Young Sherlock Holmes_ Death Cloud - Andrew Lane [14]
There is! thought Sherlock. You could let me come and live with you for the holidays! He dismissed the thought as quickly as it had formed. Mycroft had his own problems: a demanding job, and now acting as de facto head of the family in the absence of their father, looking after their mother, whose physical health was frail, and their sister, who had her own problems. No, Mycroft had done the best thing for both of them. Sometimes, Sherlock thought, the only options open to you were all unfair, and you just had to choose the one that minimized the bad consequences rather than the one that maximized the good ones. It felt like a peculiarly adult thing to think, and he didn’t like the implication that this was what adult life was like.
Any letter you send to the address above will reach me within a day, and I promise that I will respond instantly to any request you might make – apart from the obvious one that you should come and live with me here in London.
Ah, ahead of me as usual, Sherlock mused. His brother had always displayed an uncanny ability to predict what Sherlock was about to say. He continued reading:
I have suggested that Uncle Sherrinford employ a tutor in order to further your studies. I have received good reports of a man named Amyus Crowe, and I have mentioned his name to Sherrinford. I believe that you may place your trust in Mr Crowe. He also, I understand, has a daughter. Through her you may be able to make some friends of your own age in the local area.
That shows how much you know, Sherlock thought. I’ve already started making my own friends.
In conclusion, I exhort you to remember that this is a purely temporary situation. Things will change, as they always do. Take advantage of the situation you find yourself in. As the Persian poet Omar Khayyam wrote: ‘Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse – and Thou, Beside me singing in the Wilderness – And Wilderness is Paradise enow . . .’
Reading the words, Sherlock tried to puzzle out their meaning. He was reasonably familiar with the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, thanks to a copy that had been donated by its translator, Richard Burton, to the library at Deepdene School. The general thrust of the various quatrains seemed to be that the wheel of fate kept turning and that nobody could stop it, although humanity could take some pleasure along the way. The particular quatrain that Mycroft had quoted implied that Sherlock should seek out his own ‘loaf of bread’ – something simple which would help him get through the days. Did Mycroft have anything specific in mind, or was it just general advice? Sherlock was tempted to write back immediately asking his brother to explain in more detail, but he knew enough about Mycroft to realize that once he had said something, he rarely went into more detail.
Sherlock turned his attention back to the final lines.
One last piece of advice – watch out for Mrs Eglantine. Despite her position of trust, she is no friend to the Holmes family.
I know that you will not leave this letter lying around unitidily, but will store it somewhere safe.
Your loving brother,
Mycroft
Sherlock felt a chill run through him as he read those final lines. For Mycroft to be as direct as to warn him against Mrs Eglantine was entirely out of character, and raised the question, why was he being so outspoken? Was it because he wanted Sherlock to be in no doubt about his opinion of Mrs Eglantine? His final suggestion – no, his final instruction – not to leave the letter lying around was Mycroft’s coded way of saying destroy it. That was more in character.
He slipped the letter back into the envelope, but there was something else in there – another piece of paper. Sherlock pulled it out, and found himself staring at a Post Office Money Order for five shillings. Five shillings!