Once again, thank you to all the reviewers! I was going to save the Beeches/Beaches explanation until later but since it came up, I made it work here. (I hope!)
As before, I don't own these characters or the basic storyline. And you might think Sherlock is slightly OOC but, this is my world and this is how I want MY Sherlock to behave! :)
Chapter Seven: The Title Explication
"I want to play with you tonight," Sherlock said as they walked to his room, his hand resting protectively on her back. After finishing their "relationship" conversation, if one could call it that, they'd decided it would be best to focus on finishing the case so they could get back to London as soon as possible. Sherlock didn't like being out of the city for too long; he thought it put him at a disadvantage.
Violet hadn't considered going back to London when she had originally planned the trip but Sherlock offered to show her some compositions he'd been working on and she was intrigued. Well, that was the reason she was going to give her family when she explained her change in schedule. To be honest, she agreed to return to London with him simply because he asked. She wasn't quite sure what his answer to her question regarding lodging meant but she was taking his remark, You will stay with me, of course; the bed is large enough, to mean they'd be cohabiting. Just the chance of that was intriguing enough to pay the airline change fee.
"I imagine you mean the violin," she clarified.
"Yes. Whatever would I mean?"
She raised an eyebrow at him and it clicked; a barely whispered oh was all he could manage. He cleared his throat and she laughed. "I'm sorry, Sherlock, but you make it so easy!" He rolled his eyes and changed the subject.
"When will they be back?"
"The family? Oh, I'm sure they're back already. They usually have lunch and then hang around the library. Lesson time is at 3 on Sundays."
"Shall we practice now, then?"
"Of course. I'll need about an hour to warm up. Is that enough for you?"
"That will do," he replied. "I'll rouse John and join you in the ballroom. You have your iPhone with you, yes?" She held it up for him to see.
"My metronome - I don't go anywhere without it!" He paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned to her.
"Violet, would this be an instance where kissing you would be appropriate?"
"Well, I don't think it's in the handbook but… would you like to?"
He didn't answer her, rather he dipped down and kissed her on the lips once. And then just as suddenly he disappeared behind the door. She blinked several times and laughed to herself before practically skipping down the back stairs and out into the Main Hall where she stopped. Mr. Rucastle was standing at the door to the North Wing and it was wide open. She held her breath, doing her best to be invisible, as he hurriedly shut the door and locked it. When she realized he was going to walk smack into her, she flew out into the open as if she had just arrived on the scene. Mr. Rucastle stopped, stared at her for a moment with a look of sheer panic on his face, then turned abruptly in the opposite direction and ran up the main staircase.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she continued on to the ballroom and took her place at the piano, placing her iPhone on the music stand. She opened the metronome app, set it to 60, and began to work through the Hanon exercises she'd been playing since before she could even remember. Her fingers instinctively moved to the correct keys without her conscious knowledge and the repetitiousness gave her time to think about what she just witnessed. What was he doing in the North Wing? What's in there exactly? A counterfeit money press? An alien? Jimmy Hoffa? She was so lost in thought that she didn't even hear Sherlock and John come in. She finished the final measures and turned off the metronome.
"We tried to be quiet," said John as Sherlock unlocked his violin case and placed the sheet music on the closed piano lid. "Didn't want to scare you."
"Appreciate that, John, but a bomb could go off when I'm playing and I wouldn't hear it," she explained. "Just like an athlete gets in the 'zone,' whenever I play, I go to a place in my mind where it's just me and the instrument."
"Sherlock does that - sometimes for days at a time. I get so much done not having to fetch him a pencil or run to the shops for milk. Or a pint of radioactive waste - now that was a fun one to explain."
"The innocence of our client relied solely on the effects of nuclear exposure on postage stamp adhesive, John," explained Sherlock matter-of-factly. "I believe you called that case The Adventure of the Mailed Lodger." John and Violet burst out laughing; Sherlock raised the violin and played a scale as loudly as possible. Violet held out her hand to him and he scowled in confusion. "Give it here," she waved her outstretched hand towards his violin.
"What?" he asked.
"It needs tuning." He reluctantly handed it over to her and crossed his arms.
"I just tuned it," he muttered. Violet played the same scale, adjusted the pegs, played the scale again and handed it back to him. "You have perfect pitch," he said simply.
"Yes. It's a gift until your little sister's recorder recital. Then you pray a rogue lightning bolt puts you out of your misery," she smiled and turned back to the piano.
"So - Danse Macabre, Camille Saint-Saëns. Before we try it together, let's play it once through alone just to hear each other. John, you'll recognize this I'm sure but it will sound a little strange separately. I'll go first, ok?" Sherlock nodded and she launched into the piece. When she finished, John applauded.
"Why do I know that?" he asked.
"Oh, it's been used in just about every horror movie since 1872," she explained. "The original piece was a tone poem about dead people partying in a cemetery. You know, just some light entertainment."
"Sort of a Night of the Living Dead for the late 19th century," John joked.
"Where do you go?" asked Sherlock suddenly.
"Sorry?"
"When you play - where do you go?"
"Oh," she blushed. "It's kind of silly."
"I imagine so but tell me anyway," he insisted.
