Nooo, why do holidays always seem to slip by so fast. It feels like I'm running out of week to quickly. Someone slow it down for me.

Chapter 6

The inside of the pub was dark after the brightness of the summer day and Sherlock had to duck his head to avoid banging it on the low lintel of the ancient door way.

There were a few people either drinking or eating in the bar area and a door was open to the beer garden beyond.

'Afternoon squire, what can I get you?'

Sherlock glanced at the pumps and ordered up a glass of wine for Molly and pint of "Dark Delight" from the list of local ales.

Molly perched on a stool whilst the drinks were being poured and eventually settled on a Brie and Cranberry sandwich with a side portion of chips. She got the latter because Sherlock declined any food but she knew if she got the chips he'd pick at them subconsciously.

After the food had been ordered Sherlock made some enquiries about the village and asked the barman how long he'd lived in the local area.

'Oh, I'm a newcomer as far as folk round here are concerned. I took up the pub...ooo..twenty eight years ago now. There were a lot more regulars in the village then; now it mainly holiday folk like yourselves. But if it's history you're after then you're in luck. Billy Smith at the end o' the bar there has lived here man and boy. He's getting on for eighty now but he'll answer your questions for the price of a pint...ain't that right Billy?'

The wiry old man looked up from his paper and frowned at the barman. 'What's that? What you sayin' about me?'

'I told this couple here that you know the history of this place. You mind talking to them?'

'Naw I dunt mind at all. It'll pass the time.'

Sherlock picked up his pint, 'drink?'

The old man smiled, wrinkles on wrinkles creasing up his leathery face. 'Don't mind if I do. Same again Jim. So what do you want to know?'

Sherlock and Molly moved to sit next to him on the stools situated around the edge of the bar and when Sherlock recounted their interest in Bessie's murder the old man's face lit up.

'Oh now Bessie would have been my great aunt 'ad she lived. My gran was her sister. She was never forgot you know. Nan used to talk about her right up til the end.'

'And who did your grandmother think killed her?'

'Well, many thought as it was Ben Hawkins who'd been sweet on her. Nan said he was ever so cut up when she broke up with him. He figured there was someone else in the picture but apparently Bessie denied it. My gran reckoned he was right though and it was this other fella what killed her. She always said Bessie was with child but it was never proved if she was or not. Wont no autopsies carried out in them days.'

'So who was the other man?'

'That's the question ain't it. Bessie never said and gran never knew. She couldn't understand why Bessie wouldn't at least have told her family especially if she wor pregnant. It would have been a scandal maybe but the lad would have bin made to do right by her. That was just ow it wor back then.'

Sherlock asked Billy a few more questions but there wasn't a lot more he could tell them about Bessie. He gave them some of the history of the Milton's who had owned the lodge house but the last heir had been killed in the Great War and the house had been sold soon after his father's death.

When the food was brought out Molly and Sherlock's moved themselves into the beer garden so they could enjoy the sun shine and talk in peace. Molly smiled to herself as she saw Sherlock absent mindedly eating the chips as he talked about their afternoon adventures.

'Just two more places to visit. I want to check the distance between here and the village where her ex was staying and then the place where her body was found.'

'Do you think you'll be able to solve it?'

Sherlock snorted in disbelief. 'Molly, I solved it in the museum. Surely you know what happened.'

'Oh...no, at least...it was probably her new boyfriend but we have no idea who that is.'

He chuckled. 'You see but you do not observe. There's only one man it could have been. I thought it was obvious. Who else would deny it...kill her for the pregnancy and get away with it? Well, I'll give you a little more time to figure it out. Are you not finished with your food yet?'

'No, I'm not and don't rush me. I'm enjoying my wine and the food is delicious. You should have had something.'

He rolled his eyes but went to order another half pint whilst he was waiting for her.

The walk back to the car was as pleasant as the walk to the village. Once again Molly was arm in arm with Sherlock and she loved how easy it all felt, she wished it could be like this all the time, this feeling of companionship and closeness. In London she often just felt like a useful tool in his life rather than a friend and given their conversation earlier she challenged him on it.

'I'll be honest Molly. When I first met you that is all that you were, a tool, an asset. In fairness that's all most people were to me. I never really took the time to see the person beyond their usefulness to me. I'd learnt to keep people at arm's length because so few people ever seemed to understand me and relate to me; or I to them.'

