I am not lonely [Mystrade]

CHAPTER 1974 : Yeats

The weather was surprisingly chilly for the time of the year Mycroft  surprised himself to think as he was making his way to the other side of  the garden in this mid-august morning. He was holding his daughter by  the hand, making her jump over the puddles on the alley.

He  grabbed a small key in the inside pocket of his jacket and unlocked the  metallic door of his greenhouse. The building was one of the newest  addition to his mansion, having been built when the garden had been  refurbished during last spring. He always had dreamt of having such a  space to indulge one of his secret passion, gardening. When he was still  a child, he could spend hours and hours locked up in Musgrave's  greenhouse, fascinated by all the plants and flowers the gardener was  growing out there. Adult, he had always promised himself that he would  get one for himself but never had taken time to put such a plan into  action until Greg had discovered one of his childhood's notebook where  he had written about ll what he would like to grow in his own garden.  The detective had forced him to put his dream into action, knowing that  in the end, it would make the elder Holmes happier than he would ever  say.

During the last few months, the politician had started  growing a large variety of plants and flowers and the place was starting  to look rather like he always had imagined it, bushy and green with  colourful bits and pieces all over the place. Tall cactuses he had had  delivered from Mexico were guarding each side of the door like the  guards at the Palace. A long table was assuming most of the space in the  middle of the edifice. The official grabbed his daughter under the  armpit and sat her up on it between two empty flowerpots.

No one else  than the elder Holmes had the key to his sanctuary, and he wouldn't  usually allow anyone to join him in taking care of his plants but  exceptionally, he had invited Aelane to join him in an attempt to get  her interested in his passion, to share something with her. He didn't  always knew how to take the best care of his children and sometime  lacked the elementary knowledge every parent were supposed to have, but  he had found out that one of the best way to show your love to your  child was to share something you loved with them. Alden had had the  fencing and the piano, his sister will have the gardening to start with.

The  little girl was looking curiously to her father as he was taking his  jacket off and rolling up his sleeves. She was more used to see him in  formal, well organised and clean environment than in a bushy greenhouse  and all sorts of questions were crossing her mind but in the end she  decided that nothing bad could happen in such a pleasing environment, and she just waited for what was to come.

Mycroft  hanged his jacket to a hook near the door and got hold of a little  plant on one of the shelves. He brought it to his daughter and let the  little girl examine it. Emerging from the green and pink boat-shaped  bracts in the spring were the long-stemmed brilliant orange flowers of  the exotic plant.

"That's a bird of paradise." the elder Holmes explained learnedly. "It  will grow to four or five feet high as time pass if it is kept warm and  sunny. That's why they have to be grown in there and not outside. Do  you like them ?"

"What are this one ?" the little girl wondered after nodding enthusiastically.

"Pinwheel Rainbow plumeria." the official named it as he put back the first plant to its place and brought the plumeria's large pot to his daughter.

Aelane looked at the flowers in awe, fascinated  by the rich colours and the divine small. She had always liked flowers  but it had been a long time since she last had the chance to come face  to face with exotic plants as Britain wasn't famous for it. The plumeria  remembered her of the dok champa flowers that were cultivated in the gardens of the orphanage where she lived. Even if the flowers looked very different in shapes and colours, the smell was quite the same to her mind.