Entry 14

"...son."

"Hm."

"Watson."

"I'm awake," I groaned, rubbing my eyes.

"You'll hurt your spine sleeping like that," Shirleigh mumbled groggily.

Slouching against the chair where Shirleigh had fallen asleep, I could only assume I had done the same. Sitting up to stretch my arms and legs a mug appeared just before my nose. Lifting my head, I found Shirleigh looking down at me ruffling her hair. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee instantly woke me up. 

"Thank you," I said, taking the mug in both hands. "How was your nap?"

"Much needed," Shirleigh yawned.

"What time is it?" I wondered.

"Half-past five."

"It has been a rather nice day of rest," I said, taking a sip of the coffee. "I have enjoyed it. Your sister is such a delight."

"It is always nice to have her around," Shirleigh murmured, staring into her mug. "Apologies, I only possess decaf. I hate to admit it, but I fear I am quite unbearable after having caffeine."

"It's quite alright," I told her. "Too much caffeine can be harmful to the body anyhow."

Shirleigh sat on the floor across from me, her legs curled beneath her.

"When I was younger," she started. "My mother enrolled my sister into a ballet class. We would always go to her performances and I would often be awestruck by them. The grace and elegance captivated me, so much so, that I would attempt to replicate her routines when we returned home. My mother, seeing that I had taken a liking to ballet, enrolled me in the same class as Miriam, against my father's wishes. I stopped partaking in ballet a few years later after..."

Her sentence trailed as she gazed at the dark liquid in her mug. There seemed to be something else she wanted to say.

"I bet your recitals with your sister were a feast for the eyes," I said. "It must be nice to have a sibling. I'm an only child, but I am sure you figured that out somehow."

Shirleigh stole a glance at me and I let out a weak laugh.

"My mother passed a few years ago," I continued. "Cancer. It was what sparked my wanting to become a doctor. To think that I gave up on myself because of some silly accident..."

My leg felt tight and I did my best to fight back the tears that were welling up.

"You haven't given up on yourself."

When I glanced up, Shirleigh was staring back at me, her eyes somewhat warm despite their cold colour.

"You simply are not moving as fast as you want yourself to," she told me. "Just because you are not moving, does not mean you are not making progress."

I averted my gaze, still feeling a bit downcast.

"And I would say that you are making quite a bit of progress, whether you know it or not," she said. "Everything you have done for me so far, I wouldn't say you have given up in the slightest."

When I looked back up at her, she was clutching her arm, the one I had stitched the night before. Maybe she was right. Even though I told myself that I wouldn't pursue medicine any longer, I found that I naturally gravitated to it, whether I liked it or not. Even when it came to food and drink, my mind always jumped to "How healthy would this be? Is this good for the body?" If I didn't end up living in the Palace or with Shirleigh, I fear that I would have lost myself entirely and quite possibly be venturing down a dark path.

"Thank you..." I mumbled. "I am glad that you think that way."

"You should think that way as well."

I nodded and gave her a reassuring smile.

Tapping my toes together in the soothing stillness, I watched as Shirleigh inspected her fingernails, which I often caught her doing.

"Do you not like long nails?" I questioned.

"They get in the way when it comes to playing the violin," she told me. "I try not to let them grow out."

"You shouldn't cut them that short, though," said I, glancing at her fingernails. "You risk damaging your nail bed. You should leave around a couple of millimetres of the edges of your nails. That way you can keep them healthy. Nails are more important than people think and they can tell us a lot about others."

"Hmm..." Shirleigh gazed at her nails, appearing a bit self-conscious.

"Maybe we could go to the salon this weekend," I suggested.

She looked up at me with an expression of utmost delight.

"That sounds wonderful."

"I shall make appointments for us then," I said, taking a mental note. "How long have you been playing violin by the way? You play so beautifully."

"Before my mother enrolled me in Miriam's ballet class, she had me taking violin classes, so I have been playing for several years now. Almost a decade. My mother was always happiest when I played, so I did so for her often. I found that the action of playing the violin and the sounds produced by it brought me peace."