'It was living with John that made me see how valuable friendship was and I'm glad because now my life is richer and the more enjoyable for it. After all who would have thought we'd be on holiday together and enjoying each other's company in this way two or three years ago.'

Just as he had that morning he found himself wanting to say more, to tell her how he really felt, but he was way out of his depth and worried that he would say the wrong thing. Maybe he was destined to be alone, he was mad thinking that he should have a relationship. It was just the sun, the hot weather, spending time with Molly on her own. But God she looked perfect in that sundress. Something which suited her small frame for once. Her shoulders were bare and he found his mouth almost watering at the thought of tasting her skin, letting his tongue slide over her collarbone and kiss his way up her slim neck.

His thoughts were interrupted when Molly pointed to the car and started to extract her arm from his. 'Do you want to drive or shall I?'

He thought maybe if he drove it would keep his mind off Molly's body but he was wrong. His eye kept getting snagged by her bare legs. She kicked off her shoes in the car and he imagined kissing his way up from her ankle to her...God what was wrong with him!

His confused emotions made him snappy and grumpy and he found himself berating Molly for taking to long tapping in the address to the sat nav.

'OK, OK keep your hair on, what's got you so grumpy all of a sudden?'

He wanted to snap that it was her incompetence but he found he couldn't do it. For one it would be grossly unfair and second he didn't want to see the hurt look in her eyes. Instead he took a deep breath and made some comment about the heat.

Their expedition to the village where the aunt and uncle had stayed proved to Sherlock that herThe ex-boyfriend was indeed innocent just as he had expected. Even if he had run the whole way it would have been too much, especially given that the body had been found almost a mile in the opposite direction from the village.

And it was there, where she had been found, that they finally ended up. The killer had obviously thrown her in the river hoping that her body would be washed out to sea but her skirts had caught on tree roots at the side of the riverbank and some children had come across her a day or so later.

Sherlock noticed how quiet Molly was as they sat on the bank of the river and looked out at the peaceful countryside. It seemed a complete juxtaposition to the death that had been found here. Sherlock felt the same comparison in Molly and in his own life. Here she was so happy and optimistic and yet her life was mired in such darkness and death. He wondered how she managed to always rise above it and not drown in its murky depths. Even now, he knew she was sad for a girl who had died so long ago when all he had felt was curiosity at the puzzle it gave him to solve.

As he looked over the water he felt Molly's gaze on him. It was something he was quite used to and something he was fond of. He hoped she never wanted to stop seeing him.

He glanced at her in return and saw her lips curve up into a smile which made him want to smile in return, how did she always do that. He remembered all their shared looks and smiles as she had helped him solve crimes that day soon after his return and how irritated he had felt that she couldn't spend time with him more often. She had been with that idiot Tom then and he had backed off, hoping in some ways that this man was someone who deserved his Molly. He hadn't been; he'd been an idiot.

'Go on then smart arse, tell me who did it.'

He leant back on his elbows in the grass and saw Molly lie on her side next to him as she listened.

'It was Charles Milton Jnr son of Lord Milton of Milton House. Billy was probably right in that Bessie was pregnant but it was Charles's child and not her fiancés so she broke it off with him. If it had belonged to someone poorer or less able to look after her she would have stuck with Ben and made him think it was his. She probably told Charles that night. He was a regular at the pub and his house was in the same direction as Bessie's. He could have waited, walked her home. It's probably how the affair started. Anyway, that night she probably told him about the baby and he lost it. His father would have been furious at getting a local girl knocked up. He was known for having a temper. The local policeman knew that and wanted to interview him but Lord Milton wouldn't allow it. The police didn't hold as much sway back then particularly in a small community like this...the local nobility could deny their requests.

'I suspect that Charles Jnr told his father and he arranged for his son to join the army as an officer soon after. They also paid for Bessie's gravestone, something her family would never have been able to afford, not with that level of engraving on it. So there we are...no proof as such but I'm satisfied in my own mind.'

Molly shook her head. 'You always, always amaze me Sherlock.'

He turned his head to hers, seeing her eyes wide with love for him and found himself leaning in to kiss her.

Not sure this classes as a cliff hanger but I'll go with it. Is it time for a kiss or not?