Intuition

Chapter 1

The flat is comfortable, reasonably priced, and a short walk from work. Ava still prefers calling it an “apartment” though. It is one of the cheapest she could find on short notice. Former tenants complained of too much suspicious activity on that street, including police raids and gunshots, mostly concerning the apartment building across the road. Of course, she lived in unsavory neighborhoods before, and it wasn’t a motel, so how could she complain? Nothing screamed danger about it anyways. Only an odd, but not particularly unnerving, feeling pricks her at the sight of the place, but it only further secures her decision of living there. Ava likes exploring mystery from time to time, and that weird feeling sure did pique her curiosity.

She soon learns that some kind of therapist—or something of the sorts—lives in the apartment across the street, judging from the stream of people that visit each day. Most of them come with worried or nervous expressions, hurriedly knocking on the door and rushing inside, then leaving a bit later with shocked faces as if they had just reached an astounding revelation. Good therapist, Ava thinks. She watches in the morning and evening sometimes when she isn’t working. Her viewing habits give her an approximate idea of when the therapist’s office closes. Ava decides she is going to find out about this great doctor of emotional health with a visit.

The next evening, an hour after she arrives home from work, Ava hurries down the stairs to the open sidewalk and street below. She just adored meeting new people, especially interesting ones.

Ava gives three quick, little raps on the solid wooden door and waits. Soon, a smiling older woman hospitably greets Ava from the entrance.

Safe, friendly, doting.

Ava introduces herself: “Hi, I’m Ava Scott. I live in one of the apart—I mean, flats—thataway.” She points to her place.

The lady’s eyebrows go up a bit at the sound of Ava’s American accent.  

“Well, very nice to meet you, dear,” the lady chirps.  “You are a client?”

Ava shakes her head no.

“Oh, I see. Is this about all the racket that’s been going on? If it’s disturbed you, I’m very sorry. I can’t really seem to stop it myself,” she chuckles.

“No, no,” Ava clarifies, “I just came to meet you. It seems to me you—”

No, Ava knows that isn’t quite right. This woman is not the one...but she continues,

”—must be some sort of skilled therapist…” As Ava explains her reasoning, Mrs. Hudson’s face grows pinched from holding in a bit of laughter.

“Miss Scott, I fear you have made a bit of a mistake. I don’t actually live here, but I do clean up a bit...not the housekeeper, though! Landlady. These boys I rent the flat out to don’t really have time to clean much after themselves, chasing after criminals and such.” Ava’s eyes widen. The older lady continues without pause, “The reason for all those people is Sherlock. He’s a famous detective and they’re all his clients. But a therapist, now that’s something!” she chortles.

Ava mentally Feels something click. Yes that’s it, a detective.

With the conversation finished and Ava still standing on the porch, the older woman stands a bit awkwardly in the doorway waiting for a happy goodbye! from the girl. Unfortunately, Ava has it in her head that she must meet this celebrity detective. To her, it would be a great loss to live across from such a person and never even hear so much as a word from the fellow, all because of a trifling lack of self-assurance.

The girl summons the charms of a bright smile.

“Well, ma’am—” she starts.

A smirk from the landlady. Ava remembers,  that ma'am and sir are reserved only for royalty, and she blushes slightly, yet continues.