Fic: Cracks in the In-Between Places, 5/21
Feb. 5th, 2014 08:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
swissmargTitle: Cracks in the In-Between Places
Author:
swissmarg
Beta readers:
ruth0007, billiethepoet
Rating: PG-13
Relationship: John/Sherlock
Word count: ca. 93,500 when complete, this chapter 4,234 words
Summary: AU set in the universe ofnox_candida's Getting Better. John and Sherlock work together to flush out Mary's killers, and Tristram has to come to terms with what his father's new friend means for him. No series 3 spoilers (or series 1 or 2, for that matter).
See chapter one for the complete header with warnings, acknowledgments, disclaimers, and notes.
Chapter 5 on AO3
Chapter Five
Tristram's father walks him both to and from school the next day, but he doesn't so much as talk to Doctor Watson. They are both tense, and say good-bye to Tristram and Emily several metres apart, before going their separate ways. They avoid each other at the end of the school day too. Tristram is worried they've had another argument - although he can't imagine when, unless it was by telephone last night, after Tristram was in bed. Emily says she doesn't know what's going on either.
Tristram wants to ask when he can go to Emily's house after school again (it's more fun than spending all afternoon alone or having to be quiet so his father can work), but he's afraid to say anything because of how their fathers are acting.
Emily doesn't mention anything about going to Uncle Mycroft's the next day. He's not sure if she doesn't know, or if she's being circumspect, but either way it's better that he not say anything. He is still trying to prove to his father that he's trustworthy.
The school rules say that students aren't actually allowed to carry a mobile phone on school grounds (they are supposed to deposit them with the teacher and pick them up at the end of the day), but Tristram's father said what they don't know won't hurt them, which means as long as no one finds out he has the phone in his pocket, it's okay.
Tristram doesn't have a problem with breaking rules if his father tells him it's okay. He knows that some rules are stupid and sometimes it's better to do what you know to be right, no matter what someone else says, even if that someone else is an adult. One time, Inspector Lestrade stood in their living room and yelled at his father that he was already breaking every (and here he said a bad word) rule in the book to get him some information or other, so he'd (another bad word) well better cooperate.
If the police can break rules for a good reason, then so can Tristram.
Still, he's nervous about having his new phone in his pocket, and he keeps fingering it throughout the school day. He has to force himself to stop, finally, when he has the impression that Sebastian is looking at him curiously. Even though Sebastian's pretty much left Tristram alone lately, if he suspects that Tristram has something interesting in his pocket, he'll probably find a way to get it away from him, and either have it confiscated or - worse - take the mobile for himself.
His father spends the afternoon glued to his own mobile, except when he goes out for an hour and a half, and comes back with some egg rolls for Tristram's dinner.
Tristram can tell something is going on, the way his father paces and snarls and scrapes at his violin. He wants to sleep in the living room again, but he's wary of his father's mood. He's been known to break things. So Tristram retreats to his room upstairs and lies awake, listening to the thumps and caterwauling, and thinking that he's looking forward to spending the night at Uncle Mycroft's.
&&&&&&
When Emily comes to school the next day, her school bag looks suspiciously thick.
"It's a secret, but I'm coming with you this afternoon," she whispers to him after their fathers have left, before they go into the school.
"I know," Tristram whispers back. His school bag also has something extra in it for tonight; something that he hopes he doesn't get in trouble with Doctor Watson for bringing along, but that he thinks Emily will like.
Emily giggles and winks before she goes into her classroom. Tristram is uncomfortable. It's just a fun adventure for her, like it was for him going to her house. But he has a feeling there is more to it. He doesn't know if he should share his concerns with her. There's nothing specific he can point to that makes him apprehensive.
At recess, Emily wants more details about Uncle Mycroft: what's his house like? Does he have a butler? Can he get them some plutonium?
Tristram answers quickly (normal; no; unlikely) and looks around guiltily to make sure no one is listening to them. Olivia and Alice are playing some kind of jumping game, and Sebastian and his friends are nowhere to be seen. "No one's supposed to know, remember?" he says.
"I didn't say anything about you know," Emily says.
"I know, but I really think we need to be careful."
"Anyway, I don't see what the big deal is. Unless we could get in trouble because it's a school night."
Tristram is sceptical that that's the reason they need to keep it secret. His father isn't exactly a stickler for making sure Tristram gets a certain number of hours of sleep at night, regardless of the day of the week. "What did your father tell you? About why you and I are... you know?"
Emily shrugs. "Just that he and your dad are going to be out late."
"But why did he say we have to go to my uncle's house?"
"Because it would be fun," Emily says, as if that should be obvious.
"I only mean, you could just as well stay with your aunts, and I could stay with Mrs Hudson," Tristram tries to explain.
Emily looks hurt. "Do you not want me to come?"
"Yes, I do," Tristram insists. His stomach twists unhappily. This is coming out all wrong. He shouldn't have started.
"Are you afraid the other kids will tease you and call me your girlfriend?" she asks accusingly.
"No!"
"I guess that's why your dad told mine to keep it a secret."
Tristram is confused. Was his father trying to protect him after all from the other kids making fun of them? Because it is a little unusual for a girl and a boy their age to play together outside of a larger group. Then again, that doesn't seem at all like the kind of thing his father would even notice, much less care about.
Tristram shakes his head. "I don't think so. Listen, Emily," he says, leaning in close so that no one can even read his lips if they're watching, "I think your dad is helping mine with a case."
Emily frowns. "Really? But he's a doctor, not a detective."
"Sometimes the police need a doctor. To say what someone died of, or... or in case someone gets hurt." His father's come home before with bruises and cuts, sometimes still bleeding. If he's working on a dangerous case, it makes sense that he'd want to have a doctor with him. "What did you think they were doing?"
"Going on a date."
This is an entirely new concept. Tristram knows what a date is, in theory: it's when two people who fancy each other go out and do something together, like have dinner or go to the cinema or go ice skating in Hyde Park. His father never does any of those things on his own (unless it's for a case), much less with someone else. Well, except for eating out; they have meals at Angelo's at least once a month. But he certainly wouldn't call that a date. However, if his father and Doctor Watson went there together and had dinner, then yes, he supposes that would be a date.
The realisation makes him uncomfortable. Angelo's is for him and his father, not for Doctor Watson. It's not that he doesn't like Doctor Watson, or that he doesn't want his father and Emily's father to get on together. He just doesn't want his father to do things with him that he usually only does with Tristram.
But Emily is a girl, and she has some silly ideas, like her aunts. She also thought that his father and Doctor Watson were kissing, but Tristram hasn't seen any evidence to support that theory. And, his father actually told him that he and Doctor Watson were going to be working on a case tonight.
He doesn't have time to explain that, though, since it's time to go back inside.
&&&&&&
After school, Uncle Mycroft's car is already waiting for them when they come out of school. Tristram is relieved to see that Uncle Mycroft himself is sitting in the back seat. He's not sure what he would have done if it had only been the driver. He knows the man by sight, but he doesn't know his name, and he thought he knew Emily's Aunt Claire and look what happened.
Emily bounces excitedly on the seat, even with the seat belt on, and pushes every button within her reach. She starts laughing when she turns on the massage function. "The seat's buzzing!" she exclaims.
"Your little friend is certainly enthusiastic," Uncle Mycroft says with a tight smile as he leans over to retract the roller blinds.
"Where can you shoot the machine guns from?" she asks, opening various flaps and lids to find more compartments and control panels.
Uncle Mycroft looks alarmed. "Excuse me?"
"The machine guns in the headlights. Don't you have any?"
"Ah yes. Well, unfortunately, we aren't allowed to use them within city limits."
"Uncle Mycroft, do you have any plutonium?" Tristram asks.
Uncle Mycroft's eyebrows shoot up even further. "What an extraordinary request. I'm not sure, I'll have to check. What would you be needing it for?"
"To power our time machine," Tristram explains.
"Oh, I see," Uncle Mycroft says with great gravity. "Do you know, I believe two double-A batteries will do just as well. Perhaps four, if you wish to go back more than a hundred years. Young lady, please leave the ventilation system alone, it's stifling in here as it is."
By the time they pull into the underground garage at Uncle Mycroft's house, he is mopping his brow. He exchanges a pointed look with his driver as he instructs him to return all the controls to their usual settings, then leads Tristram and Emily toward the lift, swinging his ubiquitous umbrella.
"Do you have a sword in your umbrella?" Emily asks.
"Yes, and it's extremely sharp," Uncle Mycroft says with a gleam in his eye. "The last little girl to ask to see it left with only eight fingers, I'm afraid."
"Cool," Emily says.
Tristram grins at her. He knows that Uncle Mycroft's just kidding. Almost a hundred percent certain, anyway.
Uncle Mycroft tells Tristram to show Emily around while he takes care of some business, and to come to his office in half an hour to start their homework.
They go to the kitchen first, because Tristram knows where Uncle Mycroft keeps the biscuits. He always has fancy ones in cello-wrapped boxes, filled with jam or caramel and coated with chocolate or sprinkled with coconut. They eat exactly half a box together, six biscuits each. Emily wants milk with hers, but all they find in the fridge is something called Provamel, which looks like milk, but she has to spit it out after the first sip.
After they wash their sticky fingers, they explore the house. Or rather, Emily explores, while Tristram trots along a couple of steps behind her, half apprehensive that she'll get into something she shouldn't, and half excited to see what happens when she does.
There's the lounge, the formal reception room, and the winter garden, of course. They skip Uncle Mycroft's office for the time being, and go on to the library, which Tristram is especially keen for Emily to like, because it's his personal favourite. She's duly impressed by the tall stacks of books, but she doesn't really get enthusiastic until Tristram pulls out an unassuming book with a crumbling brown cover. Inside, on thick yellow pages separated by thin layers of tissue paper, are the most wonderful, delicately coloured illustrations of lumpy giants and dragons with gossamer wings, wizened old men and hunchbacked crones.
Emily flips back to look at the title page. " 'Grimm's Fairy Tales, illustrated by Arthur Rackham'. What's this?"
"Fairy tales, you know: Rapunzel, Ashenputtel, Rumpelstiltskin..."
Emily laughs. "What language is that?"
"German, I think. But the stories are in English." Tristram carefully turns the brittle pages.
