Of course he’d just be sitting there; sipping tea, like none of this even mattered to him. He even had a newspaper draped over his knee. Sherlock’s brother always tried to persuade the world of his disinterest; it always irked me. “Mycroft,” I started, but he raised a hand and shushed me silently, he was reading something on his phone. I surged forward, ready to make his phone feel the pain that my phone had been through when Mycroft put his tea cup down with a resolute clink. “He’s sent further instructions.” I shook my head and blinked, trying to figure it all out, it was just too much, all this. Never before had I ever felt like I had cobwebs stuffed between my ears.
“What did he say?” Irene slinked over to Mycroft and eased onto the arm of his chair. Mycroft leaned uncomfortably away, but Irene simply leaned over him more to look at his phone, cupping Mycroft’s hand in her own. “Uh, here, just take it.” For the first time ever, the Queen looked unnerved by Irene’s presence so close to his own. A mirthless smile crossed my face as I watched Mycroft squirm uncomfortably. “He wants us to go where?”
“Why in the world are we to go to-?”
“I don’t know, maybe another clue?”
They were ignoring me, and for the moment, that was okay. The adrenaline was wearing off; he wasn’t here in this small flat. He wasn’t here. My heart dropped and my vision grew dull and then quickly started to grey. My knees buckled and I remember thinking to myself: ‘oh Lord, I’m fainting’ and then I did.
I woke up moments later with my back against the sofa where I had fallen, a blanket over my shoulders, and Mycroft looking over me with yet another cup of tea in his hands. “Took a bad turn, a bit much for you?” When I didn’t respond, he went on. “not that I blame you, this is a whole lot to take in for someone such as yourself.” Did no one remember that I was a doctor and had had advanced training? In the normal world I was considered intelligent. I couldn’t change them; I would never be able to make them see that I was intelligent. Actually I was beginning to doubt it myself too. To my surprise, Mycroft lowered himself to sit across from me on the floor. It was like watching the Queen of England lay on a second hand matress. “So, he contacted you.”
“He sent me a message first. About a month ago.” Mycroft answered. It made the pit of my stomach fall like lead and just lay there. I felt like a helpless baby being suffocated by his mother. “Oh.” My tiny voice managed to squeeze out. “But that was because he wanted to have clearance. He hasn’t talked to me much since. That was the first text to me in weeks.” Mycroft quickly covered, looking a tiny bit flustered but way of adjusting his tea cup on the saucer. Who the hell still used saucers…?
“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?”
Mycroft blinked. “That …woman,” he spat “didn’t tell you what was going on?” more statement than question. “Very well, after Sherlock did that little stunt, we all fell for it. I suppose each of us had a shrapnel of hope that refused to budge, but I felt as though I had finally managed to smother that dreadfully useless feeling when I received a very strange text. I finally figured out that it was from Sherlock, but I didn’t quite believe it at first. He proved it to me with a picture.” Mycroft flipped through his phone until the image popped up and he showed it to me. I stole his phone with the quickness of a beggar finding a loaf of bread hanging from someone’s bag. I stared at it, looking for any reason that it was fake. “Are you’re sure that-“
“Yes, it’s real, I had it tested.” Mycroft held his hand out for his phone and I reluctantly handed it back. “You were saying…?”
“As I was saying, he asked for security clearance, said he needed it, but wouldn’t tell me why. I gave it to him and he didn’t speak to me for several weeks. About a month ago he texted me again and told me to come here on this date, so I did. Irene had the same message, but was told to get you. I think she’s had some more correspondence with him since then, but she’s not one to share…”
He pouted like someone told him there would be no more tea for the day. I felt remarkably similar to that actually. No more tea. “And just a few moments ago, before you, fainted,” Mycroft glanced at me and I stared furiously at the corner molding on the floor. “he texted and said to go to this museum and wait. Irene is there now, we’re to meet her up, and we have about an hour before the deadline. Plenty of time, I assure you.” He added as I leapt to my feet and threw off my blanket.
We were in the car shortly and heading to this museum that no one had bothered telling me the location of. I was left to my thoughts once more and they weren’t the company that I preferred. This could all be one big hoax. Someone could be playing with them all, twisting their hearts around. Why? I wouldn’t know now would I? I’m not these people, these horrible, sick people that play games with lives. It’s all a game to them. I stared at Mycroft in disgust, horrible creatures.
In no time at all we were at the museum and through the doors and sitting on a bench just inside, staring at the glass windows. Nothing stretched on forever… I couldn’t take it anymore, Irene picking her nails, Mycroft tapping his fingers on the arm rest. I stood up and shuffled off to walk around. “I won’t go far.” I promised, but they didn’t seem to hear. I don’t know how long I walked or stared, or read about pieces of history and art that I really didn’t care about right now, but it was just starting to feel like time to head back when a hand tapped my shoulder and I turned and...
To be continued.... in part five
