The Christmas Pudding Lie

by P. B. Phillips

  Holmes looks deep into her eyes, takes her hand and asks, “Indulge me please?”

  Anna doesn’t answer. She just gestures for him to lead the way.

  Back in the studio, Holmes prepares tea in short order. Anna feels a strange uneasiness. She wonders what’s up. She paces back and forth. Finally she alights on the oversized rattan settee with its overstuffed damask cushions. Holmes joins her on the settee. Anna's curiosity blurts out,

  “So what’s on your mind, Holmes?”

  Holmes bides his time. He ponders how best to broach the trip to Uncle Vanya’s. He decides to be direct. The slightest hint of subterfuge will surely backfire. He offers her a plate of truffles, “I find tea in Paris goes best with truffles.”

  Anna knows that she can’t allow the sweet things to cross her lips. She shakes her head no, “The tea is plenty.”

  Holmes gets up and moves in front of the fireplace. He stirs his teacup. He looks down at the wooden planks on the floor. He speaks directly but without looking at her so as not to frighten her.

  “Anna, how does a trip to Switzerland sound to you? We can take the sleeper train over and be there first thing in the morning.”

  Anna blurts out, “What are you crazy?”

  Sherlock bows his head even lower. A darker shade of red covers his face again.

  “Perhaps, maybe yes, but that’s no reason to miss out on Switzerland. And I might add by way of promoting this outing that I am one of Switzerland’s favorite sons. I want to take you to Uncle Vanya‘s.”

  Anna is taken aback with the whole idea. “You can’t be serious? You are! Uncle Vanya… Switzerland… tonight… I don‘t see how I can. It’s a marvelous idea but…”

  Sherlock stops her, “Remember our talk about growing old. One day you wake up and you find yourself on the other side of the moon. Up until that day, your life is filled with firsts, your first step, your first word, your first day at school, your first love and your first job. Then without warning there comes that dreaded day in everyone’s life when life is marked in terms of last, when we realize that our road is the proverbial dead end. Do you follow?”

  Anna extends her lower lip. She answers with trepidation, “You mean when your life becomes ‘The Last Chapter?’” She taps her left foot, her right foot.

  Sherlock moves across the room. He sits down close to her on the settee. He looks into her eyes as he always does and says, “Indeed! But even our ‘Last Chapter’ can be filled with firsts.”

  Anna looks curiously into his eyes, “First, like Switzerland?”

  Holmes inches closer, “Precisely!”

  Anna doesn’t speak. She just rattles her head no. She can’t help herself; she wants to know where Sherlock is going with this.

  Holmes answers, “Correct me if I am wrong but till now this trip has been about the last time you cross the country, the last time you see New York, the last time for London and tonight, you are ready to say good bye for the last time to Paris.

  But come the morning you can see Switzerland for the first time. At our age it is easy to get stuck on the Last Chapter. Anna, make this trip a first. I guarantee that you will not regret it.”

  Anna shakes her head in utter disbelief, “Why do I have the feeling that there is a hidden agenda here?”

  Holmes tries to speak in a reassuring tone, “Fair enough, there is. I feel certain that you will find answers to all your questions about Lady Banks in Switzerland.”

  Anna jumps off the settee setting the tray awry. Holmes saves it from falling. She walks quickly over to the corner windows that overlook the street. She has enjoyed her time in Paris without as much as a thought or word about Lady Banks. Hearing her name again Anna feels vulnerable. She can’t fathom what Holmes means about finding Lady Banks in Switzerland. And she is loath to go off in the dead of night in search of the ghost of Lady Banks. She trembles with the thought that this being, the sad Lady Banks, will forever haunt her.

  “Dear me, things are getting rather complicated. You know how I hate things that go boo in the night,” she stalls for time to reflect.

  Sherlock tries another approach, “Anna, you will kick yourself all the way back to the Pacific if you walk away from this first time!”

  Anna gulps. Her conspiratorial mind is out ahead of her. It warns, “Uncle Vanya, what more do you need to know? The Rooks are Russian spies. Get on the Bus, Gus, no need to be coy, Roy, make a new plan Sam. Get yourself free.’

