#prompt: Mary has very strong feelings about ginger

[v-thinks-on]

Holmes and I returned to the bakery which had brought us to this little town in the first place. Mrs. Watson was already waiting for us when we arrived, and she had been joined by Miss Jane Marple, one of Holmes’s young relations, who must have been near thirty at the time, if Holmes and I were nearing fifty.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson,” Miss Marple said, “I suppose you’ve travelled from London for a change of pace, though I’ve found the pace of the countryside is not really so different from anywhere else.”

“So, you’ve made a study of it?” Holmes asked, rubbing his hands together in enthusiasm.

Mrs. Watson and I had exchanged terse greetings and now she remained behind Miss Marple, as I stayed a step behind Holmes.

“You could say that,” Miss Marple answered Holmes. “St. Mary Mead seems to me as though it might be a microcosm of the whole world. There is no human drama I have witnessed anywhere else that I have not happened upon in the village.”

“You must be very busy,” I remarked.

“No, I would not say more so than any other spinster.”

To my surprise, Mrs. Watson gave a little fond chuckle. “Yet you somehow talk to everyone and know all their gossip.”

Miss Marple shook her head. “There is no such thing as secrets in a village like St. Mary Mead.”

With some direction from Holmes, we all meandered into the bakery so that Holmes could replace Mrs. Watson’s waylaid pies.

“And some ginger snaps, if you please,” Holmes said to the baker with a wry glance at me.

“Holmes, you needn’t,” I insisted with a laugh.

“They are not for you, my dear fellow, but for Miss Marple.” Holmes said, taking the parcel from the baker and holding it out to her. “It is a unique flavour, pungent, yet sweet.”

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” Miss Marple said, accepting a biscuit from the parcel and taking a small bite. “While we all lived together, some of my cousins became very adventurous chefs, which didn’t always turn out so well, but there was one particularly successful batch of ginger snaps—after the first attempt nearly burned down the house. And, of course, all of my neighbours now in St. Mary Mead each has their own recipe, but these are excellent.”

Holmes then held out the parcel to Mrs. Watson who turned him away, as I knew she would. “Ginger is all very well in curries, but it doesn’t belong in a biscuit,” she said with some vehemence. “A biscuit should be sweet, not sharp.”

Holmes at last handed off the parcel of ginger snaps to me as he returned to the baker. “Some florentines, for the lady, if you please.”

Holmes gave the final parcel to Mrs. Watson, and then we all left the sweet, warm shop, to return to the cold winter air, with our pastries in hand to ease the way. I nibbled on my own sweet, sharp ginger biscuit, and Holmes snuck up behind me to take one for himself, and I offered the rest to Miss Marple.

“This is very generous of you, Mr. Holmes,” Mrs. Watson said, eating a biscuit of her own, as we went down the country lane, back toward the inn.

“It is I who owe you my gratitude for your generosity,” Holmes replied, and I felt the same.

#v writes #Sherlock Holmes #ACD Holmes #ACD Johnlock #John Watson #Mary Morstan #Miss Marple #December Calendar Challenge of Awesomeness #prompt: Mary has very strong feelings about ginger #this solidly puts it in the Designation: H AU #a follow up to the first chapter of last year's The Mysterious Mr. Holmes