Before my long break from writing, I have had ideas that I wanted to see written and published, but they never did see the light because I wasn't confident about them. I've looked these ideas over a few days ago and found that, while most of them are childish, they're still stories I've written, and I'm quite happy that I managed to think of these.
This is one of the three old stories that I did that I will publish here. Thank you so much for reading what I've written so far, and I hope you like this :DDD
"Thank you, my dear girl; I really appreciate your help."
"It's not a problem, Mrs Primer!"
"Oh, no problem indeed," Sherlock mumbled sarcastically as he struggled a little with the shopping bags; he was attempting to shift around the handle of one of the bags so that it would rest comfortably on his palm, but when he made the move it threatened to slip away, and he barely managed to keep it from falling.
"Oh, dearie - I'm more than thrice your age; calling me 'granny' will do, alright?"
Molly giggled and complied with her request. "Okay then, Granny!"
The girl giggled once more before looking back to Sherlock, whose hands were not only laden with grocery bags, but he was also giving her one of his usual scowls. For a brief moment she felt intimidated, but the old lady beside her looked back as well and smiled at the tall dark-haired teen. "Oh, isn't he strong?" she commented, watching Sherlock help carry her bags. Reluctantly, that was.
Molly blushed a little as she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Well, come on then, dear boy; you're rather slow, aren't you?" Granny half-shouted, indicating with a wave of her hand for him to move faster.
"I would do a whole lot better if Molly were to help?" Agitated and almost at his wit's end, the older boy muttered loudly to himself while shifting the bags in his left hand to a more comfortable position.
Molly heard him, though, and, feeling terribly guilty, started to make her way back to him to help him out, but Granny saw her intention and grabbed her arm; the girl was pulled back as the old woman chided her, "My dear, you are not helping him out; it's not becoming of a gentleman to ask a lady to carry bulky items, you know."
Molly could not help but chuckle a little at that while Sherlock, having finally arrived closer to them, heard what she said, and his scowl deepened tremendously.
He dropped the shopping bags unceremoniously on the concrete floor as he argued, "I require help, or else it will take me more than half the time it would take me to end this tedious journey, judging by the speed in which both of you have-"
"Ramble, ramble. My God, how can you stand him, dear girl!"
Molly wanted to agree with her, but judging by the other teen's gloomy and dark expression at that time, it was better if she were to keep her opinion on the matter to herself for the moment.
"I do not ramble-" Sherlock started, but was unfortunately cut off just as immediately as he had opened his mouth.
"Hush there, boy - you talk too much. When I was your age, boys do not rant as much as you do now. My, my - how things have changed since then."
Sensing a metaphorical dark cloud steadily brewing above her schoolmate's head, Molly interrupted the elder woman. "I think we're near where you are, Granny! Are you able to take the stairs up without aid?"
"Oh I'll manage, dearie; it's just this tiny problem with my groceries and my bad leg, you know - it'll take tremendous effort to get up with those things in my hands, and-"
"Oh yes, fine, Granny - I'll help!" Sherlock huffed out loud, once again picking up the heavy items.
"He will make a sweet boyfriend, don't you think, Molly dear?" Grandma winked at the blushing female.
"We shall not walk through that street again," Sherlock declared angrily as they walked back - more like him stomping his feet as he moved while she trailed behind him - to the direction of the school.
"But you said so yourself I should be more acquainted with the streets of London, and that means exploring," Molly piped in.
"I never meant being acquainted with one old granny on the way!"
"She was nice - she invited us up for tea, even."
"She invited you; don't tell me you've forgotten what I have been doing for the duration of the time we have been in that small flat."
Ignoring the glower given to her by the curly head, Molly almost chuckled at the memory of Sherlock Holmes filling up the old lady's pantry with ingredients while being reprimanded more than twice as to which goes where ("No, dear boy - salt is over there; never put salt and bananas together, I tell you."). Suffice to say, the teen learnt more about keeping his temper and deductions in check during that period of time than when he had to work with Anderson for a week on a school project.
"I was rather impressed that you didn't say one bad thing about Granny, though," Molly spoke, more as an afterthought, recalling that the teen did not once make Granny burst into tears over his blunt observations; in fact, he did not speak of any of his observations at all while they were both there.
"That would be unbecoming of a gentleman, don't you think - making an old lady cry by reminding her that, when she was at the mere age of 26, she only lived less than 3 years with her husband before said husband died of kidney failure at a young age of 30, and that she never remarried due to the belief that no other man was better than her Stuart."
They stopped walking - rather, Molly stopped walking, a hand to her mouth as she absorbed what was said; Sherlock turned around, not without a slightly guilty look on his face. Her eyes glistened as she said softly, "Was that…the truth?"
"When have I not said anything that is not?"
"If you had noticed the pictures laid scattered on the small table when walking into the kitchen, you would have seen a marked resemblance of Stuart to me. I would have made my observations known, but John constantly reminds me of a time and place to do so, and it would have been said as 'not good' at that point in time if I were to carry on with my deductions."
"You reminded her of him; that was why she talked about Stuart while we were there…"
Both continued their way back to school, not without a little melancholic air between them throughout the journey.
"Do you think it would be nice of us to visit her after school?" Molly said, breaking the silence between them as they walked up the stairs. "I mean - after this, I don't know whether I'd like for Granny to be alone."
"A day alone won't make a difference, would it?" Sherlock replied, keeping his agitation in check.
"It won't," she whispered in agreement after a second. "Not since she's been alone for decades before this."
Stopping round the corner to their classroom, Sherlock turned around and stared down at Molly, who was trying to be discrete as she wiped the tears that threatened to roll onto her cheeks. She would not want anyone to see her tearing up, not especially since Sherlock was in front of her - people would talk, and think that he had done something wrong to her, which was far from the truth-
"If it will stop you from feeling any more distraught over the fact that Mrs Primer has been alone for the past 30 years, we can go over to her home after school every alternate day - Monday, Wednesday, Friday; today's Friday, so we can go there after school."
Molly wiped away the last of her tears as she looked up to watch the teen before her frown. "Of course, this means we can further explore the streets - you still need to know London better," he hurried on. "It'll be a win-win situation, I imagine, you being able to-"
Molly leaned upwards to plant a small kiss on the taller boy's left cheek, effectively halting him in his words. "Thank you, Sherlock," she murmured with a smile on her face. "Granny will appreciate the company while it lasts, I'm sure, and I'm happy you would consider visiting her again."
Sherlock wrinkled his nose and blinked a little too rapidly than normal, nodding a tiny nod in answer. As Molly gave him a bigger smile and entered the classroom, he managed to choke out, "But I'm not going to carry any future shopping bags that she might have!"