"I know that one!" Emily exclaims, pointing at one of the pictures. "That's Little Red Riding Hood." They turn a few more pages. "And that one's Hansel and Gretel."
They pore over the old book, Emily trying to match up the antique illustrations with the versions she knows from her own nursery books, and Tristram briefly explaining the stories she's never heard of. They end up completely losing track of time, until they hear Uncle Mycroft clearing his throat behind them.
"I believe it's time to start on your homework," he says sternly, but one side of his mouth is quirked up.
Tristram returns the book to its place, and together they follow Uncle Mycroft back to his office.
Emily actually finishes her homework first, and Uncle Mycroft lets her investigate the big floor globe with bumps where the mountains are while Tristram finishes answering his reading questions.
After that, the three of them go to the reception room, where the piano is. Uncle Mycroft sits to the side and allows Emily and Tristram to plunk around on it for a while.
"Uncle Mycroft," Tristram asks as Emily tries to sound out 'Yellow Submarine', "what are Father and Doctor Watson doing tonight?"
Emily's finger hesitates just a moment too long before the next note.
"What did they tell you they were doing?" Uncle Mycroft asks.
"Going out," Emily says at the same time as Tristram answers, "Working on a case." They grin at each other and turn to Uncle Mycroft to see how he will referee the disagreement.
Uncle Mycroft makes a sound that Tristram knows means he's dissatisfied with something Father has done. "I think you can take them at their word," he says diplomatically.
"So they are working on a case," Tristram says, "not going on a date." It's not that he wants to point out that Emily was wrong. He just wants the situation to be clear.
Uncle Mycroft chuckles. "Perceptions may differ," he says, "but I believe, strictly speaking, in the sense you mean, it is neither a case nor a date. They are, shall we say, taking care of some unfinished business. Beyond that, you should speak directly to your fathers if you want any more details."
Tristram understands from his uncle's tone of voice that he's not going to say anything more on the subject.
Emily, however, asks, "Why does my father need to go with him, then? He's a doctor, not a detective."
"Your father, young lady, is a man of many talents. Now, if you would be so kind as to stand up, Tristram and I will regale you with Beethoven's Sonata for Four Hands."
Emily gets up and leans against the side of the piano, where she can still see, and Uncle Mycroft slides onto the piano seat beside Tristram. Tristram knows he plays pretty well, but he's nervous about what Emily will think. Beethoven's Sonata for Four Hands is a far cry from the Beatles.
Uncle Mycroft sets up the music and turns on the metronome - slower than the piece would be played in concert, but still fast enough to be challenging for Tristram - then counts down one measure to start. Tristram tries to keep his eyes focused on his own fingers, but he's distracted by Emily hanging over the piano, watching their hands, and he stumbles a few times.
When they get to the end, Tristram's face is burning. He can really play better than that. He's about to apologise for messing up when Emily exclaims, "Wow, you're really good!"
Tristram's embarrassment abates somewhat, and he looks at her shyly. "Really? I missed some of the notes."
"I couldn't tell," Emily assures him. "How can you get your fingers to hit all the keys at the right time like that?"
Tristram shrugs, but Uncle Mycroft answers smugly, "Practice. And not a little natural talent."
"Can you play 'When I'm Sixty-Four'?"
Tristram doesn't know what she's talking about, but Uncle Mycroft laughs. "Not in my repertoire, I'm afraid. You are truly your father's daughter, aren't you?"
That comment doesn't make any sense, either, because who else's daughter would she be? But it's apparently one of those questions that you're not really meant to answer, because Uncle Mycroft goes on to say: "Why don't we try it once more, Tristram, and this time, concentrate and watch the fingering on the crossovers."
"Okay," Tristram says, and the second time it goes better.
Usually, when it's just he and his uncle, they play for at least an hour, but Tristram can tell Emily's getting restless, and Uncle Mycroft sends them off shortly after that to amuse themselves until it's time for dinner.
Tristram stays at Uncle Mycroft's often enough that he has his own drawer in the guest bedroom with a set of pajamas, a couple of changes of clothes and toothbrush. Emily's going to sleep in the guest room, too, so there's already a fold-out bed set up crosswise at the foot of the main bed. Tristram says he'll take the fold-out bed, since Emily's the guest.
"Actually, we're both guests," Emily points out, but happily plops down on the big bed and bounces around a few times. "Your uncle's pretty funny," she says.
Tristram doesn't really think of Uncle Mycroft as 'funny', but he's glad that Emily seems to have warmed to him.
There's an en suite bath attached to the guest room, and when Emily goes in to check it out, she calls to Tristram to join her. "Let's make a potion!" she says.
Tristram goes in to find her collecting personal hygiene products and cleaning supplies from the shower, medicine cabinet, and under the sink.
"What are you doing?" he asks, watching her half warily and half with excitement. Emily always has such good ideas.
"Let's pretend this is Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and we're brewing Polyjuice Potion. Look." She lines everything up on the surface next to the sink. "Do you remember what's in it?"
"Boomslang skin," Tristram says. He remembers because it's what Hermione stole from Snape's office.
"That can be this." Emily reaches over and rips off a square of toilet paper. "What else? Lacewing flies... What can we use for that?"
If they were at Tristram's house, they could use actual flies. There are always a few dead ones lying on the window sills. But Uncle Mycroft has a cleaner. Still, Tristram has an idea. He picks up the bar of soap and scrapes some off with his nails.
"How about this?" He shakes the shavings out from under his nails onto the counter.
Emily beams. "Brill! What else?"
Tristram doesn't remember any more specific ingredients, and neither does Emily, but they say there's dragon blood (green mouthwash) and stewed newt's eyes (pink shampoo) and half a dozen other things, which they mix together in the toothbrush cup. They stir it with a comb, because Tristram draws the line at using his toothbrush, even the back end of it, which was Emily's first suggestion.
As their final ingredient, they each add one of their hairs. It doesn't end up smelling half bad, and it's probably a more cheerful colour than real Polyjuice Potion, but it's lumpy and thick, and by the time they're done, Tristram is quite pleased with the result. He reckons it's worth at least an E, if not an O.
They know better than to really taste it, so they dump it down the toilet, and try to replicate Pepperup Potion next.
By the time Uncle Mycroft comes to find them for dinner, they've used up all the toothpaste and most of the shampoo, and there are white smears on the mirror from where the shaving cream got out of hand. He doesn't actually come into the bathroom, though, so they are spared his opinion on having turned it into a potions laboratory.
They have pink fish and green peas, which Emily will only eat doused with mayonnaise. Uncle Mycroft gives her a pained look and chews each carefully cut bite twenty times (Tristram counts).
After dinner, Uncle Mycroft sends them up to get ready for bed, even though it's only seven-thirty. Tristram doesn't complain; he's never had a regular bedtime, and is used to being sequestered in his room for the night long before he's ready to go to sleep. Emily, though, says seven-thirty is for babies, and hints that Uncle Mycroft isn't as progressive as she first thought.
They take turns changing in the guest bathroom; Tristram rinses out the toothbrush cup thoroughly and does his best to wipe the mirror clean of the rest of the shaving cream after brushing his teeth. When he returns to the bedroom, he finds Emily sitting cross-legged on the big bed, holding her mobile.
"What are you doing?" Tristram asks.
"Do you think it'd be okay if I call my dad?"
Tristram bounces down onto the bed next to her. "They're working."
"I've called my dad at work lots of times. He doesn't mind."
Tristram has never even considered the possibility of calling his father when he was out working. Not that he had a phone to do so with before. Of course his father made him memorise his mobile number practically as soon as he could talk, in case he got lost, but he can't actually recall a time when he's had occasion to use it. He doesn't think his father would take kindly to being interrupted for something that's not an emergency, however, and he tells Emily so.
She looks unhappy, but doesn't push the point. "I just want to know what they're doing," she says in a small voice, and he knows she doesn't mean whether they're kissing or arguing, but whether they're safe.
Tristram can't help with that, but he thinks he should do something to make her feel better, because that's what friends do. If Doctor Watson were here, he'd give her a hug, but Tristram doesn't feel comfortable doing that. Instead, he puts a hand on her knee, because that's what his father does when Tristram needs reassurance (either that or his shoulder, but Tristram can't reach Emily's shoulder as easily from where he's sitting). He wonders if this is how his father feels when Tristram needs to be comforted. Maybe it explains why he doesn't hug and cuddle him more, the way Doctor Watson does with Emily.
"They're probably just looking for something, or talking to someone," Tristram says. From what he's heard his father talking about with clients and the police, that's what most of his work consists of, aside from doing things on the computer.
"You don't think they're chasing after any bad guys?" Emily asks.
Honestly, he can't be certain, and he doesn't want to say something that isn't true, so he tells her, "Even if they are, they'll be okay. They'll be back later tonight and we'll see them tomorrow."
Although he can't be completely certain of that, either. Not really. He knows, in the back of his mind - a thought that he never, never lets himself think to its completion - that there might be a time when his father doesn't come back, when he's not okay. He knows, back there in that secret place, that's why Uncle Mycroft insisted that he play a role in Tristram's life, and why his father agreed to it, even though he would have liked nothing more than to cut his brother off completely. (Tristram never has understood why his father hates Uncle Mycroft so much.)
But Emily seems to be satisfied by his answer, as it coincides with her own hopes and weights the evidence against her own secret fears.
"Hey, I brought something," Tristram says, both to distract her and because he was planning on getting the book out anyway. He gets off the bed and goes to his school bag, which is on the chair by the dresser.
When he comes back, he's grinning and holding the library book he's in the middle of reading.
"The Goblet of Fire!" Emily exclaims. But then her face falls a bit. "But my dad doesn't want me to read it."
Tristram settles himself on the bed again. "My father didn't want me to read any of them, but I did anyway, and he wasn't angry. And if I read it to you, then you're not actually reading it, are you?" He smiles at her slyly. Tristram's pretty pleased with himself for coming up with this workaround.
Emily's face twists in indecision as she looks longingly at the book, clearly torn between not wanting to disobey her father and her own inquisitive nature.
"Anyway, I've already told you the beginning," Tristram adds. "And the part with the Death Eaters, and you said yourself it was less scary than the other books."
Emily seems to find this justification acceptable, and says, "Okay, but start at the very beginning, and only read the parts you already told me about."
Tristram grins and opens the book. "Great. Here we go: 'The villagers of Little Hangleton still called it "the Riddle House..."'"
Go to chapter 6
Author:
Beta readers:
ruth0007, billiethepoetRating: PG-13
Relationship: John/Sherlock
Word count: ca. 93,500 when complete, this chapter 4,234 words
Summary: AU set in the universe of
nox_candida's Getting Better. John and Sherlock work together to flush out Mary's killers, and Tristram has to come to terms with what his father's new friend means for him. No series 3 spoilers (or series 1 or 2, for that matter).See chapter one for the complete header with warnings, acknowledgments, disclaimers, and notes.
Chapter 5 on AO3
Chapter Five
Tristram's father walks him both to and from school the next day, but he doesn't so much as talk to Doctor Watson. They are both tense, and say good-bye to Tristram and Emily several metres apart, before going their separate ways. They avoid each other at the end of the school day too. Tristram is worried they've had another argument - although he can't imagine when, unless it was by telephone last night, after Tristram was in bed. Emily says she doesn't know what's going on either.
Tristram wants to ask when he can go to Emily's house after school again (it's more fun than spending all afternoon alone or having to be quiet so his father can work), but he's afraid to say anything because of how their fathers are acting.
Emily doesn't mention anything about going to Uncle Mycroft's the next day. He's not sure if she doesn't know, or if she's being circumspect, but either way it's better that he not say anything. He is still trying to prove to his father that he's trustworthy.
The school rules say that students aren't actually allowed to carry a mobile phone on school grounds (they are supposed to deposit them with the teacher and pick them up at the end of the day), but Tristram's father said what they don't know won't hurt them, which means as long as no one finds out he has the phone in his pocket, it's okay.
Tristram doesn't have a problem with breaking rules if his father tells him it's okay. He knows that some rules are stupid and sometimes it's better to do what you know to be right, no matter what someone else says, even if that someone else is an adult. One time, Inspector Lestrade stood in their living room and yelled at his father that he was already breaking every (and here he said a bad word) rule in the book to get him some information or other, so he'd (another bad word) well better cooperate.
If the police can break rules for a good reason, then so can Tristram.
Still, he's nervous about having his new phone in his pocket, and he keeps fingering it throughout the school day. He has to force himself to stop, finally, when he has the impression that Sebastian is looking at him curiously. Even though Sebastian's pretty much left Tristram alone lately, if he suspects that Tristram has something interesting in his pocket, he'll probably find a way to get it away from him, and either have it confiscated or - worse - take the mobile for himself.
His father spends the afternoon glued to his own mobile, except when he goes out for an hour and a half, and comes back with some egg rolls for Tristram's dinner.
Tristram can tell something is going on, the way his father paces and snarls and scrapes at his violin. He wants to sleep in the living room again, but he's wary of his father's mood. He's been known to break things. So Tristram retreats to his room upstairs and lies awake, listening to the thumps and caterwauling, and thinking that he's looking forward to spending the night at Uncle Mycroft's.
&&&&&&
When Emily comes to school the next day, her school bag looks suspiciously thick.
"It's a secret, but I'm coming with you this afternoon," she whispers to him after their fathers have left, before they go into the school.
"I know," Tristram whispers back. His school bag also has something extra in it for tonight; something that he hopes he doesn't get in trouble with Doctor Watson for bringing along, but that he thinks Emily will like.
Emily giggles and winks before she goes into her classroom. Tristram is uncomfortable. It's just a fun adventure for her, like it was for him going to her house. But he has a feeling there is more to it. He doesn't know if he should share his concerns with her. There's nothing specific he can point to that makes him apprehensive.
At recess, Emily wants more details about Uncle Mycroft: what's his house like? Does he have a butler? Can he get them some plutonium?
Tristram answers quickly (normal; no; unlikely) and looks around guiltily to make sure no one is listening to them. Olivia and Alice are playing some kind of jumping game, and Sebastian and his friends are nowhere to be seen. "No one's supposed to know, remember?" he says.
"I didn't say anything about you know," Emily says.
"I know, but I really think we need to be careful."
"Anyway, I don't see what the big deal is. Unless we could get in trouble because it's a school night."
Tristram is sceptical that that's the reason they need to keep it secret. His father isn't exactly a stickler for making sure Tristram gets a certain number of hours of sleep at night, regardless of the day of the week. "What did your father tell you? About why you and I are... you know?"
Emily shrugs. "Just that he and your dad are going to be out late."
"But why did he say we have to go to my uncle's house?"
"Because it would be fun," Emily says, as if that should be obvious.
"I only mean, you could just as well stay with your aunts, and I could stay with Mrs Hudson," Tristram tries to explain.
Emily looks hurt. "Do you not want me to come?"
"Yes, I do," Tristram insists. His stomach twists unhappily. This is coming out all wrong. He shouldn't have started.
"Are you afraid the other kids will tease you and call me your girlfriend?" she asks accusingly.
"No!"
"I guess that's why your dad told mine to keep it a secret."
Tristram is confused. Was his father trying to protect him after all from the other kids making fun of them? Because it is a little unusual for a girl and a boy their age to play together outside of a larger group. Then again, that doesn't seem at all like the kind of thing his father would even notice, much less care about.
