Holmes and Watson End Peace: A Novel of Sherlock Holmes (7 page)

Interlude

“How is he, Lucy?”

“It's odd, his breathing is very shallow, just what I would expect, but still he keeps chattering away.”

“Poor old boy.”

“He's never been any trouble since he has been here, not like some I could name. When he first came in he seemed quite strong and alert. He ordered a newspaper every day, but now he hasn't looked at one in weeks and he doesn't ask about the world outside at all.”

“I think they call it now ‘locked-in'. He is living in the past completely.
”

“It might not be that bad for him then, he had an exciting life from all accounts. He lived with that detective, the famous one, you know?”

“What, Sherlock Holmes?”

“That's the man.”

“I didn't even know he was real, Lucy.”

“Oh Polly, if Dr Watson is real, it stands to reason that Sherlock Holmes must be real too, doesn't it? Well, doesn't it?”

“Yes, Miss know-it-all Pollett, whatever you say madam!”

“And I know something else too, Mrs don't-know-nothing Harrison.”

“Oh yes and what might that be? Don't tell me... I know, don't tell me... you have won Nurse of The Year?”

“Funny girl.”

“What then?”

“I have a date tomorrow night... and you don't.”

“Actually I don't want one and especially not with a Welsh doctor.
Dear me, Lucy, is that really the best you can do? And I hear his bedside manner is not all it's cracked up to be either!”

“Jealousy, jealousy...”

Chapter 8

“Sorry, Holmes, did I drop off again? You will be losing patience with me as you used to.”

“There is no fear of that, my dear fellow. I was certainly guilty in the past, but not on this occasion I assure you.”

“I probably tried your patience far too often, Holmes. So I don't rightly see I ever had any cause to complain... too much!”

“We complemented each other perfectly; our differences were never so marked as to come between our friendship.”

“No, it was fortunate that our interests, in some ways so different, never caused any form of isolation from each other. Although I could never quite understand your aversion to Rugby or cricket, two fine gentlemanly sports.”

“The implication being that fencing and boxing were not?”

“No, not at all, I hold both sports in high regard; I really enjoyed seeing the Italian fencer Ageliso Greco in action during that exhibition of fencing that we both attended. I even read the book that you insisted I read by Giuseppe Radaelli on the art of sabre fencing.”

“Yes, I recall your comments at the time, Watson. Long winded was one of your more charitable opinions.”

“I blame the translator, Holmes. I am positive it must been an absolutely riveting read in the original Italian.”

“Oh it was I assure you. One of the great textbooks of fencing.”

“I will take your word for it, my grasp of Italian was always a little on the weak side.”

“The ultimate in sport for me is the combat of one man against another. It is primal, honest and the excitement is always high. Team sports never engendered any such excitement in me; I reckoned them to be perfunctory and dull.”

“I cannot agree with you there. Rugby football is a thoroughly passionate sport, compelling, addictive and never failing to entertain.”

“I really should know better than to argue the point with an ex-player of the game, but argue I will. All too often the action is indistinguishable as are the players, owing to the mud which is liberally covering everything and everyone. The sport is predominantly staged in the winter leading to uncomfortable viewing conditions for the spectators; need I continue?”

“But you are determined to see only the negatives; the passion of the sport and the skill displayed far outweigh these negatives of yours. And I don't believe you have ever attended a Rugby football match so your views are made largely redundant.”

“I have never thrown myself off the Eiffel tower either, but all the same I know I would not enjoy the experience! As it happens, I have witnessed this turgid sport in action; a never to be repeated excursion to a Varsity match. Even cricket would have been a joy to watch compared with that particular event.”

“I hold the sport of cricket in the highest regard. Its values are a code you can live by. It enshrines duty and fair play and is recognised as such the world over. It is genteel, relaxing, intriguing and even you might say, beguiling in its hold over people.”

