The Diary Of John Hamish Watson (Aged 10 Years)

2nd September

2nd September 1982

School.

I woke up at six o’clock, dressed, combed down my bed hair. Mum served a hearty full English breakfast with steaming cups of coffee, and then I washed and rechecked my schoolbag.

Dad drove Harry and me to the school gates. I saw Greg walking down the pavement and waited for him.

“John!” he smiled. “Alright?”

“Not too bad,” I replied. “A little nervous.”

“It’s to be expected. You’ll be alright though- Year 5 has Mrs Hudson. She’s really nice.”

I nodded, “That’s good to hear.”

We wandered onto the playground and I saw Harry skipping off with her newfound friends.

“Who’ve you got then?” I asked.

“Dr Peacock,” he replied grimly. “He’s about a hundred years old and never speaks normally- just shrieks and shouts. And Mycroft- you know Mycroft Holmes?”

I nodded.

“Well he told me that Dr Peacock has a cane behind his desk! He beats the naughty children! Even if it’s just a spelling mistake!”

“Really?” I asked, sceptical. Greg nodded.   

“Oh yes. Mycroft never lies. He used to tell us all about the teachers when he came here. They all have secrets- some more than others. Like Mrs Robins the Year 3 teacher was having an affair with Mr Carter and Mr Baker who comes in from the high school to talk to the Year 6’s keeps a hip flask in his waistcoat pocket and always has a tot of rum in his tea while he’s meant to be working.”

I gasped. “But how did he know all that?”

“Mycroft’s clever,” Greg said. “Incredibly so. He has contacts and methods of extracting information from them.”

“Spreading rumours Lestrade?” piped up a voice. I spun around.

“Sherlock!” I declared, immediately breaking into a grin.

“John,” he smiled a little before turning his gaze back to Greg. “What were you saying about my brother?”

“Nothing bad Sherlock,” he replied. “For once. I was actually praising him and his intelligence.”

“Mycroft? Intelligent?!” Sherlock scoffed. “Oh, really, Lestrade you should be a comedian.”

“Yes alright,” Greg sighed. “I know you’re not on the best terms with your brother. But I was just telling John about all the teachers and he popped into conversation. I’d introduce you but apparently you already know each other?”

“We met the other day,” I explained.

“But terminated our relationship soon after I’m afraid,” added Sherlock.

“Eh?” Greg’s eyebrows knitted together in question.

“My Dad’s very strict,” I said. “Sherlock’s a little…adventurous for his liking.”

“He has a point.”

Sherlock gave him a deadly glare and the bell for lessons rang.

Despite my father’s demands, I stuck with Sherlock and he showed me where our classroom was.

“I’m not your monitor,” he insisted.

“Never said you were,” I replied. “I just don’t fancy getting lost.”

We joined the line of Year 5’s outside Mrs Hudson’s room. The girl in front of me- tallish with wild black curls and dark skin spun around.

“Alright freak?” she sighed to Sherlock then turned her eyes to me. “Is he following you?”

“No,” I replied.

“Well, keep away from him, yeah?”

“Why should I?” I asked, straightening to my full height- which sadly isn’t much. “He’s my friend.”

“Seriously?” she laughed. “Freak’s got a friend?!”

The boy in front of her turned around and moved aside slightly.

“A new kid hey? And a friend of Holmes?”

“Keep your nose out Anderson!” Sherlock snapped. “It’s so unsightly it’ll give poor John nightmares.”

Before I could protest about being mollycoddled there came a calm voice.

“Boys, no fighting please- Mrs Smith already warned me about you two but they’ll be no misbehaviour in my class.”

“Sorry Mrs Hudson…” Sherlock and Anderson murmured and we filed into the classroom.

I was seated at the back beside Sherlock.

“Ask if you need anything okay?” she smiled, handing me a pale blue homework diary and a couple of exercise books.

“Yes, thank you Miss,” I said as she returned to the front and sat at her desk to call out the register.

At half past ten, just before morning break, there was a knock on the door and Ms Reynolds from reception came in.

“Good Morning Mrs Hudson,” she said, over cheery. “Sorry to disturb you and your terribly well-behaved class but I have James Moriarty. The new boy.”

“Oh yes,” Mrs Hudson smiled. “I’d almost forgotten. Come in James.”

A boy with jet black hair and dangerous eyes walked in and dumped his bag at the empty table in front of us. “G’morning Miss,” he sighed quietly in a slightly bored Irish accent. Sherlock’s eyes flicked over him, taking in his uniform and bag and the way his hair was parted.

“He’s trouble,” he murmured.

“What was that?” James asked, turning around in his seat. “I hope you’re not making assumptions Sherlock.”

“Leave it. James,” Sherlock said, focusing back on his work.

“Oh no, you’ve made it quite clear what you think. And who’s this?” he glanced down at my homework diary. “Ah, Jonny. Sherlock’s pet? You make such a cute couple I must say.”

“Shut up,” I said quietly and the bell rang.

We sat on the bench behind the netball courts- me picking out the peanuts from my cereal bar, Sherlock rambling on about…something.

“…because if he was wearing brown shoes I would have known it was definitely him. But then I saw his tie and I knew that he was a black shoed kind of person, and he was. So then I had to go back to my hair samples…”

I’d zoned out about ten minutes ago.

“…half-Welsh so Mrs Reed took the last biscuit,” he finished. “Are you listening John?

My ears picked up at my name and I nodded. “Oh yes, definitely. 100% couldn’t agree more.”

He smiled, “Good.”

Soon enough, it was three fifteen and Mrs Hudson dismissed us with a smile. Dad was waiting outside the gates.

“Oh damn,” I cursed, Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “My Dad can’t see me with you! Um, just, go that way,” I gestured in the opposite direction and Sherlock looked slightly hurt.

“Oh just go Sherlock! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good day son?” Dad asked as I climbed in the car. I nodded.

“Very.”

When we got home we were met with homemade cookies as a reward for having a good first day. I thanked Mum and took three upstairs with me for while I was doing my homework.

So, in all, it was a nice day. But busy, and my hand now aches.