Chapter two
Sitting in my room at 221b Baker street, enjoying the rare peace and quiet that secluded the house. I closed my eyes, playing with the ring on my finger. I smiled and opened my eyes, admiring the emerald surrounded by diamonds and remembered how it was presented to me. I closed my eyes once again and placed my head back. I took a breath and smelled the familiar smell of gunpowder. My eyes snapped open and I frowned. Gunpowder in a house? What the hell was Holmes up to? I decided to leave it and closed my eyes once again. Whatever Holmes was up to, he would have to endure it on his own. That was when three large bangs rang through the house, making all the rooms shake. Once again, my eyes snapped open and I stood and almost ran out of the room. I pulled the door open and ran down the stairs to see Watson stood out on the landing outside Holmes' room. I approached them at the bottom of the staircase and smiled at our landlady. She looked at me anxiously and asked, "If the doctor can't have a longer engagement, then can't you have a shorter one?" she said and I could hear the hint underneath it.
My smile grew. "I think my mother and father may have something to say about that idea."
Before Mrs. Hudson could reply , a man walked out of Watson's office and looked at the three of us.
"I smell gunpowder." he stated and stepped towards us angrily that Watson had to step back a step or two. Another gunshot rang from the room opposite us, making us all jump with fright. Watson closed the gap between he and his patient, placing an arm on his shoulder.
"Thank you, Captain Phillips." he said kindly and calmly. "Perhaps a nice cup of tea?" He ushered him towards Mrs. Hudson. "Same time next week."
I stepped aside, allowing the two to pass, leaving Watson and myself to deal with Holmes.
"Come along, Captain. It's quieter downstairs."
"Mrs Hudson?" I asked before I entered the room. She turned to me, concern in her eyes. I pointed to the door. "Could you please bring something to cheer him up?"
She sighed and continued down the stairs. Watson looked at me and sighed heavily with a look that said 'here we go'.
He knocked on the door twice and opened it, without waiting for an invitation. The door, however, jammed after opening a few inches, barely enough room to squeeze through. Watson managed to, despite the small gap and I sneaked a look into the room. It was completely dark. Not a shred of light seemed to exist in that hellhole.
"Permission to enter the armoury?" I heard Watson ask Holmes, in an annoyed tone of voice.
"Granted." I heard Holmes mutter before hearing another enormous bang.
Watson managed to push the door open a little more and ushered me in. He led the way into the dark, dusky room, which smelled of smoke and god knows what else.
"Watson, I am in the process of inventing a device that suppresses the sound of a gunshot." Watson entered the room, heading straight for the large windows. I stepped in after him, pausing just by the door. It was then I noticed that Holmes was sitting behind the door, almost hiding behind it, in fact. He heard my footsteps and looked up at me. "Oh, hello Flo."
I tried my best to give him my sternest look, but I'm not sure how successful I was. Watson suddenly pulled the curtains open, causing Holmes to yell and fall off the chair he had been sitting on. I squinted at the bright light after just being in the dark room for a few seconds, so goodness knows what it did to Holmes' eyes.
Watson turned to face us. "It's not working." he told his friend, referring to the idea that Holmes had told him of. He approached him. "May I see that?" he asked, holding his hand out to receive the contraption that Holmes had been playing with. He recovered from his spot on the floor and I helped him back into his seat, he smiled his thanks to me. He handed Watson the device. The fire began to whistle and I moved to the table which was, as Holmes always said, 'organised mess'. I began to sort it, looking for cases the detective could spend his time on and Watson placed Holmes' gun on the table after unloading it. He walked from the table to the fireplace, which was now whistling frantically.
"You know, it's been three months since your last case." he informed his friend, kicking the whistling kettle out of the way and distinguishing the fire with a glass of water. He slammed the glass back down on the table and marched towards the next window.
Holmes realised what was on Watson's mind and peeked between his hands. "Yes, yes. Gently, gently Watson, be gentle with me." Watson threw the curtain open again and again, Holmes yelled and fell off his chair again.
Watson looked for a second at the crumpled man on the floor and then to the case notes I handed him. "Don't you think it's time you found another one?" he asked.
Holmes crawled out from where he had fallen and made his way across the room on his hands and knees. I shook my head, looking to the floor.
"I can't but agree." Holmes told Watson. "My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems. Give me work. The sooner the better." Watson handed him the paper and he took it from his place on the floor and made himself comfortable at Watson's feet, as Watson sat in a chair. I made my way over and stood in front of the window, enjoying the light that filled the room. Watson looked through the case reports while Holmes looked at the front page of the paper. I glanced over his shoulder. It was of the news of Blackwood's hanging which was due to take place tomorrow.
"Let's see then," Watson began. "There's a letter here from Mrs. Ramsey of Queen's Park. Her husband's disappeared."