  Holmes can almost feel the electric shocks sparking from Anna’s brain as it fires up. He knows that he can’t allow her to get lost in her inner turmoil. He needs to keep her present. But he can’t spook her, not before she knows the truth. He proceeds guardedly, walking towards her, he speaks in a tone of compassion, “I understand…”

  But before he can finish his thought Anna shocks him, “You know old man, you are absolutely right. There are many side roads yet to explore before we reach the Dead End. When do we leave?”

  She is in shock as well. But she has to know, one way or the other, ‘who these guys are.’ She’ll be damned if she goes back home without all the answers. She is tired of the mind games.

  Even Holmes, who is ready with a well-prepared litany of reasons for the trip, reels a bit at Anna’s lack of resistance. But he quickly takes the advantage lest she change her thinking,

  “Splendid, you will not regret it. This trip will really help you to see Lady Banks up close and personal. The train leaves 10:42 PM from Gare de l’ Est. We have time to pack some warm things. I’m sure that I have the perfect parka for the trip over. We can always raid Uncle Vanya’s wardrobe when we get there. For now you’ll need a warm coat.”

  Anna has yet to grasp that she is on her way. She is immobilized. All she can answer is, “Really?”

  Holmes moves quickly. He can’t allow her to escape into the Paris night. He grabs a wine colored parka with white faux fir trim at the collar and wrists. He offers it to her and answers,

  “Really…here this one has your name on it. It complements the blush in your cheeks.”

  He delves deeply into a chest of drawers. He pulls out a pair of red long john’s complete with rear panel. Avoiding her pecan brown eyes, he offers,

  “Here, you will need these too. What they lack in fashion they make up for in comfort. You’ll need them on the night train. And I’m sure that you will find them a good friend in the Alps.”

  All that Anna can say is, “So does this mean that we are going to Switzerland?”

  Holmes stops immediately and says, “Only if you want to.”

  Anna takes in a long breath. She holds it for what seems a very long time. She lets it out slowly. She shakes her head hoping to clear her thoughts. She grabs the parka, claps her hands and announces, “On y va?

  For himself, Holmes pulls out a worn brown bomber jacket with a matching vintage fleece lined pilot’s cap. He is already out the door. He motions her to follow, “No need to feel rushed.”

  Anna laughs as she enters the elevator, “Now why would I ever feel rushed?”

  Sherlock blushes knowing her tone is pure sarcasm.

  Her heart can’t find its normal rhythm. She is sure that the whole world can hear the pounding in her chest. She is still of two minds about this mystery ride in the black of night to snowy Switzerland. Sherlock anticipates her second thoughts.

  He tries to settle her, “Promise you will not bolt until you see the Alps. They dwarf all these sights. You will thank me I’m sure.”

  Mention of the Alps brings Anna’s thoughts back around. She tries to imagine the Alps up close and personal. She thinks that she could get to like this Holmes fellow. He sure knows how to live. But it is a daunting challenge to stay on the same page.

  Chapter Thirteen

  At Gare de L’Est, Anna is lost. She observes that Holmes hops about much like the white rabbit in Alice’s famed fable. She scurries trying to keep up.

  Anna calls to him, “Hey, Holmes, where are all these people going i
n the dead of night?”

  Holmes grabs her hand as she begins to fall behind, “It’s the start of the season.”

  With a few astute moves at a ticket window, Holmes announces, “We have the best seats on the train.”

  With disbelief, Anna stutters, “Really! On such short notice… how...?”

  Holmes escorts her to the train as it announces its last ‘all aboard’ in three languages, French, English and German. Holmes steps with typical elegance aboard the train. In his usual manner of gentle grace, he extends a hand down to Anna. She gestures that she can make it on her own. He just smiles at her independent streak and steps back.

  He answers her inquiry, “Perks of the trade, hotel pass, remember?”

  He leads the way to their first class compartments. Much to her surprise, relief and utter delight, it is a single sleeper. Holmes says, “I hope this will do. My cabin is just here, across the aisle. The facility is mid-way in the car. I’ll be in the club car just ahead, if you want a nightcap. Bon Nuit, Watson.”

