The Conflicts Of Wisdom
Part I
by Patti Eyre
As the train pulled into the station at Oxford, my usual excitement when entering my spiritual home was dampened due to my rather hasty and explosive exit from the cottage earlier in the evening. I had not planned on coming back to Oxford until the final draft of my Wisdom Book was completed and ready to take to the publisher; however, one inconveniently timed case and one off-hand and condescending remark from Holmes made my already short temper hit the boiling point. After getting my bag and heading for my rooms, I thought about the ultimatum that I had flung at Holmes before my rather abrupt exit. Holmes was not a man who was used to ultimatums, even after almost three years of marriage. As I unlocked the door of my flat, a part of me wanted to get right back on the train to Eastbourne and find out more about this case that Mycroft wanted Holmes and me to solve. Damn the man, he knew me far too well! Irritated, I squelched all curiosity and told myself "Damn it Russell, you have made your stand and you are not going to back down now!"
I had been working since dawn on some corrections for my book, when Holmes suggested that I get some fresh air. In other words; he took the pen from my hand, pulled me to my feet, and pushed me towards the door. "Take a walk, Russell. You have been rubbing your bad shoulder for nearly thirty minutes, which means you need to take a break. Go!"
I returned some time later and found Holmes pacing the floor impatiently, waving a telegram in his hand. When I spied two suitcases sitting near the stairway, I sighed warily, and thought "Oh no, not again!"
"Russell, I'm glad you're back. I was afraid I was going to have to hunt you down. Mycroft sent a wire shortly after you left about a very interesting case that he's sending our way. I'm afraid he insists that we leave tonight, and since you were out, I've packed us a few things. We can purchase whatever we will need once we arrive at our destination."
"Holmes."
"Yes, Russell. You want details. I will fill you in when we are on the train. You'll want to change clothes of course, but we must hurry if we are to catch the five o'clock train from Eastbourne."
When I spoke, my voice was surprisingly calm. "Holmes, I told you when we came back from Dartmoor that I could not join you on any cases until after my book was finished. I'm sorry, but you will have to solve this case without me."
"Russell, I'm sorry but I need you on this case. Mycroft is establishing our roles, even as we speak, to our contact in Paris. You have been working nonstop on this book for the past six weeks, have lost at least a stone, and have been even more irritable than usual. The break will do you good; besides, Paris can be very diverting this time of year."
I was close to giving in; the thought of a break in Paris with Holmes was tempting, but something inside me rebelled. In the past, Holmes had invented cases for us to solve, to lure me away from my work. I was beginning to wonder if the same thing was happening now. On this last case, he had demanded that I drop everything and help him in Dartmoor. And now tonight, Holmes had accepted this case without consulting me, made arrangements and packed my belongings, just assuming that I would give in and go, whether I liked it or not. Even after nearly three years of partnership and marriage, the man was still treating me like an apprentice. And always would, if I didn't put a stop to it right now.
"No, it's out of the question. I will not put off this book any longer."
"What did you say?"
When Holmes used that tone, I knew I was on thin ice; but there was no going back now.
"You heard me. I am finishing this book."
"Damn your book! This case is important."
THAT DID IT!
Barely controlling my hurt and rage, I stalked over to the suitcases, picked up mine(at least I hoped it was mine!) and headed for the door. Holmes was startled but still seething.
"Where do you think you're going?"
My voice was deadly quiet, and as Holmes well knew, a danger sign with me.
"I am going to Oxford to finish this "damned book." You can either go to Paris or stay here, but while I'm gone, I suggest you think about this: I am no longer your apprentice who will jump when the master snaps his fingers. I am your partner and your wife. As your partner, I expect to be consulted before we take a case, and I expect to have my separate career treated in equal regard with yours. Theology is a part of me Holmes, not some childish whim or bad habit that you can wean me from because it is inconvenient for you."
"You're coming back when you've finished your book?"
From his tone, I couldn't tell whether it was a question or a command; I decided to answer it as a question.
"That, Holmes, is entirely up to you."