In Sherlock's Shadow by Liz Hedgecock

Author:Liz Hedgecock [Hedgecock, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller, British Detective, Novel, Mystery, sherlock holmes, english, Dark, detective fiction, Victorian, Crime, london, Women's Fiction
Publisher: White Rhino Books
Published: 2019-05-06T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 25

Sherlock murmured as I gently moved his arm. ‘Whassa —’

‘Ssh,’ I whispered, kissing his shoulder. ‘I am going to the bathroom.’

I could not see what time it was, but from the movements downstairs, and the grey light through the gap in the curtains, I suspected it must be around seven. So much to do; and I still was not sure how to tackle it. I locked the bathroom door, leaned my forehead on the cool white tiles, and thought. The store opened at nine o’clock; but the shopgirls would be there earlier, titivating themselves and their domains for the public. If I got there for eight o’clock I guessed I would be able to catch Evie.

I would need money for dresses and accessories. Some of my own, simpler, more worn items would do; but my hairbrush, an expensive one, could not come with me. I looked down at the ring on my finger. It was slim, and plain gold; but inside the band was engraved Nell, from Sherlock. A pang shot through me at the thought of leaving it behind. I could not — the message it would send! Perhaps I could entrust it to Evie … but no, it was not fair to expect her to keep a secret like that. I shall think about it later. I turned the taps on to wash the problem away. Goodbye, running hot water. Back to carrying cans up and down stairs, I suspected, although hopefully as I would be a parlourmaid, that task would fall to someone else.

It’s a good thing Mother doesn’t know. She would laugh herself silly. Mother’s opinion of my housekeeping skills was low at best. ‘I pity the poor woman who has to depend on your service,’ she would have said, an amused gleam in her eye. I must write and tell her — what? Perhaps that I was going away for a while and would not be able to write or visit. I could ask her to tell people I was visiting Clara, on the south coast — no. I did not want people to lie for me.

But I would write letters. Once my appointment was confirmed, I would write and post letters. That would take care of it all.

Sherlock was dressing when I returned to the bedroom. ‘I want to return to Ealing and have a proper look at the garden,’ he said, attaching his braces. ‘Will you come, Nell?’

‘I have a few domestic things to do,’ I said.

‘Oh, domestic things…’ Sherlock sounded deflated. ‘I wish you would leave that to the servants.’

‘Someone has to run the place,’ I said mildly, walking over to kiss him. ‘Will you be out all day?’

‘Probably. Tell Martha I shan’t want lunch.’ He kissed me on the mouth, a kiss without thought, and left the room.

I touched where his lips had been. I wanted to remember it. I did not know how long it would have to last me. If you only knew, I whispered, and shook myself. Sentimentality would do no-one any good.

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