“A shame. We go to opening nights at the Abbey regularly, of course. And then there are the galleries. So much, really, to do in the city these days, one need hardly go to London!”
John catches a soft, annoyed sigh from down the table – Mycroft, if he’d had to wager, but he doesn’t look to check – and stifles a smile.
“The Abbey’s good, if provincial,” Smyth chimes in. “Shaw, Synge, Yeats – they all cut their teeth there. The Irish do know how to weave a tale, I will give you that.”
“See?” Lady Holmes says, pleased. She ignores the dig. “We Irish aren’t all heathens.” John looks at her, startled. Across the table, Mycroft looks pained.
“Mummy, we’re hardly –” he starts, before Lady Holmes fixes him with a stare.“Constable Watson,” she says, still looking at her eldest son, “Norbury has been my family’s home for five generations. I was born within these very walls. Surely that entitles me to claim my birthright from Hibernia.” Her gaze, finally, slides over to John, who straightens his shoulders uncomfortably.
“I, um – I’m sure I don’t, um –”
“Mummy fancies herself a child of the aes sídhe,” Mycroft says impassively. “The fairy-folk. Myths and childish stories; no place outside of a nursery.”
So to recap. John's chauffeuring an officer who's been invited to lunch by the Holmes family, and because there are no servants except for the butler and a maid, there's no-one to give him a cuppa in the kitchen so Sherlock has hauled him into the dining room (this is registered as a shocking thing to do in class terms, but otherwise doesn't seem to have any effect on the conversation, which aykbob is absolutely my favourite sort of Getting It Wrong in Fanfic.) The rest of it I present without comment. Astonishingly, this writer has read The Last September.
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Re: sorry I seem to have accidentally tl:dr because Ireland
Date: 2015-05-30 03:40 pm (UTC)So to recap. John's chauffeuring an officer who's been invited to lunch by the Holmes family, and because there are no servants except for the butler and a maid, there's no-one to give him a cuppa in the kitchen so Sherlock has hauled him into the dining room (this is registered as a shocking thing to do in class terms, but otherwise doesn't seem to have any effect on the conversation, which aykbob is absolutely my favourite sort of Getting It Wrong in Fanfic.) The rest of it I present without comment. Astonishingly, this writer has read The Last September.