A Winter's Tale

Chapter 5: A soul that waits and hopes

It felt so good… That was all Basil wanted to focus on. Whatever he was sitting on was soft, dry and most importantly warm – certainly not snow. And Jack Frost was not nipping on his nose anymore, so that was good. Only thing he didn't like about his current predicament were those frantic voices which seamed to be floating all around him. He wanted to crack open an eyelid and tell them to shut it so he could get back to sleep, but his eyes were perfectly comfortable as they were.

He was about to slip back into sleep when he heard a frantic, high-pitched voice.

Olivia?

Still too far gone to open his eyes, he tried to focus on what the child was saying.

"Wake up, please wake up! You promised!"

… He did? What? When?

"You promised! Sir, please! You promised you'll help me! Please… Please wake up!"

Olivia sounded desperate, like she was on the edge of panic. Basil made an effort to crack open an eye, only to notice that he was in his room… which seamed to have been invaded…

Vole and Clawes were seated in a corner, observing everything and everyone, a round little mouse whom Basil identified as a doctor… surgeon, to be more exact – one who's been in the military, most probably – was putting away a stethoscope. He was smiling, unlike everyone else. Basil considered that to be a most pretty sight. Still, he will have to say that the doctor's smiling face came close second to the sight of his dear brother Myerricroft trying to calm young Olivia.

"Miss Flaversham, he'll be all-right."

"But he won't wake up!" the child cried miserably. "Why won't he wake up? What if he never wakes up?"

The doctor chucked at that, and Basil had to restrain himself from doing the same.

"Child, do cease your worries. It was just a mix between fatigue, shock and exposure to bad weather. With a good night's sleep he'll be as right as rain. Though I would still prescribe him at least one day's bed rest. That back of his need some proper mending."

Bah! Basil was feeling better then ever!

"Still…" The doctor continued. "I'd truly want to know what doctor in his right mind diagnosed him with locomotive difficulties. This man's far from crippled - only improperly treated."

… COME AGAIN?

"That is what the doctor said, and at the beginning we were all inclined to believe him." Myerricroft explained, a note of wonder in his voice.

Yes! YOU're shocked! What about me? They're my damn legs!

"Well, of course you were. I imagine everything looks bad at the beginning. But with proper exercise he should have been back on his feet months ago."

… So all he needed to get better was exercise? That's why he was feeling better after running around all day yesterday? Ohh… He was going to feed that cheat that called himself his doctor to the wolves! AFTER disemboweling him!

'No effort' my foot! HUMP!

"But he's still not waking up!" Olivia cried and Basil noted with amusement that she was not even looking at him.

Both eyes now fully opened, he propped himself on his elbows, waving a week hand towards the ones present there.

He needed to buy a camera one of these days, really he did. If the look he saw on Vole's face the other day was a good one, then this one here was worth the whole flat's weight in gold! He will most certainly treasure the memory of this image forever.

Myerricroft was the first to recover and greet him back, choosing to do so by ruffling his hair. Ohh… If Basil knew his brother well then he'll be sure that by the end this day was over he would wish he never opened his eyes. Ruffling hair was Myerricroft's way of saying 'make a will, because you're dead'.

Clawes and Vole followed, tipping their heads slightly and even the doctor waved a chubby hand in return.

Olivia was too busy crying to see all that.

"What if he dies? It will all be my fault! I shouldn't have… He shouldn't have… Now he might die!"

Basil just couldn't take it any more. He just had to say something before he would explode laughing.

"Don't lay me to rest just yet, Miss Flamcester. I assure you, that by no means am I dead and no nearer am I to it now then I was three weeks ago. In fact, judging by how well I feel at the present time, I could say that I felt nearer to death back then." He paused. "Of course, that is only unless Baker Street really is hell and I am stuck for all eternity looking at the last people I expected capable of smiling to… well… smile! I swear: nothing is creepier then seeing Myerricroft smile."

He pretended the thrown pillow didn't amuse him.

He may have made a comment on the matter of the stray pillow, but his mind was not able to get very far with that though, as in the next instant he found himself being hugged about the neck.

He thought in that confusing moment that he must be hallucinating. Surely he was ill. After passing out in the snow he must have caught something. Yes, he was hallucinating. Why else would he see Olivia Flaversham clinging onto him like life depended on it?

"You're all-right! You're all-right!"

"Really child! I know I'm not much to look at but have a bit of faith! This old body's seen far worse. Surely a stiff back is no issue…" he choked out most comically, pausing briefly to look at his brother. "Right?" At the eldest's growl, the room erupted with laughter, but the little girl who was clinching around his neck did not loosen her grip for a moment. For the briefest of seconds he allowed himself to rest a hand on the back of Olivia's head, in a self-conscious half-embrace. But only for a second. "That's enough now, child. If you wish to suffocate me this is not the most effective way to do so."

