Jenny Smith-Holmes

Chapter 23: Time Flies

The next few weeks dad had gone on a small holiday before he John went on a trip for a case. But they wouldn't let me come so I stayed with Jessica, which was a lot of fun, but I was beginning to really miss dad John until they finally came home.

The night they came home, dad told me all about the case as a bedtime story, which I found really intriguing. I couldn't help but laugh when he told me what he had done to John, even though it was really horrible.

When I woke up a couple of months later, I was super excited because it was Saturday, and dad said that I could with on a non-murder case. It ended with us in an art gallery after we had recovered a painting called Falls of the Reichenbach.

I stood between dad and John as people took pictures of us. It ended up in a lot of papers but I didn't pay attention to it.

Dad ended up solving a lot of cases and started getting into the newspaper quite a few times over the next few months. Sometimes I would be with him and sometimes I wouldn't. They kept giving him useless gifts, and I thought that it was quite hilarious. Months kept passing and soon my birthday passed and I turned 7.

John was sitting on sofa as he read a paper, while dad stormed into the room in his pajamas and threw another paper onto a stack of them.

"'Boffin.' 'Boffin Sherlock Holmes.'" He said angrily.
"Everybody gets one." John said without looking up.
"One what?" Dad snapped.
"Tabloid nickname: 'SuBo'; 'Nasty Nick.' Shouldn't worry – I'll probably get one soon."
"Page five, column six, first sentence." Dad walked over to the fireplace and picked up the deerstalker and punched it angrily.
"Why is it always the hat photograph?"
"'Bachelor John Watson'?" John ignored dad.
"What sort of hat is it anyway?" And dad ignored John too.
"'Bachelor'? What the hell are they implying?"
"Is it a cap? Why has it got two fronts?" He moving the hat back and forth furiously. I sat and watched the both of them mumble to themselves because it was truly hilarious.
I did this until dad finally threw the hat, which I caught and started to investigate it.

"What do you mean, "more careful"?"
"I mean that isn't a deerstalker now; it's a Sherlock Holmes hat. I mean that you're not exactly a private detective anymore." He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "You're this far from famous."
"Oh, it'll pass." Dad sat in his chair and looked like he was going to his mind palace.
"It'd better pass. The press will turn, Sherlock. They always turn, and they'll turn on you." John sighed. Dad looked at John as he slowly lowered his hands.
"It really bothers you." He said
"What?" John looked over.
"What people say."
"Yes."
"About me? I don't understand – why would it upset you?" John looked at dad for a moment before he looked away.
"Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news."

I walked out of dad's/my room to see Mrs. Hudson making some tea,

"Oh, good morning dearie, the boys popped off for a case and Jessica's working. So I'm here." She smiled at me and I smiled back. I loved it when Mrs. Hudson took care of me. She would often tell me stories about when she was young, and they were so fascinating.

Soon enough they were home, John went to his room for the night and dad stayed in the living room with me as he played the violin. I recognised the tune of one of his compositions that he taught me. I went and grabbed my own violin and stood next to him by the window. The melody was soft and sad, and the way he played expressed a lot of emotion. I tried to copy his movement exactly before I looked out of the window. The song enveloped me as our bows moved in sync and it made me feel relaxed and calm for what seemed like hours. I'm not sure how long we actually played together, but I was really happy that I got to spend some time with him.