Prompt from W. Y. Traveller: Christmas pudding.
"No thank you, Mrs Hudson," Wiggins said politely. "We don't want more Christmas pudding."
"Are you sure?" Mrs Hudson questioned sceptically, still holding out the plate of pudding. It glistened richly on the plate, studded with dried fruits and iced on top, looking like it had descended directly from the dreams of sleeping children waiting for Christmas. She waved the plate enticingly, allowing the freshly baked aroma to drift under their noses.
Several Irregulars clapped their hands to their mouths. One looked faintly green. Wiggins swallowed heavily, face briefly betraying a grimace of discomfort before, with clear effort, he regained his polite demeanour. "Really, missus, we don't want any more. We'll just go now. Please tell Mr Holmes about the German man." With that, Wiggins chivvied the other Irregulars off the steps and onto the street, all of them disappearing into the crowds before Mrs Hudson could say a word.
She closed the door, shaking her head. Whatever was wrong with those boys that they didn't want her pudding, it wasn't her business. She'd just tell Mr Holmes their report and forget about it.
When Mr Holmes came home several hours later, however, she found it wasn't that easy. After delivering the Irregulars' report, she hovered in the doorway, unsure whether it was worth mentioning. It was too small a thing to be bothered with, surely, and yet weren't the small details always what Mr Holmes looked for?
Finally Mr Holmes ended her dilemma. "Mrs Hudson, it's bothering you that the Irregulars did not want any Christmas pudding?"
"It's just not right!" she burst out, too relieved that he had mentioned it to care how he had figured it out. She had long grown used to his deductions and how he seemed to know things without ever being told. "Young boys like that, I've seen enough to know they wouldn't get much food at home. Certainly nothing home cooked like mine! Why would they suddenly turn down my cooking?"
Mr Holmes surprised her with a laugh. "It's not your cooking that's the problem, my dear Madame. It's the pudding!"
"The pudding?" she asked confusedly. "What's wrong with pudding?"
"Nothing, except that it is the choice treat to give to Christmas carollers, especially for those who sing 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas'. Which so happened to be what my Irregulars were doing last night to track down Herr Gueller." Mr Holmes said. "I believe that after last night it will be a long time before my Irregulars eat any more pudding at all!"