The Disappearance of John Watson
London welcomed me back with the indifference that capitals such as this were known for and grateful for the darkness and anonymity of the night, I shrank into Baker Street and into the privacy of my chambers without Mrs Hudson taking much notice.
Watson hadn’t returned, at least not to our old lodgings, and it was a testament to the journey I’d undertaken that I reacted to this realisation with nothing but resignation. My thoughts were too full to process and my heart was torn. I felt I had lost him, once and for all, or that I perhaps had never had him to begin with.