  Anna answers, “Thank you, this is great. I’ll see you in the bar in fifteen.”

  Anna takes stock of the snug quarters. Though quite compact in size it is big on comfort. The deeply varnished cherry wood walls make for a splendid winter’s night cocoon. The burgundy velvet curtains add another layer of warmth. Anna bounces upon the trundle bed. She runs her hands over the navy blue flannel coverlet on the baffled down comforter.

  Finding everything beyond expectation, Anna makes her way to join Holmes in the club car. The train’s corridors feature old world gas light fixtures. Their low lights glimmer off the polished brass mountings. The overhead railings are fitted with hand straps for the comfort and safety of the passengers as they move about the train. Anna walks quietly along the corridor.

  The club car is festooned in a holiday garland of tiny white lights. Evergreen wreaths decorated with ribbons and bright colored babbles dress every booth. The scent of pine and spice tickles Anna’s nose. She finds Holmes pouring over a newspaper at a lantern lit table. S

  Holmes, sensing a presence, spies over his gold-rimmed glasses to see who enters the lounge. His baldhead glows in the warm light of the lantern. He smiles affectionately. He is touched that she would keep him company yet. He gets up while she takes her seat across from him.

  He suggests, “I’m having a cup of Ovomaltine, will you join me?”

  Anna looks at the silver service before her with extra cup. “Ovaltine, oh yes. It was my favorite before I took up with the Swiss Miss.” She smiles realizing that Holmes anticipated her return.

  Holmes grins, “Ah my dear Watson, this is the authentic hot chocolate drink of the Swiss Alps. It is the best. American Ovaltine is a poor imitation of our Ovomaltine. And I’m very sorry indeed to inform you that your beloved Swiss Miss is not Swiss at all!”

  As he pours a cup of the thick velvety milk chocolate delight, he asks, “How do you find the accommodations, Watson?”

  Anna nods cautiously as she softly blows her breath over the hot chocolate. She sips and then speaks, “Hmm this really is better than Swiss Miss and Ovaltine.”

  Holmes smirks, “You doubted me?”

  The warmth from the drink and the steady smooth movement of the train reminds Anna of how tired she really is. She struggles to keep her heavy eyes open. She tries to engage in conversation. “So Holmes, what is our course?”

  Holmes peers out of the very comfortable club car window. City lights begin to fade into the dark of night. He details the route, “Our first stop, Watson is the town of Basel. It is the gateway for Western Europe. We arrive at 4:50 AM.

  We take the 5:27 train out of Basel on the Nordic Express to Bern. We get into Bern at precisely 6:27 AM. Bern is the seat of the Swiss government.”

  He continues his tour guide’s spiel, “In Bern the language is German. In the Vaud, where we are headed, they speak French. And on the southeastern border, they speak Italian. In Bern, we have time for a coffee. Then it’s on to the Blue train to lovely Lausanne. We’ll be able to catch the sunrise from the train. I can’t wait to show you my birth place.”

  His excitement finds its way to Anna, she asks, “What time do we get into Lausanne?”

  With a shy smile of contentment he announces, “Lausanne 8:40 AM.”

  Anna realizes now that he has made this trip many times. Holmes goes on to say, “And that is it for the itinerary. We’ll talk more about Switzerland on the train to Lausanne. For now I think that you might consider a long winter’s nap. We have six hours on this leg of the journey. And you can catch a catnap on the train from Basel to Bern, as it will still be dark. At Uncle Vanya’s, we can indulge in a hearty Swiss breakfast.”

  Anna’s eyes begin to glaze over. She starts to think ahead, worry is more to the point. She asks with grave concern, “But is Uncle Vanya expecting us?”

  Holmes’ peacock blue eyes glisten, “Uncle Vanya is always expecting us. You are not to worry. Now I can see from your chocolate pudding eyes that it is past your bedtime. Shall I accompany you to your cabin?”

  Anna wipes her mouth. She answers, “I can find my way. See you in the morning, Sid.”

