Title: Hyacinths
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Rating: G
Length: 910
Summary: Mouselet, as Special Correspondent of the Marylebone Monthly Illustrated, writes about life in Baker Street, with illustrations of hyacinths.
[Ocelot's Note: The hyacinths are genuine, the pictures, however, were not taken at Baker Street, but in the photographer's studio.]



Mrs Hudson has placed a bowl of hyacinths on the table.  I would not have known they were hyacinths except I heard her telling Dr Watson the name and saying they should be in flower for Christmas.  She also said something I do not know how to spell regarding Mr Holmes and what would happen if they did not bloom.

There seemed to be rather a lot of moss on the pot, so I did not think Mrs Hudson would mind if I took a little.  I had decided to decorate my own little mouse hole with some greenery and I do not care for the prickly holly which is decorating 221B.  I do not think Mr Holmes is very fond of it either, although that may be because he had swept some of it on the floor with his arm when he was demonstrating something to the doctor and then failed to pick it up again, before he walked on it with his stockinged feet.

There was also a sprig of mistletoe hung over the door.  Billy, the page, kept trying to catch Esme to kiss her, but was unsuccessful.  In fact, as far as I know, the only person to make use of it was Inspector Lestrade, who kissed Mrs Hudson when she brought the tea tray up.  Mrs Hudson did not look very impressed, and told the Inspector he was far too old for that sort of thing.

“That sort of behaviour is more suited to the younger generation,” she said and looked at my inspector.  His face turned a rather sweet shade of red.  Dr Watson turned to Inspector Lestrade and they nodded at each other.  I believe my sweet man may have a young lady he has taken a fancy to.  I am glad, for that will make him happy, but I do hope it will not mean he comes to visit us less often.

As it is, the mistletoe has now disappeared, because Dr Watson caught Mr Holmes saying, “of course the berries can make an interesting poison,” and he removed the plant before Mr Holmes had the chance to try it out.



The hyacinths have been growing quickly.  I can see where the flowers are coming out of the leaves.  Mrs Hudson seems to approve of this growth.

However, she did not approve of the growing pile of papers around Mr Holmes chair.  He told her they were all very important and must not be touched and moved in anyway.  Mrs Hudson asked him if the muddy footprint in the middle of one of the pieces of paper was a clue.  Mr Holmes said something like “Harrumph”, which apparently meant it wasn’t.

Mrs Hudson said she was surprised, since she had been following a trail, which had led her upstairs and across the sitting room floor.  Mrs Hudson added that if the footprints weren’t clues she was intending to clean them up, and he should therefore move his papers.  Mr Holmes looked obstinately at Mrs Hudson.  I do not recommend this course of action.  Neither does Dr Watson, who quietly slipped out.  I believe this is the sort of occasion when he spends the day at his club.

Mrs Hudson said, “Mr Holmes, I have better things to do than clean up after you.”

And Mr Holmes replied, “Then perhaps you should go and do them.”

I recommend this course of action even less.

After which, Mrs Hudson became stone deaf.  Every time the doorbell rang Mr Holmes had to answer it.  Since it was just before Christmas there were a number of tradesmen who called, as well as two clients who came in the morning, and Inspector Lestrade and my favourite inspector who called round in the afternoon.  Mr Holmes had to go and ask Mrs Hudson for some tea for the inspectors, and when it arrived there were only two tea cups, not three.

By late afternoon, Mr Holmes went out, calling loudly as he did so, “I shall be out for a half an hour, Mrs Hudson.  And by the way, I’ve picked up those papers.”



The hyacinths will be in flower soon.  It is quite exciting watching them progress day by day.  I wonder if it is like this for Mr Holmes as he watches a case come into flower.

Both inspectors called again this afternoon.  I studied dear Inspector Hopkins face, and he seemed less strained today.  The lines which were marring the perfection of his brow are somewhat smoothed, which is a relief to me.

I do not think everything is solved yet, for there was much planning going on.  Mr Holmes is still quite short in his speech, but at least he is being polite again to Mrs Hudson.  (Matters had improved by yesterday evening.  When Dr Watson returned he asked Mr Holmes “Is Mrs Hudson serving dinner tonight, or shall I go straight back out to my club?”  Mr Holmes said “Hmpf” which clearly is a positive response, because the doctor stayed.)

I did not listen to all the conversation, preferring instead to concentrate on watching my sweet inspector’s hands as they moved over diagrams they were drawing.  I understand they are all going out tonight, (stay safe, dear one), and expect to catch the perpetuators (I think that is how it is spelled) in the act.

So tomorrow, when I wake, I hope to see my hyacinths in bloom and the case safely closed.