Love never dies | Sherlock Holmes

Chapter V ~ You are what I could not be

   -I don't want to talk to anyone, said Enola, perched on a branch of the tree in the Holmes family garden, occupying her time by drawing, while I sat leaning against the bulky trunk.

   A lot of memories flashed through my mind as this used to be where Sherlock and I spent the most time together.

   -Stay calm, you don't need to talk. You can listen to me instead.

   -Elizabeth, I love you, but at this moment I want to remain in the fullness of my thoughts! Enola stated, focusing on the sheet in her hands.

   I suddenly hear footsteps approaching, and, certain that Mrs. Lane was busy, and Mycroft would not come near this place lest he soil his freshly polished shoes, I say that the only one to whom that walk may belong, so recognizable to me, it's Sherlock.

   He follows my lead, despite Enola's murmurs and sighs, and rests his head against the angular bark, narrowing his eyes and looking at me through his lashes.

   I am haunted by dozens of wonderful memories, which unfold successively and unbelievably in my head, childish games and deep moments, all in the company of the one who, after so long, was next to me again.

   -I was hoping for a little privacy, you two, commented the indignant young woman.

   -I also enjoy a sketch, said Sherlock. Helps me think, process my thoughts.

   -Helps me do the same, replies Enola, still upset.

   A light breeze of wind blows through my hair, reaching Enola's hands and causing the paper to slip from her and into her brother's possession.

    Sherlock arched an eyebrow curiously, then studied the drawing, which he turned to me with a chuckle. I share his gesture when I see the caricature of Mycroft's face, with its huge eyes, bulky nose, and hexagonal face.

   -A caricature. Perhaps best if Mycroft doesn't see it, Sherlock said with a laugh.

   -Do you intend to stay up there? I ask, lifting my face to capture Enola's expression.

   -I was hoping for some privacy! she rushes.

   -I too was hoping to be a princess when I was eight and here I am, a music teacher with an unhealthy addiction to writing!

   I hear Enola laughing, and I can't help but smile. Sherlock looks at me for a moment, then turns to face the branches his sister is sittingon.

   -You know, last I remember, you were quite a timid little thing. You had a pine cone wrapped in wool, dragged it with you wherever you went, calling him Dash, Sherlock recounted, laughing at the memory. Someone told you that Queen Victoria had a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel called Dash and you decided you wanted the same. We could never persuade you to put any trousers on. Your bottom was always bare!

   I started to laugh harder as I remembered the days when Sherlock would tell me about little Enola's exploits and how he was getting used to her. Also, I was at their house more often than I should have, so I was inadvertently capturing such precious moments.

   -I think that's all the memories I have, says the detective, searching my eyes again.

   -Thank you! I hear Enola coming down through the branches. If you could now forget them all! A pine cone called Dash? That sounds ridiculous!

   -Father use to chase you all about the place, shouting: "Get that damn dog out of my house!"

   Enola finally laughs, amused at her brother's acting talent, then continues sadly: