Sherlock, My Colleague

Chapter Four

"Slept well?" He asked me. I nodded, I had a good night. I took a shower and then went along. We spent the night watching TV and ended up going to bed at 4, so it was already 10am. When I turned my phone back on, I saw that my dear father had been calling me since 7 that morning. "He really cannot wait for me to go home." I said "You should get going then." Skye said. He helped me put my scarf on, not that I needed help but whatever, and I left. I put my earphones on and went along.

I texted my father saying that I was on my way, he simply replied by an upside-down smiling emoji, his favourite one. I sat down inside the train, looking at the floor. I put myself in my mind palace while taking a little black notebook and a pencil. I started sketching something. But all of a sudden, a businessman sat by my side and I closed my book. He said "It looked beautiful." but I pretended not to hear. Nobody has the legitimity to disturb me when in my mind palace. My playlist was put on random mode, but I might have skipped a dozen songs. In fact, I just wanted to listen to one and only song, "The Greatest Love of All" by Whitney Houston. I don't really know why I need to have role models in art but I have, Sherlock Holmes is my role model in thinking and Whitney Houston is my model in music. I could have been repelled by the idea that basic people need role models, but I did not because I highly respect those two for their art. You will not understand me if you do not regard mind as an art. I think playing with your mind when you are thinking is an art, as much as painting. I like to share my art, but not to a random man in a suit. I do not have a problem with suit, my father wears suits almost on a daily basis, however my problem comes from the fact that I don't really like people working in big companies in the City, that think they are the top 1% intelligence of the country. They would not be taking the bloody underground if they were. Moreover, who pretends to be the elite of the society by wearing personalised cufflinks and goes to work at 10am?! Anyways, I escaped this hypocrisy when my station approached. The walk home was cold, I could see steam coming out of my mouth.

As I came closer to my house, I was walking slower and slower, as if I was expecting something to happen. I stayed a minute or so, standing on the front porch, before ringing the bell. When I finally did, my father quickly opened the door and looked at me from head to toe, I could see that he was relieved not to see me as skinny as a skeleton. This argument was one of his to send me to the rehab center. He stretched his arms, implicitly telling me to come to him. I walked another step and fell into his arms. Being 5'4 and him almost 6'2, he is used to carrying me everytime we hug. Maybe it is also his way to estimate my body weight, to see if I am well.

"You know I care a lot about you, don't you? I'm glad you came back and I hope you'll stay safe from now on.

-As long as I can stay here.

-Under one condition.

-Which?

-You still get help from a specialist.

-Provided I like him or her.

-Of course."

He put his warm hand on my cold cheek, and lead my way inside.

"Have you eaten?

-Yesterday I had dinner.

-Wanna grab a fish and chips?

-No, it is too quick, I will not enjoy it. Plus it is not noon yet.

-Choose what you desire, sweetheart.

-How about... sushis?

-Great idea! I'll see if Alfred is interested. Alfred? Come here a second."

He helped me take off my coat, second time of the day, as we heard quick footsteps upstairs. It was my, non-biological yet adored, 4 years-old little brother, Alfred. He walked down, not to say jumped, the stairs to greet me with a loud and cute "Juliiiiettttttte!". I joyfully held him up.

"Do you want some sushi?

-Yes!

-Alright, I'll order some." Said my father. "But only if your room is organised young man."

Alfred ran to his room. It is funny how a little kid can be excited by food. I wonder if I was like that myself. No one is there to tell me about my childhood, all I have is school notations saying "very bright girl" or "should be in a school for gifted children" which is great, I will not say otherwise. But it is just that I feel that I had a lack of innocence in my life. Maybe it is the reason why I am free-spririted now.

We waited for him to come back with a broad smile to call the sushi shop. We then ate the sushis in the kitchen. It looked like a normal family meal, with the little one messing around with food, the father disciplining, the teenager, me, with her phone under the table.