by Janina Woods
Sherlock and Thompson stared disbelievingly at Hawkins and his easy acquiescence. Even I hadn’t expected him to fold so quickly. But here he was, loyal to a fault. I was strangely touched.
“Thank you,” was all I was able to say.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. If I stay any longer, they won’t believe you weren’t here. I...” Hawkins stepped closer to me and put a hand on my arm. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if this decision costs your life. Make sure that it doesn’t.”
I nodded. Then Hawkins left as suddenly as he had appeared. A part of me wanted to run after him, but I couldn’t risk any of his followers seeing me. We waited until the front door of the building opened and closed.
“I can only mirror your colleague’s words, Mycroft. Don’t die on me now. You’re... the only family I have left.”
As Sherlock said these words, I felt an odd deja-vu. It had been me, uttering the same sentiment not a year ago, as I had set out to rescue my brother from the clutches of the Desert Wind. I understood all too well how he felt.
“Smith... no, Thompson here will keep me safe by performing his part of the mission, which is riskier than mine. I only have to watch the destruction of my home from afar - he has to convince them that I’m dead.”
Sherlock fixed Thompson with his best stare. He didn’t need to say anything. The meaning was quite clear. I took a deep breath.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Sixteen
I estimated that it would take us about half an hour to walk back to my house in Kensington. Longer because of the snow. We avoided detection by exiting the building the way Thompson had entered it: through a window in the back of Mrs. Hudson’s rooms. We kept to the alleyways and the cover of darkness as much as we could, but it was hard to walk where there were mountains of piled up snow in our path. More often than not, we had to walk out into the open, and with every step I felt more and more anxious.
Thompson didn’t say a word until we reached Hyde Park. At this time of night - especially in the winter - I didn’t expect very many people to cross it, which was exactly why we did. The grass was hidden under a white blanket, but the paths were easy to navigate, with their ice cover compacted over the day by many people walking about. I wondered how anyone had even been able to see the distinction between grass and dirt, as we followed the way south.
“Mycroft?” Thompson asked quietly, after we had walked for a few minutes between leafless trees.
“Yes?” I acknowledged him without looking over.
“I know the circumstances are more than dire, but I’m still glad that fate has brought us together again.”
I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know if I was equally glad, or rather terrified.
“After you graduated... well, I remember our promise and our goodbye. It’s what was best, back then. Still, I hope you believe me when I say that I could never forget you...”
I glanced at Thompson, who was so well hidden in the dark, I could barely make out his face. Not that I needed to see it. It was burned into my mind, though a bit younger than now. The one weakness I had allowed myself to have at university.
The snow crunched underneath my feet as I walked on. Much would rest on the response I gave now. I often commended myself on my skill of improvisation, but now I felt at a loss. Of course I had anticipated such a conversation since I recognised him at Baker Street, but with everything else happening, it was hard to filter through my feelings to give an honest reply. But was the fact that I couldn’t simply brush him off not answer enough in itself? Or did I simply not want to alienate Thompson before the plan had been executed? There was strong desire in me to just shut him out, but that was something he didn’t deserve.
“You may believe the same to be true for me,” I admitted, after a while. For a few minutes, the sound of our footsteps was the only thing I could hear. In the dark, we didn’t meet another soul. The snowfall had waned, but the sky was still cloudy, so we could barely see where we were going.
“How’s Victoria?”
I could hear the hurt in his voice still, and it had every right to be there. He had been my distraction from the impossible quest that was named Victoria Trevor. Of course he had known about her. I couldn’t have lived with myself otherwise. It had been hard enough already.
“She’s... fine, I think.”
“You think?”
“I’ve seen her earlier this year, through unfortunate circumstances. She lives in Italy now. Rome. Has been there for a very long time.”
“Oh...” Thompson seemed to work through the implications that statement gave him. “So you and her...?”
“Never have been, never will be.”
We had reached the Serpentine Bridge, which had been cleared of the worst of the snow. The lake beneath was thoroughly frozen. Where people had found entertainment on the ice earlier, there were now only a few workers, pushing the freshly fallen snow to the shore, where it couldn’t disturb the visitors during the day. We crossed the bridge quickly and continued on a smaller road towards the west.
“How have you been since university?” I asked when Thompson kept quiet. “I mean, you’ve told us a bit earlier, but maybe...”
I had expected him to ask more questions, but in the absence I felt compelled to step up.
“Frankly? I’ve been great. Without the pressure to build a family, I’ve been able to live pretty comfortably. I enjoy my work as an editor a lot.”
“Good. That’s good.” I nodded and smiled. “And your wife?”
“She’s my closest confidant and friend, but there’s nothing more and that suits us both. It feels strange to be talking about this. You’re the first person I’ve told this in a long, long time. I suppose since we share secrets deeper than this, it’s easier to talk.”
