Chapter Text
John stared at the poster for what must have been ten minutes: ‘Sherlock Holmes will offer tutoring to his fellow students with grade averages under 70%. £20 per hour. All year groups included.’ He thought of the poster as he walked to his next class, then thought of it as he ate lunch, then again on his walk home, and a final time as he walked through his front door and prepared to ask his mother if he could sign up. It was unlikely obviously: they’d moved here from California, USA a few months ago with no money and even less hope for the future - there was no way she would agree. Nevertheless, he could try.
“Hi Johnnie, how was your day? Didja do anythin’ nice?” She called as he walked into their tiny flat. She stood in the kitchen, struggling to chop up some cheap meat that she’d bought from god-knows-where. Mould and damp scaled the walls and outlined the floor, and the bitter frost outside the windows had begun to creep inside: it was hell but the rent was cheap and they couldn’t afford any better.
“Umm, good thanks Ma. I was… I was wonderin’ if I could maybe have some tutorin’. There’s this boy at school, and he’s, wow, he’s such a genius, like the smartest person ever I’m purty sure, and it’s only £20 per hour, an’ it’d really help my grades. So… please?” His throat burned with guilt as the words left it and he screwed up his eyes in fear. All that entered his brain was the buzzing of the light overhead and the absence of sound from his mother.
“One session, maybe… if it helps I’ll think about it.” She said, frozen, entirely void of emotion. “Now… hurry onto your bedroom, I’ll call ya when dinners ready.”
A horrid blend of joy and further guilt swarmed all of his soul, eating away at him and haunting him all throughout the evening. His mother barely glanced at him and remained silent the next day as she gave him the £20 for the fee.
//
One week later, it was certain - he would have at least one whole hour with Sherlock Holmes! The most interesting, intelligent, wonderful person ever. Euphoria consumed his entire being as he saw the list pinned up:
| Monday, 15:30 - 16:30 | Evgenia Kuznetsov
| Monday, 17:00 - 18:00 | Victor Trevor |
| Tuesday, 15:30 - 16:30 | Regina Musgrave |
| Tuesday, 17:00 - 18:00 | Mark Stamford |
| Wednesday, 15:30 - 16:30 | Jane Scott Eccles |
| Wednesday, 17:00 - 18:00 | Billy Cartwright |
| Thursday, 15:30 - 16:30 | Langdale Pike |
| Thursday, 17:00 - 18:00 | John Steinbeck |
| Friday, 15:30 - 16:30 | Sherrinford Hope |
| Friday, 17:00 - 18:00 | Ormond Sacker |
Yes, for one hour a week, John would get Sherlock all to himself, in all his magnificent glory. Oh, how desperate he was for Thursday to arrive! This was worth his mother’s disapproval, this was worth the extra financial struggle: he needed this, he needed him; God! how he needed him. He… needed him?