a continuation of the last two chapters…

Unusual Habits 3

Scene three…

No surprise, is a building near London, a convent beyond a white gate…

All arches and crosses, tiled roofs, stained glass windows, and a door, where the five knock and wait.

The tension is rising, all five are aware of the news of the recent jailbreak,

to the great consternation of Holmes and the Doctor…there are new, urgent actions to take…

The carriage of Yarders has left for the city, with tasks which Lestrade has set out…

Discreet background checks on each heiresses movements and contacts, all reasons to doubt,

then, also discreetly, all jail correspondence, to see what an heiress had penned

and sent to mad Elsie, and any who'd called, whether lawyer, ex-henchman or friend.

~0~

The sound of the harp-shaped door knocker resounds through the chambers within, a loud thud,

then light rapid footsteps increasing in volume are heard through the panelled oak wood.

The door opens slowly, in spite of the build up, there isn't the slightest of creaks,

a wizened, yet rosy-cheeked crone in a wimple, looks up at the party and speaks.

~0~

Rosy-cheeked crone—pray, what is your business? We get so few visitors here.

Perhaps some mulled wine, just to keep out the cold, while your purpose and plans become clear?

~0~

Lestrade (with his bowler hat raised)—my dear lady, we're sorry to thusly intrude.

We've questions to ask but are happy to start with your offered mulled wine interlude

~0~

They follow the rosy-cheeked crone down a hall, can hardly keep up with her pace

The corridor's hushed and high arched, lit with candles, a peaceful, benevolent space.

They note several other white wimple clad ladies who criss cross the echoing hall

their robes hide their feet, the appearance of gliding on castors amuses them all.

They pass by a figure in humbler attire, a pinafore dress, a thick veil,

her eyes are cast down as the visitors pass her, she's nervous, and modest and pale.

She curtsies demurely then scuttles away, a bible verse held in her hand.

~0~

Rosy-cheeked crone—that is Patience, our novice, I'm sure that you all understand

she's rarely seen men, she's a fragile young lady, and everything frightens her so.

She came with the saddest of backgrounds, an orphan, abandoned at birth in the snow,

then she spent many years in some cloistered establishment, hasn't been here very long.

She showed us impressive credentials, excelling in choral works and evensong

~0~

They all nod and smile at appropriate points, as the novice's virtues are praised,

the rosy-cheeked crone prattles on without stopping, Holmes listens with one eyebrow raised…

~0~

The head of the convent, a silver-haired lady, is waiting with warm, spiced mulled wine

~0~

Mrs H—I insist that you serve yourselves first, then of course you can ladle out mine.

~0~

A glance of approval from Holmes, Mrs Hudson is cautious, and careful and quick.

It pays to suspect even elderly nuns, to watch out for trap or a trick

~0~

Mulled wine is poured out, and the nuns having sipped , the five raise their cups and they drink.

~0~

Lestrade—we are looking for five missing girls…

(He stops, cannot talk, cannot think…)

~0~

Holmes (slow and sleepy)—the cups! Not the wine…

He slumps to the hard wooden floor…

and is vaguely aware that the doctor's there too, Mrs Hudson's beginning to snore

and Hopkins is out for the count on a chair, and their downfall is witnessed by three,

Two ladies who raise their mulled wine in a toast,

and a novice, who smiles happily…

~0~

To be continued…