In just a few sentences, the mood between us had changed from an uneasy tension to a comfortable warmth. The world was threatening to fall down on me, but somehow, in that moment, I felt at ease, walking through the snowy park with an old loved one.
“How about you? If not Victoria, then...?”
“I won’t say there haven’t been some people, but they were few and far between. It never lasted. I didn’t want it to last.”
“You never change, do you?”
“Alexander, I don’t think this is the time...”
Thompson shook his head.
“I know it isn’t. Just know that I’m not bitter... about anything that has happened. I always knew it was impossible to be with you. It’s a wonder we managed those three years. I’m grateful for every additional minute. And I’m rambling again. It’s just that I had a lot of time to think in the last two months. And, well, watching you those last days, I couldn’t help but wonder...”
“Wonder?”
Thompson cleared his throat and kept on walking, hands in his coat pockets, gaze on the ground.
“My deception is a stay of execution. I’ve known this for a while. All victims are people who have refused to help in the campaign against you. Those who didn’t believe the threats. I would’ve been one of them, if I didn’t have this... connection to you. I would’ve accepted the facts about my brother and gone on with my life until Sarah had caught up to me. It should feel strange knowing you’re both the source of my trouble and my salvation, but that’s exactly what you’ve always been. You disappeared after university, and now I know why. Secret agent. What a career...”
I stopped walking and looked up at Thompson.
“So what did you wonder?”
“If anything goes wrong, I will lose this chance that I’ve been given. I...”
His gaze flickered to my lips and I understood. I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the side of the path. Hidden in the shadows underneath a leafless tree, heavy with snow, I finally let him kiss me. His lips w
ere warm and inviting, so I chased them as he drew back, lost briefly in the feeling.
This week was determined to turn my whole life upside down.
“We need to enter the house through the back.”
I motioned roughly into the direction of the townhouse I called home, from the safety of the Queen’s Gate Gardens. As Thompson had broken into it before, it saved me the work of explaining anything more. We had entered the square’s central park to be concealed on our approach. From behind the metal gate, Thompson observed the street. But there was no sign of any observers from this side, so we made a run for it.
As we ran, I observed the man in front of me. He was risking so much to help me. Sure, he had been threatened into the situation, but now he was acting with more bravery than I had seen many of my fellow agents show. A simple newspaper editor, jumping over the fence that separated my garden from the street, breaking into the house, risking his life. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity.
A small voice in the back of my head told me I’d have something to think about when this was all over, and if both Thompson and I emerged from this disaster alive. He was right. Fate had given me a chance, but I didn’t know yet if I were willing to take it.
The snow in the garden was piled high and not compacted enough to walk on. We pushed through the white ice, which reached as high as my waist. I took the lead, so that we wouldn’t fall into the small pond that was situated in the middle of the lawn. The house seemed quiet. No one else had entered it through the garden that much was clear.
“We’ve been using the front door. It was easy to have a key made in the days you were out of the country. We had all the time in the world.”
“Brilliant,” I muttered. “Glad to be of service.”
The backdoor to the house couldn’t be opened easily. It swung outwards, so we’d have to dig it out, which would take time. I pondered our options. The windows on the ground floor were protected by heavy iron bars, but...
“Follow me,” I whispered and pointed upwards.
I had climbed my own house many times, taking note of how to reach certain windows and other parts from the outside. Therefore it was easy for me to pick a route that took us to the window of my study, via a low apple tree and the wall that separated my garden from that of my neighbour. I balanced between the spikes on top of the wall and reached for the sturdy ivy that had grown on the back of the house for longer than I had been alive. My left arm protested every pull, but it was my smallest worry at the moment.
Without hesitation I let my elbow crash into the glass of the window. It broke nicely in the middle, shards flying into the dark interior. I heard Thompson gasp behind me, but I simply continued to knock out the edges that had stuck to the frame, so we could enter the house without injury. Not a minute later, we were standing on the carpet, boots crunching on the shards as they broke further under our weight.
“Do you really think it matters now?” I asked Thompson, as I caught him staring at the damage. “The whole house will come down anyway.”
“I suppose you’re right, but-”
“Don’t waste your breath. I just want to pick up a few items before I lose it all,” I cut him off. “It won’t take long. I’ll even let you hold the bag.”
Thompson followed me mutely through the dark interior of my study. I found my desk easily enough, and had no problem locating everything on it, even without any light source. It helped that I had sorted through most of my things only days before, when I had cleaned the house from top to bottom.
Well, that had been a spectacular waste of my time.
“Why are you laughing?”
“It’s nothing.” I shook my head, while I reached into the lowest drawer of my desk. “I suppose I deserve all of this, don’t I?”
“No one deserves-”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I wanted you to oppose me. It was really only an observing remark. A rhetorical question. We can’t change what’s happening, so I have to accept it for what it is and go forward.”