“For those people who feel able to devote days of their life to watching one match, then yes, beguiling it must be. For I suspect the vast majority of us it remains a game that is difficult to summon up any enthusiasm for, not to mention the required stamina to sit through an entire game. I understand your allegiance to the sport, given your nodding, as I recall, acquaintance with Doctor Grace. Ballarat was it not?”

“Yes, it was 1873 and I had thoughts of finding my fortune amongst the gold fields of Ballarat. The gold rush was all but over by that time, but I stayed on in the area with a cousin of mine. He was a keen cricketer and was instrumental in bringing W G Grace's team to Ballarat to play against twenty-two men culled from the surrounding area, himself included. The match took place as the New Year began.”

“I would imagine that was one of the earliest tours to Australia from these isles?”

“There had been two earlier, but the 1873/74 tour was the best organised to that point. The Eastern Oval was a lovely ground, Holmes. Dr Grace declared it was the most English of Australian cricket grounds.”

“For its rainfall?!”

“No, for its tranquility and appearance. Grace scored a century, that's a sight I have never forgotten. My only regret is that I was not invited to play. Tell me, Holmes, did you never partake in simple game playing when a child, with bat or ball?”

“With whom, Watson? Mycroft being seven years my senior did not in any way allow for game playing between us; there was always a gulf between us. My father had no time for instilling any love of sports in us, his main pastime was himself and although he and Mycroft sided together, he only tolerated his younger son. There was no love from that quarter, on either side. My mother encouraged us in the finer arts; she extolled the virtues of learning and of art, in particular, painting. She was of course related to the French artist, Vernet and art in the blood in her case revealed itself in her gentle demeanour. I never kept up my art studies to any extent, but you may recall that I was able to identify the artists whose works were displayed in Baskerville Hall.”

“I was going to say I feel sorry for you, but I realise you would not wish that. There should have been no reason to suppose that our sporting loyalties would in any way coincide. Although I think we always agreed on our complete indifference to Association football.”

“Yes we did. Association football always seemed determined to parade the worst aspects of our society. The sport encourages partisan crowds to the point of tribalism and the situation will not remain a constant, it can only worsen.”

“I agree, but I am always baffled why this particular sport should attract such tribalism. Why do some men feel this need to belong and have strong allegiances to the teams of their choice?”

“I have no answer to that, Watson. It is a mystery I cannot solve nor would I have wasted my time in attempting to solve it.”

“Fortunately you had no great contact with amateur or professional sport in your career, Holmes.”

“No, it rarely featured in any cases save that of Godfrey Staunton and Cyril Overton.”

“And Bob Ferguson.”

“Ah, but although Ferguson was one of your mud-splattered former Rugby colleagues, sport played no part in the affair of the ‘Sussex Vampire.”

“I have to say that your sporting skills in both fencing and boxing were at times a great help to you.”

“They certainly saved me the odd beating and were instrumental in the taking of a few villains. Physically, I believe, I was underestimated by a few opponents. My frame did not speak of great strength to them. Slogging ruffians one and all, Watson, slogging ruffians.”

“As our friend Mr Jack Woodley found out.”

“Now there was a man who needed to be taught a lesson and I am glad I was on hand to administer it.”

“I am positive he enjoyed his ride home in the cart!”

“An evil man too, he would have stopped at nothing to achieve his aims, not that we were ever strangers to such men.”

“Indeed not, Holmes. Baron Gruner, Dr Roylott, Milverton and so many more who had no moral fibre whatsoever. I wondered if they were even aware they were committing crimes.”

“They were, my friend. We might reckon them to be mad compared with lives such as our own, but they were not in any way insane. Greedy yes, wicked yes, but men who knew exactly what they were doing. I, for one never tired of bringing them to justice or seeing justice overtake them, whatever form that justice took.”

“You say that, Holmes, but in the end you did get tired of doing so.”

“Nay, not tired of what I was doing, but more in the way of doubting how could I continue to go about it. I felt my powers were on the wane and my imperfections and increasing fallibility would certainly harm my career. What could be more natural then to bring an end to my activities? Not that I was idle in my years of retirement as you know. I was able to keep myself busy with occasional cases that I was consulted on and then as we recalled earlier I was pressed into service at the behest of Mycroft and was re-born as Altamont.”

“You don't feel that you retired too early then?”

“No, I have never entertained the thought, I just moved on to a different life. A life of bees, contemplation and solitude, a world away from your own retirement years.”

“Which were rather less in number then yours. I was sixty-five before I had an inkling of retiring, but then perhaps doctoring is more of a calling than being a detective.”

“I have no doubts, Watson.”

“It is only the last year when I have felt truly alone. It is not a state I have in any way enjoyed. I have never been a solitary animal and the lack of company has been hard to bear for me.”

“I do have a certain amount of guilt over that; I have not been in touch as often as I sometimes could or should have been.”

“There is no need to reproach yourself, no need at all. I am equally to blame if it comes to that. After all, we both had our own lives to lead.”

“I am glad I have the opportunity to be here now with you, Watson.”

“The opportunity? You make it sound like you have been given permission to be here.”

“I am sorry, Watson, but that was not quite my meaning. I apologise for my poor choice of word.”

“Apology accepted with thanks. I am overjoyed to see you; it has been too long my friend.”

“Indeed it has.”

“Do you have regrets, Holmes?”

“Of what kind?”

“Well, of any kind, professional, personal?”

“Do you think I should have?”

“It's not about what I think. It's a fairly simple question after all, surely?”

“I made mistakes in my life, Watson, you know of some of them. I made some bad decisions; I took some wrong turnings, but regrets? Do you know, I don't really know whether I do or not. And yes, it is a fairly simple question, but I am having trouble coming up with an equally simple answer.”

“I didn't necessarily expect a simple answer from you, Holmes!”

“That appears to be just as well, Watson. If you push me I think I would say, no I have no regrets. I have lived my life in the manner I wished to and I cannot count any setbacks as causing me regret. I have no recourse, but to stand by all the decisions I made because they all came from me and were a part of me. Besides, what good can come from regretting?”

“Most likely, none at all, but that does not mean we cannot feel it.”

“And yourself, Watson, do you have regrets?”

“I do wish that those who loved me had been granted longer with me and I with them. My personal happiness always seemed to be a temporary state. Contentment I always had, but true happiness was at best transitory and often out of reach. Professionally, my regrets were few. The Afghan war rather interrupted my medical career as I envisaged it and it was hard to settle back down to my former life when I returned home, hence my drifting aimlessly for a while. In a modest way I achieved what I felt able to achieve. Pooling my resources with you gave me an extra dimension to my life and of course set me on a writing career which surprised me immensely.”

“On the whole you acquitted yourself well. My own attempts were little more than slavish imitations of your own style and I have to confess I did not measure up.”

“If we are talking about real regrets then there is one above all others.”

“Yes, I suspect there would be and I believe I know what it is.”

“In your view, then, what is it?”

“Elementary, Watson, you wished you had been a father.”

“Precisely so, Holmes. Useless of course to dwell on it now, but my life would have been far more complete had I had children.”

“Most men would like to see their line carried on I believe.”

“But that's not it, Holmes, do you not see? I do not care one pennyworth about my line being carried on as you put it. It comes down to love, pure and simple. They joy of having children and bringing them up and nurturing them would have been the reward in itself. The happy childhood that I enjoyed, I would have been delighted to re-create with offspring of my own. But as I say it does no good to dwell on it, I cannot turn back the pages of time.”

“Would that we could, Watson, would that we could. How are you feeling my friend?”

“Tired, so very tired. And another feeling which seems at odds with perhaps how I should be feeling.”

“What feeling is that?”

“Exhilaration. Do you think that strange?”

“I think the memories we have discussed tonight would have had the effect of focusing your mind on happier times. In a way you are re-living those times tonight so I don't see a feeling of exhilaration in any way strange. A little unexpected maybe, but not strange.”

“Still, life cannot be undone. The life I have lived is the life I have lived. Even the largest of regrets cannot change that. I just wish it didn't have to end so soon.”