"He's in Belgium with the scullery maid." Holmes said, before Watson could continue. Watson and I both looked at Holmes. Sometimes, it amazed me how his mind worked. He continued to look at the front page of the paper, confusion etching his face. "Is it November?" he asked.
I shook my head and looked at the floor again. "Yes, Sherlock."
He continued to look around the room in confusion, as though trying to sort things out in his head. Watson moved on and read the next case. "All right. Lady Radford reports.. Oh, her emerald bracelet has disappeared."
"Insurance swindle." Holmes informed us. "Lord Radford likes fast women and slow ponies." his eyes, I noticed, never left the paper. "Oh, I see you're the attending physician at Blackwood's hanging."
Watson looked at him. "Yes. It was our last case together and I wanted to see it through to the end."
Holmes' eyes left the paper and Watson looked at him, realising what he had said. An awkward silence set within the room for a second. I looked out of the window, unable to look at either of them. To think that the three of us wouldn't be working on a case together again felt all too weird.
There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Hudson walked in, sending us all out of our own places and back to the small dusky room that Holmes inhabited.
Holmes folded the paper and placed it to one side, eyes avoiding Watson. Mrs. Hudson turned the corner and faced the three of us.
"A Mr. Lewis is seeking-"
Holmes interrupted Watson. "There's only one case that intrigues me at present. The curious case of Mrs. Hudson, the absentee landlady." Both Watson and I looked at Holmes, frowning. Holmes, however was watching our landlady, eyes unblinking. "I've been studying her comings and goings. They appear most sinister." he finished with a whisper.
Mrs. Hudson, however, did not let it phase her. "Tea, Mr. Holmes." she stated, stepping towards us and the table. Watson moved to help her and I moved to Watson's previous seat.
"Is it poisoned, nanny?"
"There's enough of that in you, already." she replied witfully and laid the tea down.
"Don't touch!" Holmes protested. "Everything is in its proper place as per usual, nanny." He said the final word as hatefully as he could, though deep down, I don't think he hated the woman. Just disliked her. Mrs. Hudson laid everything on the table, took the tray, and turned to leave, but not before looking at a still figure laying on the floor.
"He's killed the dog. Again." She continued on her way, leaving us three to it.
Panic filled me and I rushed from my seat to where Watson's dog lay. "What have you done to Gladstone now?" I almost shouted at the man.
Holmes stood from where he was sat. "I was simply testing a new anesthetic. He doesn't mind."
I remained seated next to the poor, abused dog. Watson sighed heavily and turned to Holmes.
"Holmes, as your doctor-"
"He'll be right as a trivet in no time."
"As your friend…" Holmes looked at him and sighed, sitting in the seat Watson previously occupied. "You've been in this room for two weeks. I insist, you have to get out."
The dullness in my head signified a headache was on its way and I rubbed my head, looking between the two men.
"There's nothing of interest for me out there, on earth, at all." Holmes replied, setting his feet up.
Watson looked at me then put his hands in his pockets. I nodded my head, answering his unasked question.
"So you're free this evening?"
"Absolutely." Holmes replied.
"Dinner?"
"Wonderful."
"The Royale?"
"My favourite."
There was a moments silence. "Mary's coming." Watson turned to leave and I saw terror fill Holmes' eyes in a way I had never seen before.
"Not available." He suddenly said.
Watson stopped on his trek to the door. "You're meeting her, Holmes." I saw anger in his eyes and heard it in his voice. The two men rarely got angry with one another, but when they did, it was monstrous, and I, for one, stayed away from it.
Holmes turned away, as though he had nothing to say, then turned back to the doctor. "Have you proposed yet?" he raised his eyebrows, already knowing the answer.
Watson, also seeing where this was going, raised his eyebrows. "No," he confessed. "I haven't found the right ring."
"Oh, then it's not official." Holmes turned to me, giving me his cocky grin, thinking he was being clever. I just glared at him for embarrassing his friend in this way. Thank God it was only us here.
"It's happening, whether you like it or not." Watson confirmed. I saw Holmes' face fall in disappointment. "8.30. The Royale. Wear a jacket." and with that he exited the room, leaving me and Holmes alone. I heard quietly Holmes' reply just a second too late.
"You wear a jacket."
I sighed heavily and felt Holmes' eyes fall upon me. "What?" he asked me. Sometimes, men were worse than small children.
8.25. Sat at a table in The Royale. Goodness knows why Holmes wanted to come early. Hopefully, it was to show Watson that he finally accepted that things were moving with him and Mary. Although, I wasn't that naive.
I was dressed in my best, and favourite dress that Holmes had bought me. When I had worn it for the first time, he complimented how beautiful I looked and how the deep shade of purple and contrasted wonderfully against my emerald green eyes. I smiled at the memory and Holmes looked up across the table from his watch to admire me. A smile spread across his face.
"As always, you look beautiful in that dress."
My smile grew in response and I could feel myself blushing. I looked away to take a sip of my drink, although his eyes never left me, making me feel like a giggly little school girl, as he did every time he looked at me.
Suddenly a voice came from behind me. "Holmes."
Holmes' eyes moved up from me to look at who had called his name and took his attention. I looked behind myself. There stood Watson and Mary, arm in arm, Mary keeping her expression neutral and Watson glaring at Holmes.
"You're early." the doctor said.
"Fashionably." Holmes stated. We both stood to greet our guests.
"Miss Mary Morstan."
I stood and greeted Mary. She was a lovely woman, and I enjoyed her company. As I had told Watson many times before, to Holmes' disappointment, I thought he and Mary made a wonderful couple. I sat back down after acknowledging Watson and Holmes stepped towards Mary.
"What a pleasure." He kissed her hand. "For the life of me, I have no idea why it's taken him so long to introduce us properly." He looked at Watson and smiled, Watson looked directly back, and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
"The pleasure is mine. " Mary said, taking a seat in between Holmes and I. "It really is quite a thrill to meet you, Mr. Holmes. I've heard so much about you. I have a pile of detective novels at home. Wilkie Collins, Poe."
"It's true." Watson confirmed. I glanced at him. He was looking very nervous. More so than Mary, I thought.
"It can seem a little far-fetched though sometimes," Mary continued. "Making grand assumptions out of small details."
It wasn't entirely true, I'll be honest with you, but I wasn't going to prove the lady wrong. Besides, who was I to tell her?
"Well, that's not entirely true, is it?" Holmes asked. I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. The man could be so annoying at times. Watson laid a hand on my shoulder in comfort and I was glad someone was here to support me. I smiled my thanks at him. "In fact," Holmes continued, "the little details are by far the most important." Mary tried to smile through her embarrassment and I smiled at her. "Take Watson," he said.
"I intend to." Mary stated, causing Holmes to stop his sentence and me to giggle. Holmes ignored both Mary and I, and continued.
"See his walking stick? A rare African snake wood hiding a blade of high-tensile steel." He pulled on the stick and sure enough, Watson's secret weapon was revealed. If Mary was surprised to see the blade, she hid it very well. "A few were awarded to veterans of the Afghan war so I can assume he's a decorated soldier." Holmes explained and Watson shuffled in his seat, uncomfortable with the spotlight suddenly on him. "Strong, brave, born to be a man of action. And neat, like all military men." Holmes carried on. "Now I check his pockets." Watson tried his best to stop our friend to riffle through his pockets but to no avail. Holmes pulled out a used betting stub. "Ah. A stub from a boxing match." he turned to Mary, who smiled at Holmes, never taking her eyes off him. "Now I can infer he's a bit of a gambler. I'd keep an eye on that dowry, if I were you." he threw the stub onto the table.
"Those days are behind me." Watson assured us.
"Right behind you." the detective countered. "He's cost us the rent more than once." he told Mary.
"Sherlock," I said under my breath, not loudly, but the tone was just so he knew he was pushing his luck. I couldn't believe this, I couldn't believe he was doing this. Well, yes, I could actually, this was Sherlock Holmes, but I made myself clear this evening that he was to keep his big mouth shut. I looked up from the spot I was staring at in the table to his direction, to find him looking at me with an innocent look on his face. He opened his mouth to protest but shook my head firmly before anything left it. His mouth closed and he kept his eyes down. He knew that I was angry. I don't get angry often, I'm a very peaceful person but he infuriated me so much and I was glad that he knew it.
"Well, with all due respect, Mr. Holmes, you know John very well." Mary said, and again, I put my head in my hands, knowing exactly where this was going. "What about a complete stranger?"
Holmes looked up to the ceiling and I saw him actually considering the offer. "What can you tell about me?" she asked.
"You?" Holmes asked softly, looking at her.
"I don't think that's-" Watson started.
"I don't know that that's.." Holmes commented.
"Not at dinner." I added.
"Perhaps some other time." Holmes said, looking at Mary.
"I insist." She told him.
"You insist?" he asked her.
"Oh, God," I muttered, a little too loudly, I fear, because Mary shot me a look. I began to fiddle with the engagement ring on my finger, a sure sign that I was getting nervous.
"You remember we discussed this." Watson told Holmes.
"The lady insists." Holmes retorted. They both held each others gaze for several seconds, though to each of us on the table, it felt like moments. Once again, I could feel the dull thud in my head and tried to block it out.
Holmes gave a final look at Watson, then at me, and pushed his chair towards Mary, who held her ground, and put his head in his hand, looking at her intently. He was silent for a few seconds, whilst the two of them looked at each other, unblinking, Mary challenging him and Holmes accepting it. I glanced at Watson, who glanced at back at me, as much worry etched into his face as there was in mine. We both turned back at them, both afraid of the outcome.
