Sophia Holmes and the Tilly Briggs Cruise of Terror *Completed*

Chapter Five

"Sophie, have you got everything?" John asks, knocking on the door. "We're going to have to go in a minute."

"Oh yeah," I smile to myself in the mirror as I straighten out my clothes, a tight pair of blue jeans which end just under the waistband of my boxer shorts, and a pale blue shirt. I wrap a light scarf around before replying. "I'll just be a minute. Could you open the door?" As the door opens, I hand him his green case and dad's black one.

"How many cases do you need?" he asks, astounded.

"Well I'm away for a fortnight!" I reply, wheeling my own into the living room and ignoring John's raised eyebrows at my outfit.

"I guess you're changing on board, then," he says, placing the cases to one side as we wait for dad to come out from the bathroom. God only knows what he's doing in there. "Sherlock, hurry up, we'll miss the boat." I hide a small smile as he turns to me again. "Why couldn't you have got a job on one closer to home?"

"None of the other ships would take me," I reply, straight faced as dad emerges from the bathroom at last, his hair fluffier than usual but still in it's usual curls. John shifts his position slightly upon seeing dad before beginning to laugh.

"Don't laugh," dad says, but that just makes John laugh even harder. "No, really, don't."

"Your hair?" he manages to gasp.

"Don't we have a train to catch?" dad sighs, and John straightens his face before going downstairs to hide his escaping chuckle. I share a quick, knowing glance with dad but I have to bite my lip. He does look ridiculous.

"Nice," I smirk glancing up at his hair before I can stop myself.

"Shut up!" dad hisses, raking another hand through his hair.

"Sherlock, Sophie, taxi!" John calls from downstairs, and dad and I grab the bags and take them downstairs.

I can see the taxi driver eyeing us suspiciously as we step inside, obviously re-thinking his desicion of adopting a child with his partner, but says nothing. We're not in the cab for long as Paddington station isn't too far away. I'm glad we're taking the cab, though, as these suitcases are heavy and would be a nightmare to manoeuvre around on the tube. The driver helps us unload before taking his fare and heading off again

Once we're on the train, we start the five hour journey down to Plymouth. The scenery flies past and John gazes out at it, but dad and I are on our phones, making the most of the on-board wifi. We're due to arrive at Plymouth half an hour before the ship sets sail, which should give us plenty of time to get settled on board and for me to sign in with management.

We say very little as we check each of our email accounts for any cases we can solve as entertainment on the trip.

"A man claiming that he photographed an alien ship, but it disappeared as he took the camera away," I laugh softly to dad and show him the picture.

"Obsessed with the supernatural," dad begins, "that is nothing but a speck of dirt on the lense."

"So no aliens?" I say, sarcastically dissapointed.

"No aliens, no," dad confirms, smirking and looking back down at his phone. "Try this one: A police woman down in Southampton is puzzled over a case in which involves a murder. The victim owns a large estate with a small collection of staff." I take the phone from him and scan through the message quickly before smirking and shaking my head.

"How simple," I laugh. "The act was committed on a Sunday, and the daughter's alibi is her collection of the post from the post office? Did she honestly think that one through?" Dad shares my laughter, but John looks up at us, obviously not making the connection.

"How -?"

"No post on Sunday's!" John's mouth widens as he nods in understanding, and dad and I continue to share cases.