Sophia Holmes and the Scandal in Belgravia *Completed*

Chapter Thirty Two - The Scandal in Belgravia Part XIII

"I'm surprised you came along," John says several months later as we carry this week's shopping up to the flat. "Usually have to do this by myself."

"I needed practice," I grumble. "The criminal class really need to get their act together - nothing's happened in months. I think my mind is starting to shrivel."

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad for the extra hands." I smile but drop it quickly when I smell the perfume at the kitchen door. I ditch the bags at the door and follow dad over to the window, realising it's now open. We follow our noses along the corridor. I know this smell and my heart begins to race as dad pushes the door to our bedroom open.

"We have a client," dad says to me as we look down at the bed and I can feel my fists clenching.

"What, in your bedroom?!" John replies, hearing it as he places the bags on the kitchen table before walking along the passage and looking over our shoulders. His jaw drops in realisation when he sees mum curled up, fully clothed, in dad's bed. "Ohhh."

"John, you might want to take Sophie out," dad says, his eyes flitting to me before going back to mum.

"I'm fine," I say bitterly.

"Yeah, okay," John replies, taking another look at mum before holding my arm. "Come on Soph," Glaring down at mum, I allow myself to be led away.

I'd had a feeling I'd needed this. I walk into the living room and slide a phone out from each Persian slipper - the position now vacated after dad gave up smoking again. Clint's work is impeccable: true to his word, from the naked eye I'm unable to tell the two phones apart. I slip the phones into my back pockets, making sure the original is in my left pocket and the copy in my right before I take my seat at the table. I hear the shower turn on and a door close before John joins me at the table.

"So, how're we feeling about this?"

"I told you," I reply, faking a smile. "I'm fine."

"I may not be your father, but I can tell when someone is lying." I look up and stare at him for a moment, deliberating my next move.

"In the space of my life, my mum has died twice and come back twice - I'm sensing some parallelism here."

"I should have told you when I found out," John admitted. "I didn't know how you'd react - you were still in a pretty bad state."

"You didn't have to tell me." He raises an eyebrow and I continue. "I may not be Sherlock, but I'm the offspring of him and a woman who's entire life is a lie. I know how to spot a lie." Dad comes back in but barely gives me a glance as he takes a seat opposite John. The shower turns off and we sit in silence for a few minutes until mum walks in wearing dad's dressing gown, her hair loose and damp. Her eyes meet mine and I stare pointedly back, watching as she sits down in dad's seat.

"So who's after you?" dad asks and she draws her eyes away.

"People who want to kill me."

"Who's that?"

"Killers," she replies and I roll my eyes.

"It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific," I say, bitterly, but she ignores me and dad continues.

"So you faked your own death in order to get ahead of them."

"It worked for a while," mum agreed.

"Except you let John know that you were alive," dad said, almost scolding - as if he'd expected better, "and therefore me."

"I knew you'd keep my secret."

"You couldn't."

"But you did, didn't you?" She looks at me. "By the look on her face you did, anyway. Where's my camera phone?"