Fate Without Time

Chapter 2

As John and I were walking around, there was Mike Stamford sitting on the bench. But John didn't seem to notice him. "John! John Watson!" Mike yelled. John and I turned around and walked over to him. "Stamford. Mike Stamford. We were at Bart's together," he said. "Yes, sorry, yes, Mike. Hello, hi," said John as he shook Mike's hand. "Yeah, I know. I got fat!" said Mike. "No," said John, trying to sound convincing. "And who is this young lady?" asked Mike. "My name's Alis Harrison. I met John just now. I was sleeping on a park bench when he found me," I said. "Why were you doing that?" he asked. "My parents died in a car crash and I lost my house," I said. "I'm very sorry for your loss," Mike paused as he turned to John. "I heard you were abroad somewhere, getting shot at. What happened?" he asked. "I got shot," John said awkwardly.

A few minutes later, we had all gotten coffee and were sitting on a park bench. "Are you still at Bart's then?" asked John. "Teaching now. Bright young things, like we used to be. God, I hate them!" said Mike as we all laughed. "What about you? Just staying in town 'til you get yourself sorted?" asked Mike. "I can't afford London on an Army pension," said John. "Ah, and you couldn't bear to be anywhere else. That's not the John Watson I know," said Mike. "Yeah, I'm not the John Watson," John said uncomfortably. "What about you, Alis?" asked Mike. "Well, my family and I moved to London two months before they died in a car crash. I was in school when I got the news. But at this point, I'm not quite sure what I'm gonna do," I said. We were silent for a moment as we drank our coffee. Then, Mike turned back to John. "Couldn't Harry help?" he asked. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen!" John said sarcastically. "I dunno-- get a flatshare or something? It could work out for you as well, Alis," Mike added. "Come on-- who'd want me for a flatmate?" asked John. "I agree. I'm not exactly what you would call a calm person," I said. "Well, you two are the second and third persons to say that to me today," said Mike. "Who was the first?" asked John and I.

An hour later, the three of us were walking into a lab at St Bart's. Standing at a distance was a man doing some sort of experiment. He looked at us for a second before getting back to his work. "Well, bit different from my day," said John. "You've no idea," said Mike, laughing. "Well, that's exactly right for me. I've been to hospitals before, but I've never been to a lab at a hospital before," I said. Then, the man sat down. "Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine," he said. "And what's wrong with the landline?" asked Mike. "I prefer to text," said the man. "Sorry, it's in my coat," said Mike. Then, John took out his phone. "Er, here. Use mine," he said. "Oh. Thank you," said the man as he stood up and took John's phone. "It's an old friend of mine, John Watson. The young lady is his friend, Alis Harrison," said Mike as the man began to type on John's phone. "Afghanistan or Iraq?" he asked. John frowned. I gave a small smile, knowing what was going on. "Sorry?" asked John. "Which was it-- Afghanistan or Iraq?" he repeated as he briefly looked up at John. "Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know?" asked John. At that moment, a woman walked in with coffee. "Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you," he paused as he looked up at Molly. "What happened to the lipstick?" he asked. "It wasn't working for me," she said. "Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now," he said. "Okay," she said as she left the room. "How do you two feel about the violin?" he asked. "I'm sorry, what?" asked John as he turned back around to face him, who was now typing on his laptop. "I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end," he paused as he faced us. "Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other," he said as he threw a fake smile at us. I shook my head, smiling back. "Not at all. I love music. I used to play the clarinet before I moved to London," I said. Then, John looked at Mike. "Oh, you... you told him about us?" asked John. "Not a word," said Mike. "Then who said anything about flatmates?" I asked as he got up and put on his coat. "I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate before. Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. And that man brought a young lady who he just met and is 18 or 19 years old. Wasn't that difficult a leap," he said. "How did you know about Afghanistan?" asked John. "And how did you know about my age and the fact that John and I just met?" I asked. But he ignored both of our questions, wrapped his scarf around his neck, and checked his phone. "Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. The three of us ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry-- gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary," he said as he walked past us and headed towards the door. "Is that it?" asked John. He turned and walked towards us. "Is that what?" he asked. "We've only just met and we're gonna go look at a flat?" I asked. "Problem?" he asked. "We don't know a thing about each other; we don't know where we're meeting; we don't even know your name," said John. "I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him-- possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic-- quite correctly, I'm afraid," he paused as he turned to me. "As for you, Miss Harrison. You are mostly correct. I don't know much about you at all. I know your name and an estimate of your age. I know that you're American, Southeast judging by your accent. And I know that you and John have only known each other for an hour. Other than that, I can't seem to figure out anything about you. You will certainly be fun to get to know. Luckily, I'll have plenty of time to do it because you're coming with me," he said. "Might I ask why?" I asked. "I also deduced that you currently don't have a place to live. You slept on a park bench last night and you are certainly not doing that again. I've got two spare rooms back at the flat that you can choose from," he said. "I could just stay with John," I said. "You're staying with me. Now, come along," he said as he opened the door. A second later, he peeked his head through the door. "The name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street. Afternoon," Sherlock said to Mike. Then, he closed the door and we caught a cab to Baker Street, where I met Mrs. Hudson and got moved in. Sherlock also managed to get me some clothes. What I didn't get was why Sherlock Holmes was having a hard time deducing me. It's not like there's anything abnormal about me.