Tristram shakes his head. "I don't think so. Listen, Emily," he says, leaning in close so that no one can even read his lips if they're watching, "I think your dad is helping mine with a case."
Emily frowns. "Really? But he's a doctor, not a detective."
"Sometimes the police need a doctor. To say what someone died of, or... or in case someone gets hurt." His father's come home before with bruises and cuts, sometimes still bleeding. If he's working on a dangerous case, it makes sense that he'd want to have a doctor with him. "What did you think they were doing?"
"Going on a date."
This is an entirely new concept. Tristram knows what a date is, in theory: it's when two people who fancy each other go out and do something together, like have dinner or go to the cinema or go ice skating in Hyde Park. His father never does any of those things on his own (unless it's for a case), much less with someone else. Well, except for eating out; they have meals at Angelo's at least once a month. But he certainly wouldn't call that a date. However, if his father and Doctor Watson went there together and had dinner, then yes, he supposes that would be a date.
The realisation makes him uncomfortable. Angelo's is for him and his father, not for Doctor Watson. It's not that he doesn't like Doctor Watson, or that he doesn't want his father and Emily's father to get on together. He just doesn't want his father to do things with him that he usually only does with Tristram.
But Emily is a girl, and she has some silly ideas, like her aunts. She also thought that his father and Doctor Watson were kissing, but Tristram hasn't seen any evidence to support that theory. And, his father actually told him that he and Doctor Watson were going to be working on a case tonight.
He doesn't have time to explain that, though, since it's time to go back inside.
&&&&&&
After school, Uncle Mycroft's car is already waiting for them when they come out of school. Tristram is relieved to see that Uncle Mycroft himself is sitting in the back seat. He's not sure what he would have done if it had only been the driver. He knows the man by sight, but he doesn't know his name, and he thought he knew Emily's Aunt Claire and look what happened.
Emily bounces excitedly on the seat, even with the seat belt on, and pushes every button within her reach. She starts laughing when she turns on the massage function. "The seat's buzzing!" she exclaims.
"Your little friend is certainly enthusiastic," Uncle Mycroft says with a tight smile as he leans over to retract the roller blinds.
"Where can you shoot the machine guns from?" she asks, opening various flaps and lids to find more compartments and control panels.
Uncle Mycroft looks alarmed. "Excuse me?"
"The machine guns in the headlights. Don't you have any?"
"Ah yes. Well, unfortunately, we aren't allowed to use them within city limits."
"Uncle Mycroft, do you have any plutonium?" Tristram asks.
Uncle Mycroft's eyebrows shoot up even further. "What an extraordinary request. I'm not sure, I'll have to check. What would you be needing it for?"
"To power our time machine," Tristram explains.
"Oh, I see," Uncle Mycroft says with great gravity. "Do you know, I believe two double-A batteries will do just as well. Perhaps four, if you wish to go back more than a hundred years. Young lady, please leave the ventilation system alone, it's stifling in here as it is."
By the time they pull into the underground garage at Uncle Mycroft's house, he is mopping his brow. He exchanges a pointed look with his driver as he instructs him to return all the controls to their usual settings, then leads Tristram and Emily toward the lift, swinging his ubiquitous umbrella.
"Do you have a sword in your umbrella?" Emily asks.
"Yes, and it's extremely sharp," Uncle Mycroft says with a gleam in his eye. "The last little girl to ask to see it left with only eight fingers, I'm afraid."
"Cool," Emily says.
Tristram grins at her. He knows that Uncle Mycroft's just kidding. Almost a hundred percent certain, anyway.
Uncle Mycroft tells Tristram to show Emily around while he takes care of some business, and to come to his office in half an hour to start their homework.
They go to the kitchen first, because Tristram knows where Uncle Mycroft keeps the biscuits. He always has fancy ones in cello-wrapped boxes, filled with jam or caramel and coated with chocolate or sprinkled with coconut. They eat exactly half a box together, six biscuits each. Emily wants milk with hers, but all they find in the fridge is something called Provamel, which looks like milk, but she has to spit it out after the first sip.
After they wash their sticky fingers, they explore the house. Or rather, Emily explores, while Tristram trots along a couple of steps behind her, half apprehensive that she'll get into something she shouldn't, and half excited to see what happens when she does.
There's the lounge, the formal reception room, and the winter garden, of course. They skip Uncle Mycroft's office for the time being, and go on to the library, which Tristram is especially keen for Emily to like, because it's his personal favourite. She's duly impressed by the tall stacks of books, but she doesn't really get enthusiastic until Tristram pulls out an unassuming book with a crumbling brown cover. Inside, on thick yellow pages separated by thin layers of tissue paper, are the most wonderful, delicately coloured illustrations of lumpy giants and dragons with gossamer wings, wizened old men and hunchbacked crones.
Emily flips back to look at the title page. " 'Grimm's Fairy Tales, illustrated by Arthur Rackham'. What's this?"
"Fairy tales, you know: Rapunzel, Ashenputtel, Rumpelstiltskin..."
Emily laughs. "What language is that?"
"German, I think. But the stories are in English." Tristram carefully turns the brittle pages.
"I know that one!" Emily exclaims, pointing at one of the pictures. "That's Little Red Riding Hood." They turn a few more pages. "And that one's Hansel and Gretel."