The girl giggled, but finally released him, much to Basil's relief. He was not accustomed to hugs.

"You're all-right, sir." Olivia repeated. Was there a reason why she was imitating a broken record player?

"Yes, thank you very much for stating the obvious, child."

She blushed and lowered her head. Her feet must have looked quite interesting at the moment. "And guess what? The doctor said you'll be walking right again soon, too!"

"I heard as much, my dear. I was in the room as he said it."

"Sir?"

Basil felt that if this is what grown men had to endure while interacting with children, then every parent on this planet deserved a whole lot of more respect… or pity. "Yes, Olivia?"

"Thank you for saving my life, sir. Again."

For some unexplainable reason, he was not expecting those words. Maybe that's why they struck him hard, and for a long while, Basil simply didn't knew what to say. This child was unpredictable, or maybe highly adaptable. Ether way, she always managed to surprise him.

Oh, and she was waiting for an answer.

"You're most welcome, child."

Gods! He must have something in his eyes. Why else would they be tearing up?

"Come now, little miss. Let's leave Mr. Basil be for now. Maybe we can color him a 'get well soon' picture."

God bless you, Clawes!

Olivia smiled at the inspector's offer, but still turned to look at Basil as if she was asking for permission. Still not knowing what to do, he simply waved for her to be off.

"Thank you sir!" she said, dashing out the door. Clawes followed. Basil barely had time to lean back properly when Olivia's head popped up again, saying:

"And it's Flaversham!" – before disappearing again.

… Why of all the cheek! Out loud though, he only said: "Vole, quite your snickering. It's most licentious of you."

The new face decided it was the right time to make itself known to his patient. "I say sir; I do believe we haven't properly met. My name is Doctor David Q Dawson. Well… Major David Q Dawson but that's old history."

They shock hands, and Basil fought to restrain himself. He found he couldn't. "I had wondered how a surgeon would find way all the way over to my humble home on Christmas day, yet your name now provided me with all I needed to know. I must admit I didn't expect to see you here so soon though. Seems I was right again and Stanton was not all that honest concerning your financial state."

The doctor stared. "How did you…"

For the next five minutes, Basil explained his reasoning, and watched as the doctor's jaw kept dropping lower and lower with each word he uttered.

"Why that's…" Dawson started as Basil's explanation has come to an end.

Myerricroft intervened. "Please don't encourage him. I'm trying to rid him the habit of telling people how he reads them for years, yet all my work is in vain as you can clearly see."

"…Amazing" was all the doctor could say before turning out of the room to collect his thoughts. Myerricroft sighted and rolled his eyes. Basil merely chuckled, thinking all the while that if it were him speaking, he would have chosen 'elementary' as a much better word to describe his deductions.

"Oh, and Sherringford - you received a telegram while you were out." Basil gowned as he accepted the telegram from his brother. Myerricroft was never going to let him live this down, was he?

But back to the telegram… And SCORE! Yes! He KNEW IT! Oh, so many months and he still could read criminals like an open book! Daniel Backet, born in Wells, had indeed been one of Ratigan's most slippery henchmen, but that was only because he just happened to knew London as well as his own pockets. But after the Professor's downfall, it was easy to deduce that Backet, like many other that got away, would chose to leave town. That was his mistake, but then people were not that bright. And now all was left to one question: when on the run, what is the first place a man would turn to? Answer: home. So Wells it was then, and it was in Wells that he's been caught… for nothing more but petty thievery from the looks of things. Irony of it all! The ones that arrested him didn't even know that he was a wanted criminal!

Basil kept reading until one piece made him frown. Apparently, when the police went to the man's home they found among big piles of stolen goods a middle-aged mouse which they were unable to identify. The police determined him to have been a hostage, but if that was so, then they couldn't explain why the state they had found him in was so very bad. After sending the man to undergo prologue treatment, the doctors were able to find out only two things about him before he slipped into the comatose state he can still be found today. One of these things was that he had a daughter, Olivia. The other was that his name was… Hiram Flaversham.

The telegram ended with the address where Mr. Flaversham could be found at.

Basil leaned back in bed. Well, he found Flaversham, but how will he ever be able to tell little Olivia just how his father has been found?

A small little detail from the previous day suddenly gained monumental importance and Basil turned to glare at his brother.

"You knew." He accused. Myerricroft did not deny. "You knew about this." He fluttered the telegram. "You knew all along and that is why you put me to that bloody test the other day. You wanted to see what I'd do." Still no sign of denial. Basil groaned. "Why, oh why, dear brother mine, did you not tell me?"

"You never asked." Basil banged his head on the headboard. "And after I've seen you trailing all around town –" he banged his head again "– gathering data –" another bang "– and doing such a good job at it too –" BANG! "– I decided that it was best if I just let you do it at your own pace. Plus, it would hardly be fair. I can't be expected to do all the work around here, you know."