  Holmes blushes a deep rose with the reference to their Trans American crossing. He struggles for a scant second to regain his composure. He ignores the passing allusion,

  “Bon nuit Watson,” is all he says as Anna leaves his company.

  As she passes through the door she looks back through the leaded glass window. She eyes Holmes. Alone in the large club car, he appears slightly diminished, perhaps a consequence of the passing day’s adventure. For the first time she sees weariness in his wise eyes.

  She ponders, ‘Does the man ever sleep? What can he be thinking? Is that worry that I see in those blue grass eyes? Can it be that one so worldly is perhaps lonely? Should I keep him company after all he has done for me?’

  As she thinks to return to him, he folds his arms on the table and rests his head. Anna decides not to disturb his midnight meditation. She will not intrude upon this man of grace any more tonight. She chides herself for what are obviously projections about her own self. She makes her way to her cabin.

  Anna feeling a bit punchy gets a good case of the giggles as she changes into her red long johns. She is most concerned that the rear flap is buttoned properly in case things go bump in the night, and the passengers are required to make an emergency exit into the blue-black night. She is grateful that there is no mirror to catch her homespun image. She climbs into the neat and tight bed. She drifts off lulled by the mournful moan of the train’s whistle as it traverses the countryside.

  A soft rap tap tap at the coach’s door rallies Anna from slumber. She can’t believe that she slept at all lest the whole time to Basel. Groggy, she answers, “Holmes?”

  “Sorry to wake you, Watson. But we are approaching Basel in twenty minutes. I thought that you might want to avail yourself of the facilities.”

  Anna stirs only slightly. She mumbles to herself, “‘who speaks like that ‘avail yourself?’’’

  “I heard that.”

  She tugs at the curtain to the window. “Is there sun this time of year here?”

  “Yes, we’ll converse more over coffee. I don’t relish talking to a door.”

  “Oh sorry, come in mate, don‘t stand out there in the hallway.”

  He enters fully refreshed for a new day. Anna rubs her eyes, amazed by the stamina of the old geezer. He stands before her, eyes lowered. She asks, “What time is it anyway?”

  “Four-thirty, Watson, meet me in the club car. Don’t rush but expediency will do.”

  Anna nods. He departs. Looking down at the baggy, wild and wooly red long johns, she thinks out loud, “Oh hell what must he be thinking?”

  She throws her broomstick skirt over her long johns and adds a flannel shirt.

  Holmes has hot coffee ready to pour. He rises as she approaches. As she sits, Holmes takes up the glazed coffee pot with its painted winter scene, �
��Shall I pour? I’m afraid that we have only time for a swig and a swallow.”

  Anna gingerly tastes the coffee. She asks, “Umm good, what is this?”

  Holmes looks at her eyes and wonders if they sparkle even when she sleeps. With one eye on the time and the other on her, he replies, “Swiss coffee, Watson, one part coffee, one part peppermint schnapps and one part coffee liquor.”

  Anna’s eyes pop. She adores the smooth candy flavor of the hot brew. But she is hesitant. Holmes senses an objection and adds,

  “Consider it a night cap after all it is yet dark.”

  The train’s public address system announces their arrival in Basel. Anna jumps up to catch her first sight of Switzerland. He laughs at her eagerness, “Not much to see in the dark.”

  “You are right. This could be any place.”

  “You’re first step outside will confirm that we are indeed in Switzerland.”

  As the train pulls into the depot, a blitz of bright lights stings Anna’s sleepy eyes. Stepping from the train, a blast of bitter cold air smacks her plump cheeks. A shiver through and through makes her teeth chatter. Her warm breath steams her glasses. With haste she retrieves and ties her scarf around her neck, “Burr! I forgot what cold is. This is definitely someplace north.”

  Holmes asks, “Can you manage? I’m happy to take your haversack.”

  Anna shakes her head no, and asks, “Holmes, is winter early this year?”

  Holmes just smiles, enfolds his arm into hers and burrows close. He walks briskly, a man on a mission. She stumbles at first to keep up but quickly adjusts to his quick two-step pace.

  She asks, “Are we late? What is the commotion?”