I heard my companion exhale sharply, but there was no further rebuttal. From the drawer, I pulled a thick envelope, which was fastened with a string, and handed it to him to hold on to.
“The deeds to this house and all other estates. My parents’ will. Sherlock could have never been trusted with the papers, and I didn’t want to leave them in my office,” I explained. “I’ll find a bag soon, don’t worry.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about, Mycroft.”
“Quite so...” I mumbled and let my gaze swipe over the desktop.
There were a number of items I’d regret seeing destroyed. But there was only so much I could take with me without looking suspect on the street. And if I started taking things randomly, I’d never stop. No, I had to make a choice. But how do you choose which parts of your life to keep?
As I reached for the pile of painted ceramic plates, which I had elected to bring with me in the aftermath of Sherlock’s rescue from Egypt, a curious feeling overcame me. I held in my hand a part of my past. A part I had been proud of, but now, in the light of everything that had happened in the last days, it had been tainted, like all of my memories in the Service. I realised that this could be a chance to get rid of it all. A clean slate, so to say.
With this in mind, I almost put the small plates back, but then I stashed them in my coat pocket anyway. They were not only a reminder of the things I did, but also of my devotion to my brother. This wasn’t a black or white decision. There was much grey in between, and I would have to figure this out later.
Hopefully much later.
A few more, small items joined the collection in my pocket. They weren’t anything valuable, but to me, they represented parts of my life I had indeed once been proud of. With no small measure of relief, I also fetched a replacement cane for the one I had to leave behind on the frozen Thames. It was an older one, out of use for a few years already, but I always felt naked without this particular weapon at my side.
In the corridor I waved for Thompson to follow me, and we picked up a knapsack that wasn’t too big for me to walk around with, without attracting attention. From the other rooms in the house we retrieved a few more things. It was still hard to choose. In the light of losing everything, suddenly all seemed so important.
Finally we reached my bedroom. I couldn’t refrain from dumping my whole collection of cufflinks and cravat pins into the bag, which was already very full. With regret, I eyed my selection of clothes, most importantly my shirts and suits. Most of them were made just for me, to explicit specifications. It had taken years to assemble this collection, and I was so very proud of it.
“My neighbours aren’t going to like this at all.” I smiled as I let my hand run over the suits, feeling the differences in texture. “I’m quite sure that a part of their houses will go down with mine. That’s the disadvantage of joined buildings. On the other hand, it’s much easier to heat.”
“Do you know them well?”
“As well as one can, when one is never home.” I shrugged and pointed towards a wall on my right. “There’s a young man, living alone on this side. At least he was still alone last I saw him. A decent enough fellow. On the other side is an old married couple, who collect stuffed animals. They are... well, quite nice. If a bit odd.”
“Aren’t you the oddest of them all?” Thompson laughed.
“I guess you’re right.” I didn’t take my eyes of the suits, and just then I had an idea. “Quickly, follow me.”
If Thompson was surprised by my sudden mood change, he didn’t show it, but followed me diligently, the knapsack still over his shoulder. I directed him back to the room I had taken it from and pointed at the countless suitcases, stacked in a corner.
“I need them all in the bedroom”, I said, already grabbing as many as I cou
ld. I had always wondered why my mother had furnished me with the lot, but now I was glad to have them around.
“Are you seriously considering packing all of your clothes?” Thompson said, but grabbed a few cases of his own anyway.
“Yes! And hurry up!”
I had moved ahead and already started to throw the suits into the cases - as many as I could, packed as tightly as I could achieve. Wrinkles were the last thing I was worried about at that particular moment.
“Mycroft, we can never carry them all out of here.”
“We don’t need to. I just need them all to be somewhat protected. After we’re finished packing everything up, we’ll carry them up to the attic. Hopefully, if it’s only the roof crashing down on them, the cases will hold and I can collect them at a later date. I would hate for such good tailoring to go to waste. It’ll take me years to reassemble this collection, and some of the tailors aren’t even in business any more.”
“You’re quite mad,” Thompson remarked, but it didn’t sound like an insult.
It didn’t take us long, because we were still feeling the pressure of a whole cellar full of explosives under our feet. I had taken a cautious look earlier, but with all the wiring in place, I hadn’t dared to set a foot into the underground in fear of setting everything off prematurely.
Finally, everything I could think of was stashed in suitcases and other boxes in the attic. I took a last look around my bedroom, committing the scene to memory. I would never see it again. Then I felt a hand on my arm and turned to find Thompson looking at me with a mixture of commiseration and remorse.
“It’s not your fault,” I said quietly. “You’ve made it possible that I could at least prepare. And you’re helping us all to get out of this situation the best way possible.”
“I wish it could be different. It’s not quite how I imagined our reunion to go.”
“Me neither.” I sighed. “And if I’m to be frank, I have thought about contacting you many times. But the nature of my work... and the promise we made...”