Now that the banging started to hurt his head too much, Basil swung an arm over his eyes.

"You're a cruel, cruel man, Myerricroft." He stated. "You knew I was out of practice, more weary then ever, and had an abused child on my hands (don't you dare deny that!) and yet here you are now, telling me my work has all been in vain just to prolong my torture."

A smirk. "Oh, I wouldn't call all that work as being 'in vain', little brother. It got you out of the house and back to doing what you liked to do, as well as managed to get some life back into that scrawny little body of yours. It really felt wrong seeing you become so cautious and obedient all the time."

Huh? "Did you not just give me an half an hour lecture on the dangers of going out on my own as well as the ones concerning my job?"

"I had to. I would hardly qualify as a proper bigger brother if I wouldn't."

It took all of Basil's will power not to spring out from the bed and declare open war.

"Will you at least help me tell the girl? You know, as one who has more experience with people and such?" There was hope in his voice, but hardly blatant. You see, when one knew Myerricroft as best as Basil did, he or she will come to know when to hope –

"No. You already seem to have the whole situation under control."

… and when to resort to blackmail. "When I will tell Mrs. Judson about all of this, I will be sure not to forget to mention that you were the one to blame for the child's escapade and by extension my potential death due to prolonged exposure to the elements." He promised.

"Such flair for the dramatics, dear brother… But right now why don't we think about finding the right words to use when we'll tell the child?" Success! Nobody had the courage to stand up to an angry Mrs. Judson – not even Myerricroft. "And while we're at it, my boy, it might be best to think about how or if you'll get the child all way over to Wells to see her father."

Correction: get the practically homeless, probably abused, certainly neglected, problematic child whose father was currently lying in a clinic down in Wells in a comatose state to see said father. Basil returned to banging his head against the headboard.

By the time Dr. Dawson returned to the room, Basil was practically seeing stars. This fact did not escape him.

"Oh, my! I say, Mr. Basil. Whatever is the matter?"

"Headache." Basil replied curtly, glaring at the ceiling.

The doctor didn't seem to notice his bad temper. "Hmm… That's strange. You shouldn't be experiencing any maladies of the sort considering what I just gave you. No matter. I'll find you something suitable for it."

"Lovely chap, don't you think little brother?" Myerricroft whispered in his ear when he least expected it. Basil never had the chance to ask him to explain however.

"Mr. Basil!" came the voice of Olivia Flaversham from downstairs. "Mr. Clawes wants to teach me how to make a proper Christmas card! Can I?"

Basil rolled his eyes. Really now… "Yes, of course you can, Miss Flanterbottom!"

"It's Flaversham!"

Basil shock his head. "Whatever…" Why in the world would that child need to learn how to make a seasonal card at this point in life anyway? Life with that child will never get boring, that was for sure.

Still, a part of his mind said, you best just let her have some fun for now. Who knows when she'll ever be so happy…

"I must say that's quite an unusual girl you have there." Said the doctor… Dawson, as he approached him with a glass of water and a pill. Basil took them gratefully. "Unlike any other six-year old I've ever seen, that's certain."

"You have no idea." Basil muttered, taking a snip from the glass.

"But I guess it's understandable considering whose ward she is." Right… Wait a minute… Does that mean… With her father in a comatose state, did that mean that I just agreed to…? WHAT? "Don't you agree, Mr. Myerricroft? Surely you too can spot the similarity- Mr. Basil! What's wrong?"

Later, the retired army doctor would remember that day with both a drop of mirth and a tinge of guilt for with that one comment he nearly caused the greatest detective London has ever seen, one who has survived the impossible, to chock to death on his own water…

Half an hour later however, Basil was splashing water on his face, all the while wondering what he was going to do. He looked at his tired green eyes as they looked back at him from the mirror. They seamed to say 'just tell her already', but his heart had a different idea.

From beyond the door, he could hear laughter – her laughter. Vole and Clawes have long since left (something concerning a robbery in Bloomsbury) and according to Myerricroft, the child had kept herself busy trying to teach the doctor how to activate her lily-ballerina. Why the doctor was still there, Basil was not certain, but truth be told, he appreciated it. Somebody had to stay with that child before he and Myerricroft would work out a way tell her without fully breaking the child.

They soon found that there was no such way.

And then there was another problem: where would she go? Basil knew what he told his brother a night ago when he was, ahh… 'put to the test', but that was only hypothetical. Myerricroft knew, as well as Basil did, that such a thing could not happen. It just couldn't. Basil was not the fatherly type. He did not have patience, he did not have rules and all in all, he was not a suitable parental figure.

"Sherringford?" his brother called from the doorway. "The longer we'll wait, the harder it will get. You know that, right?"

Basil nodded before following his brother down to the sitting room. It was now or never then.

