John Watson wandered into the kitchen, yawning and stretching as he did so. The kitchen looked surprisingly tidy. He paused and looked more critically at the sitting room, which also seemed the same as he’d left it the previous night. Although he’d gone to bed early, he had quickly become engrossed in his book, so it was still late when he fell asleep. And thinking back he hadn’t heard Sherlock come in. Looking around, there was no sign that Sherlock had been back at all.

He put the kettle on for and poured some cereal into a bowl. Then, hearing the front door slam, he took down a second mug, and, hearing the footsteps on the stairs, added a third.

As the door to 221B opened, he called out, “Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” Victor answered, at the same time Sherlock said, “No time!”

John ignored Sherlock, which seemed to be Victor’s response as well, since he came to join John in the kitchen.

“Do you want some toast?” John asked. He then remembered to check the bread for signs of mould but found none.

“Please,” Victor said. “A couple of slices if you can spare it.”

“By all means, it needs eating. Sherlock, do you want some?”

“I told you, no time!”

“Oh, sorry Victor, I need to use the grill. The toaster came to an unfortunate end.”

“Sherlock?” Victor asked with a grin.

“Sherlock.”

John put the bread under the grill and started to eat his cereal. Suddenly he leapt up and slammed the kitchen door shut before grabbing the grill.

“Caught it in time!”

“Here, you finish your cereal and I’ll watch the toast,” Victor said. “And then, once we’ve both eaten our breakfast, we can explain to you what’s happened.”

“You think I’ll be interested?”

“We’re rather hoping you will.”