The Bás I Caillteanas Project

Sophie Taylor

"Sophie?" Lestrade said, trying to pick me from the crowd.

I was meant to be meeting him at a café just round the corner from a big art gallery in the middle of London, but unfortunately I went and got myself lost.

"Greg!" I shouted, trying to get his attention from the other side of the street. Something had happened further down the road, some sort of crash with a bus, so a traffic jam was slowly building up.

Attempting to get across the road, I budged my way past tourists and pedestrians earning myself a few angry glares.

Frustrated drivers caught up in the traffic were beeping their horns and shouting profanities - occasionally at me - as I shuffle-jogged awkwardly across their view.

I got to the other side and Greg was gone. I was too slow. People were still barging past me as I stood, thinking of what to do. I knew he worked at Scotland Yard but that was all he'd told me about his life in the capital city. Giving up, I just joined in with the crowd and walked with them.

•

While walking I noticed a cut off into another little road. I walked to it and saw it said Baker Street.

I got my phone out and called Greg.

It rang and he finally picked up. "Sophie! Hi! I couldn't see you at the café."

"Yeah, sorry about that, I got lost. London changed a lot since last year."

He chuckled, "Where are you? I'll just come pick you up."

"It's called Baker street, I think. I just turned in to a quieter road to phone you."

"Baker street? Oh no. Right, I'm coming. Just stay away from 221B, will you? Please?"

He sounded worried about me.

"Sure. Why, what's wrong with two hundred and twenty one?"

"Sherlock Holmes. Thats whats wrong. Just please, for your own sake, if you see a tall, curly haired man you have to walk away quickly. You'll thank me later."

"Okay then. See you soon Greg!"

"Bye, Soph."

I hung up and started walking to a little restaurant place along the street: Speedy's. I couldn't see 221B anywhere so I relaxed a little. It was probably back up the road a bit. I ordered a coffee and waited for him to come.

After about 10 minutes of 'people-watching' in Speedy's, a short man with greying blond hair came in. He ordered a cup of tea and looked around for a seat. The whole place was packed. Hardly a seat left, other than at a table with a tough bald man with tattooed muscles. Or a young woman with a newborn baby, that was crying its eyes out. I noticed him looking at these people and he could tell how strange it would be with each. His eyes locked on me and he wandered over.

"Can I sit here?" He asked.

"Yeah sure." I smiled at him warmly.

He sat down and took a sip of his tea.

"My name's John Watson, pleasured to meet you."

"Sophie Taylor. You too, Mr. Watson."

We grinned at each other. Then I sipped my coffee and got a text from Greg.

I'm at Baker Street, I can't see you. You sure you got the right street name?

-GL

I replied.

I think so, I'll be out in a second.

-ST

"Sorry, John. I need to go meet someone now. I hope we meet again sometime."

"Yeah, I hope so. Goodbye Sophie." He said.

"Bye."

I walked out, leaving my drink on the table. There was an expensive looking police car parked at the bottom of the street. That must be Greg - ever the show off, I thought.

I eventually got to the silver car with police written on the side. I knocked on the window and he looked up.

"Sophie!" He exclaimed as he got out the motor to hug me.

After a bone-crushing hug we got in and he drove to another restaurant.

•

"Wow, this is posh." I said, getting out and walking inside with him. "I don't feel dressed up enough!" I laughed.

"My treat. I've missed you a lot, Soph."

"I know, me too. But there's nothing I could do about it, it's my work."

I felt guilty for leaving him with no other family to be with. I had to leave last year to travel to Iraq as an army doctor. I couldn't use a gun or anything, I had to lay low and get to the distraught citizens. A disease was spreading vastly and the war didn't help either. He understood I needed to help, but I could see he was upset.

As a doctor I felt the need to be there and try to make a difference. I don't know why, must be the vow doctors have to make at university. It was a pledge to do everything in my power to make people better and help contribute to prolonging life.

We sat down at a quiet table away from everyone. The waiter came to take our orders.

"Hi, could I please have pasta and a glass of water?" I said with a smile at the end. The waiter was a male around 25 years old, he smiled at me and winked. Greg looked annoyed at him for flirting with me and he wasn't hiding it very well.

"And you, sir?"

"I'll have the chicken, thanks." Greg said blankly.

He walked away, looking back at me as he did, presumingly 'checking me out'. Greg glared at him and I smiled at his reaction towards the young waiter.

"I don't like that guy." he said stubbornly pouting whilst glaring at the poor man.

I just chuckled and chatted with him, beginning to catch up.

•••