An Interview with Holmes & Watson

My sense of well-being at Holmes’s soothing words was dashed when I saw Watson’s stern glare in his direction, but when Holmes extended his hand to guide me back to the sofa I had little choice but to resume my seat. Perhaps, I thought, I could salvage something of my botched effort at the interview (to say nothing of my career, as I was certain Mr Collinwood would not accept my version of events and I would certainly be dismissed).

Watson rang for Mrs Hudson to bring tea, and there was an uncomfortable silence in the room as I waited for Holmes to guide the conversation. Despite the tension in the room (was it only my tension, I wondered?), I still found both men compelling.

Compelling and attractive.

Holmes packed and lit his pipe and surveyed me with what seemed to be equal measures of disdain and curiosity. “Now, Miss Purbright, shall I interview YOU?” Watson shot Holmes another stern glance, but he was not to be denied. I sat frozen. “What,” he continued, “no words from the press?”

“Holmes, I –“ Watson started to say before he was interrupted.

“Your true name is not Purbright, but Mary Tanner. You began life in the East End. You were orphaned at the age of twelve and supported yourself by….”

“Please stop. Your point is made”, I pleaded, but he continued

“…selling yourself from the age of thirteen. But you were no common whore; you had dreams of a better life, and you had beauty and intelligence, and with the help of certain well-to-do……shall we call them benefactors? You were able to get an education. With the assistance of another benefactor,” he smiled slyly, “you secured your position on the newspaper. You changed your name to Purbright, because Tanner smells of the Docklands and the East End.” He stopped, and took several long draws from his pipe.

I hung my head, and felt hot tears welling in my eyes. “How do you know this?”

His voice seemed more gentle and softer, his smile less menacing. “Miss Purbright, it is my business.”

There was a soft knock on the door, as Mrs Hudson brought in the tea. Dr Watson took this opportunity to bring me a handkerchief and placed a gentle reassuring hand on my shoulder. I dabbed at my eyes, composed myself as best I could, and accepted the tea Holmes had poured for me.

There was silence hung heavily in the air, until finally I put down my teacup. “Will you excuse me?” I really must go,” I said, still unable to look at either man. Once again, I felt shame because, for reasons I can’t explain, I was more drawn to Holmes and Watson than ever before. None of my, (what was the word he used?) benefactors had ever treated me this way, but it only seemed to heighten my desire.

“No. Stay awhile longer. I’ll tell you what I think you want to know, but I don’t think now, you’ll be in a position to use it.” He crossed the room to where Dr Watson was sitting and lightly caressed his cheek. His hard features melted, and he had an air of incredible gentleness about him. Instead of backing away from Holmes’s hand, Dr Watson closed his eyes at the soothing touch. To steady himself, Holmes placed his other hand on Dr Watson’s thigh and with a slow, deliberate movement, leaned down and kissed him fully on the lips.

I wasn’t shocked by the action, I had seen men kiss before, but it was …wrong for me to be here, watching this. I needed to leave. As I rose from the sofa, Holmes sensed my movement and broke off.

“Miss Purbright, please sit down. I want you to know the entire story”, he said, before leaning down to kiss Watson again. This time their lips parted and I could almost feel the intensity of their contact, and see the stiffening of Holmes’s organ beneath his trousers. My face was flushed, and I felt a slight tingling in my own body.

Wrong or no, I sat down again. I could not help but to watch.

Coming soon – Chapter Four, “The Observance of Trifles”