"Ok, well, I went to Greece on a school trip and was just amazed by the red sand on the beach in Santorini. My friends said it looked like a B-horror movie set, but I thought it was the most amazing place I'd ever been. Kool-aid blue water flowing over thousands of shiny copper pennies. I felt surrounded by all that is beautiful and perfect and spiritual and I never wanted to leave. So I created my own version: my Copper Beaches, my sanctuary." She paused and cleared her throat. Sherlock placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "But that's enough about me! It's your turn Sherlock."
She sat next to John on the small sofa and Sherlock played his half of the duet. "Bravo!" she exclaimed as they applauded. "Ready to put it all together?" They agreed on a metronome setting and tested the first few measures. Once satisfied, they ran through the entire piece several times.
"I think we've got it. We should be good to go tonight," she said as she closed the music.
"We play well together," said Sherlock.
"There aren't many people with whom I share music, Sherlock. Funny…. you seem to be the exception to just about every rule I have." She suddenly slapped herself on the forehead. "Ugh! I totally forgot to tell you - when I came down I caught the Master of the House leaving the North Wing."
"What? How?"
"Apparently the door works," she explained. "When Mr. R. saw me, he just stood and stared at me before running upstairs. It was pretty bizarre."
"How interesting," Sherlock said, his mind already working. "What could possibly be in there?"
"Maybe it's the place where all those lost socks go," offered John.
"Did he have a key?" interrupted Sherlock with a sidewards glance telling John he was being irrelevant. Again.
"Yes - I got a look at it and I'm fairly sure it's the same one Mr. Toller uses," Violet said. "He keeps it on his belt loop; I've only ever seen him take it off when he's particularly toasted."
"Toasted? Honestly, it's like you speak a foreign language sometimes," John joked.
"Sorry - pissed," she corrected. "Mr. Toller has a taste for fine Scotch. Unfortunately, he can only afford something that smells a bit like lighter fluid. Now if you boys were to somehow come up with a bottle of something older than a few weeks…" she paused while they caught on.
"I think we can manage that," offered John. "Come on Sherlock, let's talk a walk. At this point I think I could find alcohol if I were blindfolded."
"Fine. We will be back before dinner," Sherlock nodded at her and she winked. When they had gone she took out a book of staff paper and sat at the keys. There were a few hours before Eddie's lesson and she wanted to write down a melody that had been dogging her all day. Violet was deep in thought when Mr. Rucastle entered the ballroom. He stood in her line of sight until she put down her pencil and acknowledged him.
"Violet, I wanted to talk to you about earlier," he said. She turned to face him and put on her best confused face. "I have a.. uh… a darkroom set up in the North Wing. I haven't had much time to devote to a hobby, but the company pretty much runs itself now so I'm getting back into it."
"OK," she said slowly.
"It's just that, well, no one knows about my photography and I'd like to keep it that way," he explained. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to anyone."
"I won't say a word."
"Thank you, Violet," he said just as Eddie ran in waving a piece of music.
"Violet! I want to learn this now," the boy exclaimed and thrust the paper at her.
"Have a good lesson," Mr. Rucastle said and, realizing his son had absolutely no interest in his presence, left the ballroom, closing the doors behind him. Violet had always thought there was something strange about the relationship between Father and Son but she hadn't realized the extent of the issue until just then. Clearly, the two Rucastle men wanted nothing to do with each other. Violet filed it away to think about later and let Eddie take the bench to warm up. As he worked through the same Hanon drills she had played earlier, she took a look at the new music he wanted to learn: Gloomy Sunday by Rezső Seress, also known as the Hungarian Suicide Song.
"Edward," she said softly and touched his shoulder. "Edward, why do you want to learn this song in particular?" He stopped playing and faced her, his clear blue eyes boring into her. Violet had reminded herself this was a child and not a serial killer. Yet.
"It makes people commit suicide," he said matter-of-factly.
"That's just an urban legend, Edward," she explained. "Music doesn't make people kill themselves, you know that." He shrugged and returned to the piano.
"I want to see for myself." And with that, he launched into an exercise with so much force Violet jumped. This just got exponentially creepier, she thought and prayed the boys wouldn't take all day on their errand. She would feel much safer knowing they were just a blood-curdling scream away.
The rest of the lesson passed quickly and Violet was able to keep Edward's attention away from his bizarre choice of music. She was packing up her music when something caught her attention outside the window in the same exact spot as the flash last night. Without thinking she sat back down and grabbed her iPhone but instead of going to the metronome, she opened the camera app, turned on the forward-facing lens, and set it to record a video. By carefully placing it on the music stand at just the right angle she had a perfect view of whoever was lurking out there.
She played a piece her fingers instinctively knew and focused on what the camera was recording. At first, she saw nothing. After maybe a minute a man with a mop of unruly red hair peeked out from behind a brick pillar. As she played he became bolder and stood in full view, watching her back as she played. The strange man remained there for several minutes and then disappeared. Violet continued to play a little to see if he would return but he did not so she stopped the camera, put her things together as best she could with wildly shaking hands, and quickly left the ballroom to find the boys. I hope John bought enough to share, she thought to herself. He's not the only one who needs a drink tonight!