"You're a governess." Holmes stated.
"Well done." Mary said.
"Yes, well done." Watson said. "Shall we-" he placed his hand to a waiter for some wine. "Waiter," he called.
"Your student" Holmes thought a bit more. "is a boy of eight." he concluded.
Mary's face was unfaltering, I'll give her that. "Charlie's seven, actually." she corrected him.
"Charlie, huh?" Holmes contemplated, and I had the sudden realisation he was toying with her. This was simply for his own amusement. As soon as Watson had finished pouring a glass of wine for me, I picked the glass up and took a large sip, trying to hide my anger at the stubborn man. "Then he's tall for his age. He flicked ink at you today." He took the drink that Watson had poured for him and placed it on the table.
Mary broke her eye contact with Holmes to look at Watson, a bright smile on her face. "Do I have ink on my face?"
Watson looked up from his wine pouring duties. "There's nothing wrong with your face." he assured her.
"There are two drops on your ear, in fact." Holmes informed her. "India blue's nearly impossible to wash off." Mary looked from Holmes, to me, then to Watson, obviously a little impressed at the observation. She wasn't the first to be impressed by it and she certainly wouldn't be the last. I watched the two of them closely, sipping my wine every so often. "Anyway, a very impetuous act by the boy." Holmes continued. " But you're too experienced to act rashly, which is why the lady for whom you work lent you that necklace." The smile faded from Mary's face and she looked from Holmes to the beautiful necklace she was wearing. "Oriental pearls, diamonds, a flawless ruby. Hardly the gems of a governess." She looked from the necklace to Watson, who tried his best not to say anything to our friend, and giving Mary a kind look of support. Mary glanced back at Holmes. "However, the jewels you are not wearing tell us rather more." he told her.
"Holmes," Watson warned him, but he ignored the doctor and continued.
"You were engaged." he said. I pulled my eyes from Mary's face to her left hand on the table and sure enough, if you looked carefully and knew what you were looking for, there was the unmistakeable ring of pale skin around her finger, where a small, delicate ring once was. "The ring is gone, but the lighter skin where it once sat suggests that you spent some time abroad wearing it proudly," Mary, at this point, had tried unsuccessfully hide her finger, then took her glass, avoiding Holmes' gaze completely. "That is until you were informed of its true, modest worth, at which point you broke off the engagement, and returned to England for better prospects." Mary lowered her glass slightly and glared at Holmes. He looked away to Watson. "A doctor, perhaps?" he joked.
It was no surprise, to Holmes even, when Mary threw the remainder of her wine in his face. An awkward silence filled the table, the three of us glaring at Holmes and Holmes still smiling at his friend. Mary placed down the glass after a moment and Watson looked down, ashamed of how far his friend had pushed. I took my gaze from him to anywhere, also ashamed of his insensitive ways.
After the shocked silence, Mary was the first of us to speak.
"Right on all accounts, Mr. Holmes, apart from one." she looked up to him, for the first time since his accusation, waiting for a reaction she would never get. "I didn't leave him. He died." Still with no reaction, she nodded her head in farewell to me and looked at John, picked up her bag and left the table. Anger seeped through my veins as she walked away and I shifted my eyes reluctantly towards Holmes, who removed his hand from his face and sighed thoughtfully. I wondered then if he had regretted the way in which he had done things.
"Well done, old boy." Watson said, then looked at me, a sad smile across his face. I smiled sadly back, and he stood from the table and went in the direction Mary went. I glared at the man sat across from me.
"How could you?" I almost spat the question at him.
He shrugged. "She insisted." he told me in a monotone voice.
"She insisted?" I repeated, completely shocked. I could really feel the anger in my veins surging now, and if I wasn't careful, it would pour out at any moment.
He nodded and I was completely speechless. Angry and speechless. Anyone can tell you that does not happen with me everyday. What was it about this man that infuriated me so? I looked into his deep, dark eyes and saw nothing there. Absolutely nothing. I averted my green eyes from his brown eyes and looked down into my lap. The ring on my finger caught my attention. The emerald caught the light and glittered. I was entranced by it, almost. Then he took my attention from the beautiful jewel.
"Did I mention how beautiful you look this evening?"
The question infuriated me. How could he embarrass Mary and Watson like that and expect to go back to how it was before they arrived? How dare he? I stood from my seat and stared him straight in the eyes and said something to him I never dreamed I would say. "I am ashamed to call you my fiancé sometimes, Sherlock!"
The words I said were not loud but were said in such a tone that he looked at me a shocked expression on his face. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but nothing came out. Before he could think of something witty and Holmes-like to say, I took my bag and walked out of the restaurant without a look back.