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Watson sighed with relief as he sat on the bench by the Thames. He and Mrs. Watson had to walk about a quarter o the day to find a private spot, there were so many lovers out and about, holding hands, sneaking kisses when their chaperons weren’t looking, and some, the sailors mostly, grabbing what they could get away with and ducking the usual swinging fists, elbows, purses and devices the fair maidens held to fling t them in defense.
But despite all that chaos, it all felt warm and snuggly to him as he nuzzled Mrs. Hudson with his cheek.
“You’re hot!”
“Please, let’s not discuss that.”
“Not that, you silly old fool. Your cheek!”
“Who are you calling old fool?”
“You, you grouch and growl like a premature bulldog who’s been aged twenty years inside the mother’s body and suddenly thrown out into the world.
He snapped his head away and gave her a surprised look.
She pinched his cheek.
“That woke you up, didn’t it?”
“Not very nice of you.”
“Oh, I can be quite nice, thank you, or have you forgotten...”
A constable strolled by, twirling his night stick.
She clammed up and whispered into Watson’s right ear.
Watson’s face turned as bright as a red light.
