable. The contrast between the white of the walls and the dark grey of the roof gave it a bucolic style. The garden that surrounded it was magnificent. There were bushes of lavender under every window of the ground floor, with many flowers already and bees all around them, making their characteristic buzzing and that was our natural background music. A green grass encircled the house, and there were paths made of stones in it: one led to the main door, while others led to different parts of the garden where there were funny wooden benches and tables, I supposed to have tea in the afternoon, if the weather allowed it. The end of the property was delimited by giant bushes of hydrangea with pink and blue flowers. Here and there, there were little trees and in the far corner a beautiful oak. It seemed that both the house and the garden and the trees were born together to give life to this marvelous place. I was not used to live in the country, so I was particularly fascinated by the atmosphere of this place. I discovered in that occasion how much I loved flowers, for their colors were so vivid and they gave me a sense of peace and joy. The wood near the cottage, with the path we walked the night before, was beautiful too. I had always thought that wood were dark places, but I clearly was wrong because this one was enlighten and the sunshine rays seemed to fall from above the trees to the ground and the way the light filtered through the branch of trees was spectacular.
At some point, I turned to see where Holmes was and found him looking at me with a huge smile on his face. Did I do something to amuse him? I asked to myself, then I thought I was probably so lost in my contemplation to assume an expression he called of Ecstatic State.
"Did I do that again?" I asked him, feeling my cheeks blushing.
"You were totally absorbed of this place. I have never seen you like this before. I bet this place likes you very much. I am glad of it!" he answered, not letting the smile fading away.
"I find it so peaceful and the nature here is so very different from the London's parks. You know that this morning I was awoken by the songs of the birds?"
"I feared it was me and Mrs. Hudson talking that woke you. I am happy to hear we did not disturb your sleep." He watched me in amusement, he wanted to say something but he didn't.
"What is it, Holmes? Spill it out, I know you are going to say something, so just say it."
"Me? You're wrong , my dear Watson. I have nothing to confess. But you…"
"Me? Confess? I don't know what are you talking about."
"So, let me help you. It is true that this morning you slipped on the smooth step because you were hurrying down the stairs?"
"Yes, it is true. I have already told you that."
"But why were you hurrying? You ate very little at breakfast, so you were not so hungry."
"I don't know, Holmes, I did not notice I was hurrying."
"Well, what I noticed is that your last steps were heavy, I deduced it from the little crack of the wooden boards. But the stair has sixteen steps, and I heard that sound just six times. Then you slipped on the last ones and you missed two of them. That makes eight steps of the last flight. Are you sure you have nothing to say?" he asked again.
I was growing frustrating, I knew where he wanted to go. But I would never have admit it in front of him.
"I have nothing to say. So what?" I stated.
"So I think you woke up this morning, you get dressed after having stayed some minutes under the covers and when you were on the first flight of the stairs you, oh not on purpose, I know that!, you heard my conversation with Mrs. Hudson. You stopped your descent because you were curious and amused, then I decided to leave the room and you had to hurry or I would have discovered you in the unpleasant act of spying our conversation. Am I correct?" he finally finished his dissertation and waited for my reply.
No no no I was not going to say him he was right. I pretended to be distracted by some flower on the path we were walking in.
"So, Watson, do I have to deduce that I was right, after all?" he asked again.
I do love this man! I thought. Even he is unnerving but I do love him! And I confessed. The frustration was gone.
"Yes, Holmes, you are right. I should have told you, I know, I just thought it was not necessary to point it out. I am sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about, my dear. I am just displeased that you heard me behave in a such a goofy way with Mrs. Hudson."
"Why do you say so? I am pleased to see that your relationship with her has improved to a civilized level."
"Oh, well, lately I appreciate her for what she really is."
"What she really is?"
"A mother hen, to you, always. She cooks for you, she worries for you, she went here alone to make sure you would be comfortable enough even if she was terrified to spend the night alone in the cottage near the wood."
"I did not know it. I would have not let her come alone if I only knew…"
"I did not know either, I deduced it from the dark circles under her eyes yesterday afternoon, and the fact that she left early to go to bed… She did it for you, Watson."
"I should go and tell her it was not necessary, otherwise she would think I am a insensitive man."
"She would not admit it, so don't embarrass her."
"If you say so, Holmes!"
We walked for a short while in silence, then I broke the curtain of shame of feelings that often divided us and asked him a very direct question.
"Are you jealous of her, Holmes?"
He did not answer immediately, I suppose ha was searching the correct words to express his feelings. When he spoke, there was a kind and sweet voice in his tone he had only used once when I was feverish and delirious.
"I would love to be the one and only to take care of you, John. But I am not good in this work. I need her help just as you. Most of the times, I can see things how they really are: Mrs. Hudson did not have any children, and so she transferred on you all her love and sympathy. And I am glad for it. But other times, I am jealous of her, because she knows things I do not , and she knows what do you need before you ask her. I know it is not rational, but that is how I feel."
I had no other way to answer him but kissing him, and he kissed me in return. And we hold on each other. Eventually, we separated.
"I think we should come back, now" he said then. "We could have a nap and then I'd like you to see a small lake nearby."
"I have slept for ten hours, Holmes, I don't think I can sleep again. But I'd like to see the lake."
"You'll love it!"
We went back to the cottage, where we had a little lunch. And I slept, again. Then we went to see the lake. As he suggested, I simply loved it.
"You know, Holmes" I said him before sleep came to claim me again that evening "I really love this place and I enjoyed our day. I think I could stay here forever."
He simply said "Good night, John!" but it was everything to me.