章節 3: The Arrival
November 1st was one of the very few days when Christine could afford to give herself some time to relax. Early last month, she had completed the last chapter of the series she was writing, meaning that she would have at least 1 month of free time to spare. After enjoying her breakfast, Christine made her way to the living room on the second floor, exposing her skin to the sunlight that was coming in through the windows. She sat down on the couch, occupying herself with a novel.
After long hours of reading, Christine stood up to stretch her muscles, just to see a man across the street. He was wearing a black coat, a neat mustache under his nose. His light brown hair cut short; with a fit body shape. Without a word, he made his way towards the entrance of 221 Baker Street.
Just one of Mrs. Hudson's friends, I suppose. With this thought, Christine started making her way back to the couch. However, no sound of the doorbell could be heard. Curious, she softened her steps and made her way to the top of the stairs, her ears sharp. It was the sound of keys turning the lock naturally without a moment's hesitation, followed by the soft thud of the door closing. The man-made his way towards the staircase, stopping at the bottom.
Christine could imagine the man looking up at the roof. Shortly, Mrs. Hudson's door opened. The man cleared his throat uncomfortably, entering the room.
He might be Mrs. Hudson's relative, I suppose. With this thought, Christine picked up her book again. However, the next sound she heard was the loud bang of ceramic plates landing on the table, followed by the slightly loud scolding from Mrs. Hudson.
"...One phone call, John! That was all I needed! After all these years and incidents we had gone through!"
Christine's mind went blank for a few seconds but immediately knew who the man was - the previous tenant of the unit on the third floor. According to Mrs. Hudson, he used to be a couple with the tenant from 221B, so she had always seen him as a son in law, and was very annoyed with what he had done in the last 2 years.
However, Christine had realized one thing - after Mrs. Hudson had had a chat with him, they would likely come up to the second floor to review some of the memories. But after 2 years of settling here, some of the furniture had been moved. At least the tiny space in front of the window had been completely turned into her personal spot.
Christine closed her eyes, desperate to remember the original setup of the room, and started moving the furniture immediately. She made her way to the window softly and pushed the sofa back to the entrance of the living room. After that, she removed the small glass table and shoved the books into a concealed corner. Last, she placed the music sheets back to their stand and returned the utensils back to the kitchen.
She glanced at the dining table that was filled with scientific equipment. Luckily, she had listened to Mrs. Hudson and left it as it was 2 years ago. Otherwise, it would be impossible to put it back exactly as it was in 5 minutes' time and make absolutely no noise at all.
Christine finished cleaning the plates and put them back into the cupboard. The muffled sound of footsteps could be heard from the stairs.
She observed her surroundings. Without a single second of hesitation, she tip-toed into the bathroom, remembering to shut the wooden door as softly as she could.
The footsteps stopped abruptly at the entrance of the living room, the guest didn't advance forward. Christine guessed that he was probably thinking back on the days. She secretly prayed that his memory wasn't very precise and clear.
It seemed like her prayer had worked, even Mrs. Hudson, who soon arrived at the living room didn't point anything out. She sighed and thought back sadly, "I could never let myself rent this out again. He never allowed me to clean this room."
"Yes, I know," the guest replied quickly as if to stop the memories from flooding back in.
Christine shifted her angle slightly, watching the reflection of the mirror. The guest stared at the equipment on the table, his face grim. He was surrounded by memories that he didn't realize the existence of the third person in the room.
"Why now? What made you change your mind?" Mrs. Hudson's question pulled him straight out of his daze.
The guest shook his head, holding his hands nervously, and turned around to face Mrs. Hudson. "I have something that I have to tell you."
Christine pulled out her phone immediately and plugged in the earphones. She switched on the music to its maximum and shoved them into her ears, avoiding the conversation she was about to hear.
But it wasn't long before she heard the guest's shout of annoyance. "I am not gay!"
Christine hesitated but pulled out one of her earphones.
"I know you're not." Mrs. Hudson replied positively, but Christine could sense a hint of creepiness in it. "If you are just purely gay, you won't fall in love with a woman." Christine saw the guest's shoulders slouch in defeat, speechless of Mrs. Hudson's way of thinking.
"Now, who is this lucky woman?" Mrs. Hudson questioned, "Who was lucky enough to catch the eyes of Dr. Watson?"
"Mary Morstan," his voice became softer. "She has blonde hair, with a beautiful face and a bright personality. An ordinary person," he stressed every syllable of the last sentence.
"Very beautiful?" Mrs. Hudson's focus was way different, "when is the proposal?"
"Tonight," he replied nervously, "I booked a table at the restaurant on Marylebone Street."
"Oh wow!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed.
Christine curled her lips and placed the earphone back into her ear, leaning against the wall and enjoying the blasting tune. It wasn't until she heard the food steps going down the stair that she came out from the bathroom. Without a sound, she walked towards the window and glanced down.
Mrs. Hudson held onto the guest's hand for quite a while, babbling about something, only releasing when the guest glanced at his watch several times. She said goodbye, but continue to follow the figure, until it had disappeared into the train station. She sighed and went back inside.
"I'm sorry that I heard your conversation," Christine had already left the living room, "I just thought you guys needed some time alone, so I hid in the bathroom."
It took Mrs. Hudson quite a few seconds to register the whole sentence.
"Oh! Don't worry about it. John wouldn't mind at all. If Sherlock was here, he wouldn't mind either. It's usually him who didn't like people judging him." It was as if the guest had untied a knot in Mrs. Hudson's heart, she had started to talk about the previous tenant that was living in 221B. For the first time since Christine got here, Mrs. Hudson had had the courage of telling the story.
