The Flower Seller ( WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 10

Before she could move Waverly had flung herself at Nicole, burying her head in her lap, sobbing. Nicole's right hand reached out to stroke her hair, the luscious texture of which sent a shiver through her. Her hand retreated. "I apologise for scaring you," she said, trapped where she sat by a still sobbing Waverly.

"It is I who should apologise," Waverly replied, her words muffled by Nicole's skirt. "Forgive me."

"For what?"

"For having deceived you."

Nicole's hand hesitated over Waverly's head. "I'm glad you sought me out. Congratulations on your engagement."

Waverly looked up, wiping away tears with her hand. "Did Mrs Hudson offer you tea?"

"She only cleans on a Monday, so I'm informed."

Waverly removed herself from Nicole's lap, composing herself. "She's not ideal. Sherlock seems to tolerate her, considering she so rarely cleans. Even on a Monday."

"Perhaps, we take tea elsewhere. Not burden Mrs Hudson given her exhausting duties."

A glint returned to Waverly's eye. "That would be preferable."

Nicole's carriage drew up beside the narrow courtyard leading to The Lamb. They entered, Nicole leading the way towards the back where a small flight of stairs took them to a room for which Nicole had a key. "I'll ask Lizzie to bring us tea," she said, opening the door to reveal her secret world.

It had all the hallmarks of Sherlock, except the space was more orderly, decidedly cleaner, with a vase of fresh flowers placed in the window. "It's not much, but it's home on occasions."

Waverly took her time to survey the room, recognising Nicole had never moved on from their time together. "Sherlock would be proud," she said, after several moments. "I wish he could see you now."

Nicole moved towards the desk, removing her gloves. "He knows I'm here."

She invited Waverly to sit, returning downstairs to speak with Lizzie. When she returned she found Waverly still standing by the window, lost in her own world. "He's not the same," she said, as Nicole approached. "He blames himself."

Nicole came and stood beside her, taking in the view, the chaos below, the vibrancy of a busy market, the shouts and the clatter of those going about their daily business. A loud knock on the door had Nicole accepting a tray from Lizzie, thanking her. They sat in silence as Nicole poured, offering a cup. Waverly's delicate movements, the cup touching her lip, had her mesmerised like a snake by a charmer's music. Waverly's words broke the spell. "Sherlock's still missing."

Nicole removed her gaze from Waverly's full lips. "Should we be worried?"

Waverly's attention fell on the day bed in one corner. "Did we change your life too much?"

"A little. I find male clothing refreshing."

Waverly's head tilted back as she let out a laugh. "Archie. My word, how I would enjoy seeing you dressed as him."

Nicole's body responded in a way she hadn't expected. "He has his uses. Far easier to navigate the back streets of Shoreditch at night."

"You know he has demons in his life," Waverly continued.

Nicole knew. Sherlock wasn't the only one with spies. His habit of frequenting opium dens known to her. She had tried it herself, on occasions, as an experiment to test its effects, the same black cats with red collars dancing through her mind on milder trips. It wasn't for her, although she could understand why Sherlock might need to let his mind roam, let it wander while high, the world lacking meaning without a case to get his teeth into, or rather his mind. Another knock on the door had them both looking in its direction. "Who is it?" Nicole asked.