Free Holmes and Watson by June Thomson

Holmes .
    But the expense was worth it for, over the meal, when Watson confided in Stamford his need to find somewhere cheaper to live, Stamford remembered a similar conversation he had held with Holmes that very morning, and passed the information on to Watson that a man he knew had found lodgings but needed someone with whom he could go halves with the rent. Watson treated the news with enthusiasm. More sociable than Holmes, he welcomed the opportunity of sharing rooms rather than living alone, despite Stamford’s warning that Holmes,while seeming a decent enough fellow, might not make an ideal companion. He was, Stamford (who seemed to be having second thoughts about mentioning Holmes) explained, eccentric, uncommunicative and a little too cold-blooded for his own tastes. Furthermore, Stamford had no idea what career Holmes proposed taking up for; although he was a first-class chemist, he was not a medical student.
    Not at all deterred, Watson, assuming from Stamford’s remarks that Holmes was a man of quiet and studious habits and would therefore suit him as a fellow-lodger, suggested a meeting, which Stamford proposed could take place that same afternoon at Bart’s, although he refused to take any responsibility for the outcome of the introduction.
    On finishing luncheon, they therefore took another cab to St Bartholomew’s Hospital, familiar ground to Watson who needed no help in finding his way up a stone staircase and down a long, whitewashed corridor to the chemistry laboratory. It was here in the high-ceilinged room among the broad benches, littered with bottles, retorts and Bunsen burners, and empty apart from Holmes, that the famous meeting took place.
    The timing was dramatic, for at the very moment Stamford and Watson entered, Holmes found the reagent which was precipitated by haemoglobin and nothing else, a discovery which he greeted with the exultant cry of ‘I have found it!’, as triumphant as Archimedes’ shout of ‘Eureka!’
    After the formal introductions, Holmes astonished Watson, probably intentionally, by announcing as he shook him firmly by the hand, ‘You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive.’ There was no time for Watson to ask how Holmes knew this. In his eagerness, Holmes had seized him by the sleeve and dragged him to the bench where his experiment was set up, digging a bodkin into his own finger and drawing off a drop of blood which he used to demonstrate the efficacy of his new test for haemoglobin.
    It is clear from his excitable behaviour that Holmes was going through one of his manic periods and it is not surprising that Watson, unused then to his companion’s swings of mood, was much taken aback, although a few minutes later, in an exchange of mutual confidences regarding their personal shortcomings, Holmes confessed, ‘I get in the dumps at times. You must not think me sulky when I do that. Just let me alone, and I’ll soon be all right.’
    He was careful at this early stage of his acquaintance with Watson to make no reference to another habit of his, that of regularly injecting himself with cocaine. Both admitted they were smokers, so that was all right. In his turn, Watson confessed to his own drawbacks: his ownership of the bull pup; his laziness; his habit of getting up at ungodly hours. However, his admission that he had another set of vices when he was in good health is puzzling. To what vices can he possibly be referring? One suspects that Watson, suffering from low self-esteem, a symptom of depression, and conscious of Holmes’ intelligence and brilliant eccentricity, wished to present himself in a more interesting light.
    Watson’s last confession that, because of his shattered nerves, he disliked ‘row’, caused Holmes some anxiety. Did this, he asked, extend to violin-playing? Watson, not knowing Holmes’ musical proficiency, hedged a little. It depended on the player, he replied, adding rather sententiously, ‘A well-played violin is a treat for the gods