Ocelot Note: In the final entry in this series of Mouselet’s Occasional Column, she highlights five red things which have made her week.

The week did not begin well, for dear Inspector Hopkins called in (that of itself was a good thing), but his arm was bleeding (a bad thing).  Fortunately, Dr Watson was able to bandage him up and after Mr Holmes had given him some brandy for the shock, my beloved man looked much better, and his face was not as horribly white as it had been.  Mr Holmes also had some brandy, although I don’t know what had shocked him; he is very used to the sight of blood.

Then on Tuesday, Mr Holmes read a telegram whilst he and the doctor were eating luncheon.  He jumped up and knocked a large tomato on the floor.  He can’t have noticed what had happened because as he went to retrieve a book from the bookcase he trod on it, leaving a large red mark on the carpet.  He and the doctor hurried out shortly afterwards, which was a good thing, because the air went blue when Mrs Hudson discovered the mark.

On Wednesday Mr Holmes had a client who was wearing a dark red waistcoat.  The waistcoat didn’t suit him at all, although he seemed to be fond of it, because he stroked it in the same way some people stroke their dogs.  (Normally the nasty yappy types – I like to attract their attention and then they run around yapping.  Mr Holmes doesn’t mind my dong this as the client comes to the point much quicker for some reason.)  The waistcoat was also too small for the client – I could see the buttons straining.

The client said some very uncomplimentary rude things about the police force.  He has clearly not met my intelligent inspector.  The client didn’t stay very long – I wonder if he will say similar things about Mr Holmes later – and when he stood up to leave he put on a pair of pale grey gloves.

At that moment Mr Holmes made three deductions from the gloves and told the client that it would have helped if he’d given the full story and not just the one which put the client in a good light.  The client stroked his waistcoat again, said, “I told you what you needed to know,” and left.

Yesterday was a ‘Mr Holmes plays strange tunes on his violin’ day.  It was also a day when the Doctor departed for his club (I believe the two are related) and Mrs Hudson and Esme did all the noisy household chores.

Early in the afternoon Mr Holmes suddenly said, “Of course, that’s why”, practically sang as he put his violin away, and rushed out.  Mrs Hudson told Billy to run round to the club and tell Dr Watson it was safe to come home.

I believe the case must have been solved successfully, because last night Mr Holmes and the Doctor went to the opera, wearing their very smart black top hats and beautiful red rosebuds in their buttonholes.

And this afternoon is perfection.  My dear inspector has come to tea and he is not in a rush.  I know this because Mrs Hudson is using the pretty green tea set which Mr Holmes is only allowed when he is having proper tea with visitors.  Mrs Hudson says the tea set will last longer that way.

My inspector is here; he looks happy and relaxed.  The Doctor has checked his arm and is pleased with the way it is mending.  I crept close enough to see – it is such a strong, muscular arm, it would be a shame not to take the opportunity.

And there are jam tarts, with not just one sort of jam but two: raspberry and strawberry.  Hopefully my dear inspector will drop a crumb or two for me.  In the meantime I shall happily watch the wonderful man as he eats – for his lips too are a beautiful red.

[O/N: We assume Mouselet finished her column here.  If there was any more she has drooled all over it, and further paeans to Inspector Hopkins have been rendered illegible.]