"John was an army doctor in Afghanistan. He returned to England not long ago, but never managed to adapt to normal life all that well. It wasn't until his colleague introduced him to Sherlock that he had started to live life again." At dinner time, Mrs. Hudson started telling the memories to Christine passionately. "Although everybody thought Sherlock was just trouble to John, they really do get along. However, they're still not together yet even though Sherlock died"
Christine raised her eyebrows. After hearing the conversation this afternoon, she had known that all of this was just Mrs. Hudson's lovely theory. But she didn't want to spoil her moment.
"Sherlock was a good man, he helped me to escape from my ex-husband, that psycho that killed several people for the sake of drugs. That was why when I heard he was looking for a flat, I informed him straight away," reliving the scene plenty of years ago. "But at that time he was having some financial difficulties, due to the fact that he wanted to be independent from his brother Mycroft Holmes, a bit like you when you first arrived."
Christine smiled slightly but didn't continue the conversation. She went to the cupboard and opened the bottle of red wine that Mrs. Hudson had kindly given to her.
"It's still fairly early, but I guess a few glasses won't hurt." Mrs. Hudson gulped silently, handing over 2 wine glasses. "Sherlock John used to hide my wine secretly, saying that they're helping me to quit, but Sherlock never really managed to quit smoking himself."
Mrs. Hudson whined, looking slightly depressed. Christine poured a glass and placed it in front of Mrs. Hudson and the liquid was gone in a flash.
This had Christine raise her eyebrows again. Mrs. Hudson's addiction was worse than she thought, maybe they had done the right thing of hiding them.
"Sherlock didn't have a good temper at all, especially when he didn't have any cases, he would become very impatient. He never thought of others, saying what he wanted. Sometimes I just couldn't stand him anymore and wanted to shoo him out with a broom." Mrs. Hudson placed the wine glass on the table with a bang, as if trying to smash it.
Christine silently traced her eyes from Mrs. Hudson's fingers to her eyelids. If she poured the glass full again, it would be gone again with the minute. With this thought, she only filled the glass a quarter full, earning a glare from the landlady. But Christine just silently filled up her glass and returned the cork onto the bottle.
"If John was like you, Sherlock would've quit smoking a lot sooner," after several tries of getting the cork out but failing, Mrs.s Hudson sighed and returned to her seat, staring at Christine's wine glass.
"Unfortunately, only Mycroft had the ability to accomplish this, that man who always wears a suit and holds a black umbrella. However, he only focused on his game of power, never really caring for his younger brother," expressing her annoyance, Mrs. Hudson raised up her wine glass again, ready to have another huge gulp, just to place the empty glass on the table again awkwardly.
"I heard that for the sake of wiping out a black association, he decided to tell his younger brother's secrets to a bad guy called Jim Moriarty. This man destroyed everything that Sherlock ever had, forcing him to jump off the building," Mrs. Hudson started to cry out loud.
Reluctantly, Christine poured one-third of her wine into Mrs. Hudson's glass. She took a full gulp, finally calming down.
"Let's not talk about him. Although Sherlock could be as cold as his brother," Mrs. Hudson sighed, "but he was incredibly intelligent, understanding all the strange cases in the glance of an eye. He liked to show off, wanting to earn praise."
"But to me, he was just a kid," Mrs. Hudson smiled warmly at the memory. "To be honest, John was in some way his babysitter."
Christine replied with a soundless grin, pouring half of the red liquid into the land lady's glass. She taps the glass happily and took another gulp, the glass was empty again.
Another raise of the brows, Christine took a peek at the wine bottle that was half full, trying to think of a place to hide the wine. But there was no such place. Mrs. Hudson cleans the house weekly, she would find it for sure. As for the second floor, it was already as messy and crowded as it could be, she couldn't guarantee that adding another bottle up there would not result in an accident.
"About John, I really offer my sympathy to him. He was injured while being in the army and had to use a cane. Those idiot doctors didn't know how to cure him, but Sherlock only used one night to make him forget that cane completely," Mrs. Hudson started laughing, but it quickly disappeared from her face.
"But before he even have the chance to confess to Sherlock, Sherlock had left. He couldn't live in this unit that was filled up with memories, so he had moved out. It had been two years, he had finally walked out from the shadows and started a new life. I guess I should congratulate him," Mrs. Hudson started sobbing. Christine held her hands and poured the remaining red wine into her glass. But this time, she didn't drink it immediately.
"However, I always felt like Sherlock didn't die. He was probably living somewhere. This naughty kid, if he comes back one day just to find his beloved doctor went away with some other woman, how excruciating would it be?" Mrs. Hudson started crying loudly, pouring the wine into her mouth.
Christine watched Mrs. Hudson's tearless eyes and shook her head. She opened the wine bottle. Mrs. Hudson stared at her expectantly. Christine turned around, made her way to the sink, and poured the remaining liquid down the drain.
"No! Christine!" Mrs. Hudson cried loudly and rushed towards the sink, but could only watch the delicious red liquid flowing down the drain.
"Too much alcohol is no good for you, Mrs. Hudson," Christine stated with a grin.
"This is wasting! You are wasting precious goods!" Mrs. Hudson shouted at Christine angrily.
"Things cannot be reversed anymore," Christine shrugged.
"Then you mush be punished!" Mrs. Hudson slammed the table, pointing towards the door.
Christine stared at Mrs. Hudson with disbelief and revealed a slightly twisted smile. She turned around and exited the room.
Not for a second Christine had set her eyes on the dinner on the table, Mrs. Hudson couldn't help but feel defeated. Especially when Christine could cook more food than her, the feeling of defeat just became heavier.
But Christine didn't go look for snacks. After all, everything edible in this house was bought by Mrs. Hudson. Although she had bought some of them, Mrs. Hudson didn't really extend the topic, but if she said this is the punishment, she should accept it.
After all, the game could only continue if you obey the rules.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票