"Oh, that's lovely," I said, unable to ignore the melancholy in her voice. "Did you know that you tend to convey your emotions through the music you play?"

Shirleigh expressed genuine shock before a more embarrassed look crossed her features.

"Do I? Is that why...you leave the flat from time to time?"

"You mean you are unaware?"

"I am afraid that nowadays when I play, my mind is overwhelmed by thoughts, so I never truly hear the music of the violin anymore."

"Oh...well, when you are frustrated, the music can often be hard to listen to," I told her, doing my best not to hurt her feelings in any way. "But when you are in a more jovial mood, oh, is it a delight to the ears."

Shirleigh twiddled her thumbs.

"Now that I think about it," I said thoughtfully. "When I first arrived here, before stepping foot into this flat, you were playing quite a beautiful tune. Had something happened before my arrival?"

Shirleigh's eyes dodged my gaze and she shook her head.

"I would love to hear you play more often."

My companion's eyes lit up and I thought for a moment that I saw a faint smile on her lips, but when I blinked it was gone and there was another intermittent silence.

"Have you..." Shirleigh tugged at the fabric of her nightgown. "Have you ever been...in love before?"

"Hm? Oh, yes," I said. "Many times. Well, I say that, but whenever I thought of a feeling to be love and pursued it, I would soon find that it wasn't... I know it doesn't quite make sense—"

"It does."

I fixed my attention on Shirleigh as she stared off into the distance.

"The thing about love is, " I started. "While it is a beautiful thing, searching for it can be quite ugly."

A thoughtful expression took hold of my companion's features and I wanted to ask the reason behind her question but decided that it was best left alone.

"What does your sister do?" I wondered. "She must have an important job to do so much travelling, let alone be able to construct a place like this."

"She is a foreign service officer for England," Shirleigh told me, breaking free of her daze. "Primarily, anyway. She holds multiple occupations, but she has expressed that being a foreign service officer allows her to have a great impact on the world and its citizens. She meets with administrations from a plethora of countries and many other agencies to offer assistance."

"She sounds like a walking version of the government!"

Shirleigh shrugged. "I suppose she is the government in a way."

"How do you feel about it? Her job, I mean."

"I am very proud of Miriam," Shirleigh said, a sparkle in her eye. "She never ceases to impress those around her, including me. I admit, I do wish I had more time to spend with her when I was younger. She inspired me and assisted me through my darkest moments."

Shirleigh stretched her legs in front of her.

"To be honest, I am glad that she is here, even if she can be a little too caring at times. But it is all with good intention."

I smiled at my reflection in the dark pool in my mug before getting to my feet.

"Where are you going?" Shirleigh asked, staring up at me.

"I'm going to get some air," I said, stretching my arms. "We've been indoors nearly all day. Would you like to join me?"

Shirleigh gave a sheepish nod. She stood and made her way down the hall to her room to presumably change into something more suitable for strolling the streets. Waiting beside the door for my partner, my mind began to wander in the stillness.

There were parts of me that wanted to ask about what happened to her parents. Mr Hudson had told me that they had both passed on, but I couldn't help but feel there was something else to it all. When she mentioned her mother, there was a visible sadness that clouded her eyes, but she also appeared a bit...disjointed. Almost as though she wasn't quite sure of her mother's passing herself. I do not believe she has ever mentioned her father either...

A knock at the door shook me from my thoughts, and I opened it, revealing who was on the other side.

"Sorry to disturb you, Miss Watson," Miriam stood in the doorway, hands folded in front of her midsection. "Or do you prefer 'doctor'? Just Watson, maybe? Oh, that reminds me, Shirleigh mentioned that your middle initial is an H. What does it stand for? Hallie? No, Hazel! Hamish?"

I giggled. "My father's name is Hamish. You can just call me Juniper."

"Oh! That's wonderful! Do you have any nicknames? Would it be okay if I called you June? That doesn't sound quite right...What about Junie?"

"If it makes you happy," I said, suddenly nostalgic. "My peers used to call me that in medical school."

"Lovely!" Miriam clasped her hands together, her face beaming. She relaxed, folding her hands once again. She truly looked like the definition of a refined young woman. She stared at me, her eyes wide and I shifted under her gaze wondering if I should say something. Suddenly she slapped her hand to her forehead. "I am so sorry! I nearly forgot what I came over here for! Where's Shirleigh?"

"She's in her room at the moment," I informed her. "Did you need her?"

"No, I actually wanted to speak with you alone," Miriam's expression suddenly turned serious resembling her sister's usual countenance. She lowered her voice to a spine-chilling whisper as she asked a question that seemingly read my thoughts from earlier. "Has she spoken of our parents at all?"

"Oh, um, well, she mentioned your mother when she was telling me about her experience playing the violin." I felt as though I wanted to fold into myself, not entirely sure why.

Perhaps it was the inscrutable look scribbled across Miriam's face as she silently stared into my eyes.

"Nothing else?"

I thought for a moment before replying, "No."

"Any mention of dogs?"

"Dogs?"

Silence.

I shook my head.

Miriam looked conflicted for a moment.

"Do not inquire about our parents," she said, her voice firm. "In fact, if at all possible, it would probably be best if you avoid mentioning them at all.

She held her head in her hands for a moment, letting out a deep sigh. She bounced on her toes and placed her hands on her hips, returning to her typical lively disposition and a chill ran through my veins. What exactly was that all about?

"Oh, and Junie," she said, her voice sounding ominous in my ears. "You may want to do something about that leg of yours."

I took a step back in surprise, and Miriam laughed.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you! It's just that your stockings bunch up around your knee and ankle and get caught where the different pieces of your prosthetic meet. Your slight limp and the way you walk suggest that you got it recently — I am terribly sorry for whatever caused you to need it. It also tells me that you haven't been to a physical therapist. You are trying to keep it a secret from others, aren't you? Would you like me to find a physical therapist for you? It wouldn't be any trouble, and we could find a workaround if you wanted to keep it discreet."

I had barely registered the words coming from her mouth as I was stunned in absolute shock.

"Miss Watson?"

Realising I hadn't said anything in response, I shook myself from my astonishment. "Apologies, it's — Shirleigh does the same thing..."

"Oh, the whole 'reading people like an open book' thing? Yeah, it's kind of genetic, actually."

"It's amazing."

"I'm glad you think so." There was a tinge of sadness in her voice.

"Does that mean—"

"She most likely has figured it out as well, yes."

My shoulders slumped. This was something that I did not want others to know about for a reason unknown even to myself. Perhaps I was embarrassed about it? Ashamed of it? The fact that two people that I would consider close have discovered this without me having to tell them... For some reason, it was still something that I was unwilling to say aloud or admit, despite them knowing. My expressiveness must have conveyed this because Miriam spoke again.

"I will keep it to myself, I promise. But it may be beneficial if you told her yourself."

"When I have come to terms with it..." I gazed through her. "I will decide when it is the right time."

"Who are you talking to? Is it my sister?"

I jumped at the sound of Shirleigh's voice and turned to face her with what I hoped was a genuine enough-looking smile plastered on my face.

"Sherrie! You look so cute! Going for a stroll?"

"Sherrie?" I turned to my flatmate, who had noticeably turned a bright shade of red.

"Don't you have some work to be focusing on?"

"Ooh, sorry," Miriam defensively held her hands up. "Let me get out of here before she tears me to shreds with that gaze of hers. It was such a joy speaking with you, Junie!"

Miriam shut the door, leaving me unable to respond.

"Junie...?"

Miriam's cryptic words about their parents and the unexpected mention of dogs weighed on my mind for a moment, but my thoughts were interrupted, and my face burned when I heard Shirleigh mutter my nickname behind my back. Many people have referred to me by such a name, and I have no clue why I reacted in such a way when she suddenly said it. Perhaps it was because she only called me by my last name.

I shook my head and opened the door once more, sweeping an arm to the outside hallway.

"Shall we?"