They pore over the old book, Emily trying to match up the antique illustrations with the versions she knows from her own nursery books, and Tristram briefly explaining the stories she's never heard of. They end up completely losing track of time, until they hear Uncle Mycroft clearing his throat behind them.
"I believe it's time to start on your homework," he says sternly, but one side of his mouth is quirked up.
Tristram returns the book to its place, and together they follow Uncle Mycroft back to his office.
Emily actually finishes her homework first, and Uncle Mycroft lets her investigate the big floor globe with bumps where the mountains are while Tristram finishes answering his reading questions.
After that, the three of them go to the reception room, where the piano is. Uncle Mycroft sits to the side and allows Emily and Tristram to plunk around on it for a while.
"Uncle Mycroft," Tristram asks as Emily tries to sound out 'Yellow Submarine', "what are Father and Doctor Watson doing tonight?"
Emily's finger hesitates just a moment too long before the next note.
"What did they tell you they were doing?" Uncle Mycroft asks.
"Going out," Emily says at the same time as Tristram answers, "Working on a case." They grin at each other and turn to Uncle Mycroft to see how he will referee the disagreement.
Uncle Mycroft makes a sound that Tristram knows means he's dissatisfied with something Father has done. "I think you can take them at their word," he says diplomatically.
"So they are working on a case," Tristram says, "not going on a date." It's not that he wants to point out that Emily was wrong. He just wants the situation to be clear.
Uncle Mycroft chuckles. "Perceptions may differ," he says, "but I believe, strictly speaking, in the sense you mean, it is neither a case nor a date. They are, shall we say, taking care of some unfinished business. Beyond that, you should speak directly to your fathers if you want any more details."
Tristram understands from his uncle's tone of voice that he's not going to say anything more on the subject.
Emily, however, asks, "Why does my father need to go with him, then? He's a doctor, not a detective."
"Your father, young lady, is a man of many talents. Now, if you would be so kind as to stand up, Tristram and I will regale you with Beethoven's Sonata for Four Hands."
Emily gets up and leans against the side of the piano, where she can still see, and Uncle Mycroft slides onto the piano seat beside Tristram. Tristram knows he plays pretty well, but he's nervous about what Emily will think. Beethoven's Sonata for Four Hands is a far cry from the Beatles.
Uncle Mycroft sets up the music and turns on the metronome - slower than the piece would be played in concert, but still fast enough to be challenging for Tristram - then counts down one measure to start. Tristram tries to keep his eyes focused on his own fingers, but he's distracted by Emily hanging over the piano, watching their hands, and he stumbles a few times.
When they get to the end, Tristram's face is burning. He can really play better than that. He's about to apologise for messing up when Emily exclaims, "Wow, you're really good!"
Tristram's embarrassment abates somewhat, and he looks at her shyly. "Really? I missed some of the notes."
"I couldn't tell," Emily assures him. "How can you get your fingers to hit all the keys at the right time like that?"
Tristram shrugs, but Uncle Mycroft answers smugly, "Practice. And not a little natural talent."
"Can you play 'When I'm Sixty-Four'?"
Tristram doesn't know what she's talking about, but Uncle Mycroft laughs. "Not in my repertoire, I'm afraid. You are truly your father's daughter, aren't you?"
That comment doesn't make any sense, either, because who else's daughter would she be? But it's apparently one of those questions that you're not really meant to answer, because Uncle Mycroft goes on to say: "Why don't we try it once more, Tristram, and this time, concentrate and watch the fingering on the crossovers."
"Okay," Tristram says, and the second time it goes better.
Usually, when it's just he and his uncle, they play for at least an hour, but Tristram can tell Emily's getting restless, and Uncle Mycroft sends them off shortly after that to amuse themselves until it's time for dinner.
Tristram stays at Uncle Mycroft's often enough that he has his own drawer in the guest bedroom with a set of pajamas, a couple of changes of clothes and toothbrush. Emily's going to sleep in the guest room, too, so there's already a fold-out bed set up crosswise at the foot of the main bed. Tristram says he'll take the fold-out bed, since Emily's the guest.
"Actually, we're both guests," Emily points out, but happily plops down on the big bed and bounces around a few times. "Your uncle's pretty funny," she says.
Tristram doesn't really think of Uncle Mycroft as 'funny', but he's glad that Emily seems to have warmed to him.
There's an en suite bath attached to the guest room, and when Emily goes in to check it out, she calls to Tristram to join her. "Let's make a potion!" she says.
Tristram goes in to find her collecting personal hygiene products and cleaning supplies from the shower, medicine cabinet, and under the sink.
"What are you doing?" he asks, watching her half warily and half with excitement. Emily always has such good ideas.
"Let's pretend this is Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and we're brewing Polyjuice Potion. Look." She lines everything up on the surface next to the sink. "Do you remember what's in it?"
"Boomslang skin," Tristram says. He remembers because it's what Hermione stole from Snape's office.
"That can be this." Emily reaches over and rips off a square of toilet paper. "What else? Lacewing flies... What can we use for that?"
If they were at Tristram's house, they could use actual flies. There are always a few dead ones lying on the window sills. But Uncle Mycroft has a cleaner. Still, Tristram has an idea. He picks up the bar of soap and scrapes some off with his nails.
"How about this?" He shakes the shavings out from under his nails onto the counter.
Emily beams. "Brill! What else?"
Tristram doesn't remember any more specific ingredients, and neither does Emily, but they say there's dragon blood (green mouthwash) and stewed newt's eyes (pink shampoo) and half a dozen other things, which they mix together in the toothbrush cup. They stir it with a comb, because Tristram draws the line at using his toothbrush, even the back end of it, which was Emily's first suggestion.
As their final ingredient, they each add one of their hairs. It doesn't end up smelling half bad, and it's probably a more cheerful colour than real Polyjuice Potion, but it's lumpy and thick, and by the time they're done, Tristram is quite pleased with the result. He reckons it's worth at least an E, if not an O.
They know better than to really taste it, so they dump it down the toilet, and try to replicate Pepperup Potion next.
By the time Uncle Mycroft comes to find them for dinner, they've used up all the toothpaste and most of the shampoo, and there are white smears on the mirror from where the shaving cream got out of hand. He doesn't actually come into the bathroom, though, so they are spared his opinion on having turned it into a potions laboratory.
They have pink fish and green peas, which Emily will only eat doused with mayonnaise. Uncle Mycroft gives her a pained look and chews each carefully cut bite twenty times (Tristram counts).
After dinner, Uncle Mycroft sends them up to get ready for bed, even though it's only seven-thirty. Tristram doesn't complain; he's never had a regular bedtime, and is used to being sequestered in his room for the night long before he's ready to go to sleep. Emily, though, says seven-thirty is for babies, and hints that Uncle Mycroft isn't as progressive as she first thought.
They take turns changing in the guest bathroom; Tristram rinses out the toothbrush cup thoroughly and does his best to wipe the mirror clean of the rest of the shaving cream after brushing his teeth. When he returns to the bedroom, he finds Emily sitting cross-legged on the big bed, holding her mobile.
"What are you doing?" Tristram asks.
"Do you think it'd be okay if I call my dad?"
Tristram bounces down onto the bed next to her. "They're working."
"I've called my dad at work lots of times. He doesn't mind."
Tristram has never even considered the possibility of calling his father when he was out working. Not that he had a phone to do so with before. Of course his father made him memorise his mobile number practically as soon as he could talk, in case he got lost, but he can't actually recall a time when he's had occasion to use it. He doesn't think his father would take kindly to being interrupted for something that's not an emergency, however, and he tells Emily so.
She looks unhappy, but doesn't push the point. "I just want to know what they're doing," she says in a small voice, and he knows she doesn't mean whether they're kissing or arguing, but whether they're safe.
Tristram can't help with that, but he thinks he should do something to make her feel better, because that's what friends do. If Doctor Watson were here, he'd give her a hug, but Tristram doesn't feel comfortable doing that. Instead, he puts a hand on her knee, because that's what his father does when Tristram needs reassurance (either that or his shoulder, but Tristram can't reach Emily's shoulder as easily from where he's sitting). He wonders if this is how his father feels when Tristram needs to be comforted. Maybe it explains why he doesn't hug and cuddle him more, the way Doctor Watson does with Emily.
"They're probably just looking for something, or talking to someone," Tristram says. From what he's heard his father talking about with clients and the police, that's what most of his work consists of, aside from doing things on the computer.
"You don't think they're chasing after any bad guys?" Emily asks.
Honestly, he can't be certain, and he doesn't want to say something that isn't true, so he tells her, "Even if they are, they'll be okay. They'll be back later tonight and we'll see them tomorrow."
Although he can't be completely certain of that, either. Not really. He knows, in the back of his mind - a thought that he never, never lets himself think to its completion - that there might be a time when his father doesn't come back, when he's not okay. He knows, back there in that secret place, that's why Uncle Mycroft insisted that he play a role in Tristram's life, and why his father agreed to it, even though he would have liked nothing more than to cut his brother off completely. (Tristram never has understood why his father hates Uncle Mycroft so much.)
But Emily seems to be satisfied by his answer, as it coincides with her own hopes and weights the evidence against her own secret fears.
"Hey, I brought something," Tristram says, both to distract her and because he was planning on getting the book out anyway. He gets off the bed and goes to his school bag, which is on the chair by the dresser.
When he comes back, he's grinning and holding the library book he's in the middle of reading.
"The Goblet of Fire!" Emily exclaims. But then her face falls a bit. "But my dad doesn't want me to read it."
Tristram settles himself on the bed again. "My father didn't want me to read any of them, but I did anyway, and he wasn't angry. And if I read it to you, then you're not actually reading it, are you?" He smiles at her slyly. Tristram's pretty pleased with himself for coming up with this workaround.
Emily's face twists in indecision as she looks longingly at the book, clearly torn between not wanting to disobey her father and her own inquisitive nature.
"Anyway, I've already told you the beginning," Tristram adds. "And the part with the Death Eaters, and you said yourself it was less scary than the other books."
Emily seems to find this justification acceptable, and says, "Okay, but start at the very beginning, and only read the parts you already told me about."
Tristram grins and opens the book. "Great. Here we go: 'The villagers of Little Hangleton still called it "the Riddle House..."'"
&&&&&&
Go to chapter 6