Olivia had not said a word since they started explaining her father's situation to her. She did not move, she hardly blinked and Basil once wondered if she was even breathing. She just sat there, her face neutral, like a stone lying on its mountain.

After what seamed to be an eternity, they were finished but the girl's pose remained unchanged. The adults were starting to get nervous, the doctor particularly unable not to voice his concerns. But one hard look from Myerricroft shushed him instantly. Then, something most peculiar happened. The girl hopped out of the chair she was seated in and rushed to get on her scarf, cap and coat. From said coat, she pulled out a couple of coins, coins which Basil already knew represented all her savings.

He prayed she was not doing what he thought she was doing.

God did not answer his prayers when the girl stepped forward, pausing to sit in front of him. Basil took pride in the fact that he was a mouse that simply didn't cry, but when that child extended a hand with two sixpences in it, he almost did.

"Child, please pocket your money." He almost pleaded. She shakes her head no.

"You kept your promise, sir." She started simply. "You found my daddy. And that is all I ever asked. For someone to find my daddy… For someone to tell me… where he was…" She tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible, for her body to be as steady as possible, but her voice still cracked and her arms were shaking. She may pretend for as long as she liked, but none of the grown-ups were fooled. Her body spoke volumes of just how much this all affected her.

Dawson tried to calm her down with gentle words, but none seamed to reach her. Myerricroft didn't even try, which was to be expected. The child was already a bit weary of him to begin with. And Basil… Basil wasn't sure what to do. His mind told him to leave it to the doctor and try and calm the girl while he would lock the doors and windows while his heart (or, whatever accounted for one in his case) told him that it wouldn't be enough.

He remembered when he confronted her when it came to that most dreadful nightmare of hers and how she cried in his arms till all the tears had died down. Was it really wise to try and do the same?

He looked at the doctor and at his brother, hoping someone would tell him what to do. Myerricroft's face betrayed nothing, much like always, but the doctor seamed to say 'please do something'.

Traitors… the both of 'em! Basil sighted. Guess it was all up to him, as always.

As gently as possible, he took the child's hand in his own, gently closing her palm around the two sixpences. The child's eyes shot up at him, completely un-expecting to see Basil smile so tenderly at her.

"Come now, child. I didn't do it for the money. I've never done it for the money." Though his back still protested lightly at the gesture, Basil lowered himself at her level. "I know it's hard to understand, but really now child. After everything that's happened do you really believe we'll abandon you now? So your father is slightly ill –" he knew he was going to regret his next words one way or another… "– but that doesn't mean he's never to get better again."

Olivia had no such hope. She had seen too many in the last couple of months to believe in miracles anymore. She refused to hope. But now, hearing it from Basil… "Really?"

"Have I given you reason to doubt my words, young lady?" He tried to sound offended, but did little to hide the fact that it was an act. Little Olivia noticed this and despite the situation, she giggled. Still, Basil became serious as he continued: "But yes, really. It may take time, but I promise you that everything will work out for you – and your father. But that day will come. But you must believe it will. Hope, my dear, must always be the last to die. For you see, until the day when God shall deign to reveal the future to man, all we can do is just wait and hope."

Wait and hope… Unable to keep the tears inside any longer, Olivia threw her hands around Basil's neck. The human was right. She was right! And Olivia thanked every single star in the sky for meeting Basil. She cried, though this time her tears were not ones of sorrow and once again, she tried to thank Basil. She didn't knew if he heard her through her weeps, but she did, and she will continue to do so, for in a very long time she found a soul who despite all odds, had given her hope instead of taking it away from her.

For his part, Basil could think of absolutely nothing besides the fact that he seamed to have signed his own death sentence. And just why was Myerricroft grinning so… proudly at him? And the doctor had an odd glow in his eyes as well… Damn! He blamed it all on the girl.

Very well then… he told himself as another strangled weep escaped from the girl. She can stay until we can settle for other more permanent arrangements. But then she's out! But he knew he was kidding himself. There was no escaping this child, not now that he was soaking his favorite bathrobe, nor tomorrow when he'll be taking her to Wells (he wondered if the doctor would mind tagging along) nor the day after that.

But if he still had doubts by the time he threw himself on the bed that night, tired and willing to forget everything that happened in the last three days, then he became certain the moment the sound of little feet were heard entering his room. Basil had no sleep that night… not with the girl sleeping peaceful at his side.

Forget about traffic regulations – we'll be having a VERY serious talk about dealing with nightmares... by OTHER methods.

The End

And here we have it - the end of the road. I intended to add a epilogue as well, but somehow I seem to have incorporated it in the chapter. But still, I was happy writing it and I do hope, you were happy reading it. And if anyone finds the reference I used in this one (as well as in chapter one) then I bow down to your knowladge in the field of classical French literature.

Thank you for reading, and season's greetings to all!