Three taps - that's what she did to focus.
"And I think you'll be very happy here, Irena," the old lady finished graciously.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Do you have any words? Anything you would like to say?"
Eyes: grey? Slight wrinkles in the corner, but not of smiling, too deep, not curved – so wrinkles from squinting. But why? Glasses around the neck, folded, not dirty in fact, a new lens...interesting.
"Irena," her aunt hissed angrily. "Answer Mrs Greys."
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Gold wedding ring, no engagement ring on the bottom. Simple band, slightly dirtied around the edge but not because it was worn, or because it was overworn, but because it was kept in a dirty box. Why? Not an affair from her husband, way too obvious…unless…
"Does he know?" Irena suddenly asked loudly. Her aunt immediately covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.
"Does who know?" Mrs Greys spluttered.
"Your husband, AKA Mr Greys, does he know about your affair yet?" Mrs Greys' mouth opened wide.
Old lipstick, slightly stained around the edges, rouge, not more than a few days old. But not the same shade as the one she's wearing now, that's magenta. Either a sudden spontaneous change of colour in the last day and she didn't wipe the rouge properly or…oh dear.
"It's okay," Irena reached out and tapped her elderly hand gently. "The suffragettes died for this kind of thing to be accepted. Well technically they didn't but-"
"I'm not sure I follow-"
"I am of course referencing to the affair that you are having with another woman right under your husband's nose. Another woman, must be someone you don't see regularly, so someone outside of this school, someone once a week or else she would know you're married and stay clear. I'm going to say…ah lucky guess, opticians?" Irena leaned forward then, her chin pressed against her palm, intrigued.
"Please, ignore her," Aunt Rosa whispered to a totally stunned Mrs Greys,
"It's the optician, isn't it? Oh I AM good, that would clearly explain the squinting… the squinting of the eyes when you have perfectly good brand new glasses around your neck – you purposely don't use the glasses so that your eyesight gets worse and you have an excuse to keep going back but…oh dear, you do have to stop tucking your wedding ring in that dingy little box in the corner of your bedroom because it is getting a little grubby." Irena leaned back in her chair and turned to beam at her aunt. "Yes I think I will be more than happy here."
"What did I tell you about doing that, Irena? That is the fourth school that has automatically rejected you, thanks to your 'fine talents'," Aunt Rosa scolded as she steered her niece into the awaiting car and slammed the metallic door behind her. Irena sighed, leaning back on the plush leather car seat.
"Oh come on, that was a good solve," she yawned. Irena began fiddling with her lighter, flicking it on and off much to her aunt's irritation. "It was the optician, such a lucky guess!"
"Seriously how do you expect to be normal if you keep dissecting everyone's lives?" Aunt Rosa continued to rant. She sat in the drivers seat and shut the door, starting the ignition.
"It's not really as bad as you make it out to be!" Irena held up her hands defensively.
"Not bad, Irena? Right, the head teacher who was a part time stripper?" Aunt Rosa began to tick them all off with her slender fingers.
"Oho, that was good. That was very good," Irena hummed distractedly. She carried on flicking the lighter on and off.
"Then there was the head teacher who secretly did heroin before and after school," Aunt Rosa continued, closing her eyes at the memory.
"Ah she was a lot of fun but also really easy – who leaves the number of her drug dealer just lying around?" Irena scoffed, turning to face her aunt properly. Aunt Rosa let out a groan at this comment.
"It wasn't just 'lying around' though, was it Irena? It was inside her drawer, which was closed, under lock and key!"
"Was it? Oh, I didn't notice," Irena muttered, staring out of the window. Honestly, she didn't understand how what she was doing was so wrong when she prided herself in her work. Well, that's what everyone did to her father, so why it couldn't be the same for her she would never understand.
"Irena I need you to –"
"Be more like my cousin?" Irena guessed hotly. Her aunt wasn't ready for the words to ever tumble from her lips and so almost crashed the car into an oncoming truck carrying oil. The wheels of the car screeched as Aunt Rosa quickly skidded away. "I would prefer not to die today, if that's possible."
"Get out of the car," her aunt hissed so severely that it almost caught Irena off guard. But she composed herself quickly.
"The pleasure is all mine. I swear sometimes I think the wrong family members died in that fire," she muttered, before recklessly opening the door in the middle of traffic and swinging herself straight out. If she couldn't find anyone who would accept her for who she was here, she would surely find them somewhere else.
A/N: Yes, here we go again! Sherlock's daughter is here and I'm ready to write a story full of wit, drama, comedy…everything that we loved from the TV Show 'Sherlock'. I hope you will all enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts.