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Chapter Text

Ros Myers sat down on the park bench, frustrated at not being able to intercept the message she was certain had been left close by.  She noticed that also sitting on the bench was a teddy bear, which was holding a bunch of tiger lilies.

The bear, spotting Ros’ gaze, said, “Oh, I’m sorry.  Are these yours?  I didn’t know they belonged to anyone and I thought they were rather pretty.”

Ros gave a start, since she wasn’t expecting to be addressed by a teddy bear, but quickly recovered herself.  “No, they’re not mine.  But, actually, I’ve just spotted the note which is with them.  Do you mind if I take a look?”

“Not at all,” the bear said.  “I’m Winnie-the-Pooh, by the way.  Most of my friends just call me Pooh Bear.”

Ros smiled.  “And I’m Ros.”  She glanced at the note and quickly put it in her handbag.  Then, looking up, she noticed someone coming in their direction.  Quickly she stood up, then bent down to Pooh Bear and said, “I think I’ve seen the person who’s come to collect the flowers.  They’re not a very nice person, so it might be a good idea if you came with me.”

Pooh said, “I’m not sure I can keep up with you.”

“I can carry you if you like.”

“Hmm, I do tend to get rather bumped when that happens.”

“I promise I’ll carry you very carefully.  And if you like I’ll buy you some more flowers.”

“Thank you.  That would be lovely.”

And Pooh, being Pooh, composed a short pome, which he sang to Ros as they walked along:

I started with an orange lily
But rhyming orange is rather silly
So now I’ll chose something yellow
As I’m a happy little fellow

Which wasn’t the best pome he’d ever written, but would do for the moment, and maybe he would add some more verses later.

Chapter Text

“This isn’t the sort of place I regularly visit,” Miss Marple remarked.  “And I rather imagine you wouldn’t be bringing your dear mother here either.”

Harry Pearce laughed.  “I think she’d have something to say if I even suggested it.”

“I thought as much.  So, perhaps you could tell me why we are here.”

They wandered a little further into the arcade, almost painfully bright lights from every frontage advertising untold excitement inside, with a small note underneath proclaiming ‘no under 18s admitted’.  Although, as far as Miss Marple could see, there was nothing to stop anyone with sufficient strength to push open the saloon-type door from going in, or, for that matter, crawling underneath.

“There’s a young woman we want to bring out.  Any man who tries to speak to her will be challenged, and Ros and Jo would be recognised.”

“But surely I will raise suspicions as soon as I enter?” Miss Marple said.  “Normally, people overlook me, but that won’t happen this time.”

“Our contact will come over and speak to you, and offer to escort you out.  Her English is limited, but I’m sure you can cover for that.  Once out of their section, take her as far as you can towards the main entrance.  We’ll be looking out for you and will take over at the first sign of trouble.  Do you think you can do it?”

“I will certainly try.  You’d better point me in the right direction, and push the door if necessary.”

“Thank you.  And remember, do not put yourself in any danger.”  Miss Marple assured him she wouldn’t dream of it, and Harry mentally thought if anything did happen, his mother would never left him forget it.

Miss Marple entered the small room and stood still, a hand to her mouth.  “Oh, dear me, this can’t be where I’m supposed to be.”

A young Asian woman came over and said, “Come with me, auntie.  I’ll help you find your family.”

The woman opened the door and had begun to show her out, when an angry male voice shouted something.  Instantly, Miss Marple began to twitter away about her non-existent family and the man waved them out in resignation.  Together they walked towards the main door, Miss Marple walking as fast as she could.

The door was in sight and Miss Marple could just see Ros Myers waiting outside, when she heard heavy footsteps coming from behind them.  A man suddenly appeared from one side, and hustled the young woman out towards Ros, who helped her into a waiting car and jumped in beside her.

And a voice, which Miss Marple recognised, said, “You leave my Aunt Jane alone,” which was followed by a thud as her would-be assailant hit the floor.

The speaker went to take Miss Marple’s arm, but she said, “Thank you, Lucas dear, but I am quite able to walk by myself.”

Lucas North laughed.  “Or course you are.  I wouldn’t doubt it for a minute.”

Chapter Text

Miss Marple had grown, if not exactly accustomed, at least not particularly surprised, at receiving unanticipated visits from Tigger.  She’d even met Rabbit, and had been promised she would be introduced to some of Tigger’s other friends.  However, encountering a small worried-looking pig as she stepped out of the library, was completely unexpected.

Nevertheless, she bent down and said, “Hello, can I help you?”

“Oh,” the pig squeaked, “I’m Piglet and…”

“Are you a friend of Tigger’s?  If so, I’ve heard all about you.”

“Oh,” Piglet sighed in relief, “you must be Miss Marple.”

“I am,” Miss Marple smiled.  “Why don’t we take this path.  It leads to a very pleasant small park and you can tell me all about why you’re here.”

Miss Marple found a secluded bench and sat down, and Piglet hopped up beside her.

“Please don’t worry,” Piglet said, “I haven’t come for camping in your garden, at least not this time.”

Miss Marple hummed and made a mental note to expect a visit from Tigger and Piglet in the future.

“I’ve come to invite you to afternoon tea tomorrow in the Hundred Acre Woods.”  Piglet noticed Miss Marple’s look of slight concern.  “Oh, you mustn’t worry about that either.  The invitation is from Christopher Robin, so it will be a proper tea, with chairs and a table.”

“That sounds delightful,” Miss Marple said.  “How do I get there?”

“Tigger says there’s a hollow oak tree in the lane behind your cottage.  Do you know it?”

“Yes, indeed!”

“If you go there tomorrow afternoon, you’ll see a soft green light inside it.  Step into the tree and you’ll be in Hundred Acre Woods.”

“Thank you very much.  I shall look forward to it.”

Piglet smiled, hopped off the bench and scurried away.

Miss Marple also smiled and started to walk towards the bus stop.  Then she checked herself, she had a couple of shops she’d been planning to visit while on her trip to the library.  But a glance at her watch told her she didn’t really have time, and neither of her potential purchases were essential.  Much better to have spent her time receiving an invitation to afternoon tea in the Hundred Acre Woods.

Chapter Text

“I’m terribly sorry,” the young man said, looking around wildly, “I was told to meet someone standing beside Eros, but nothing looks as it should.  There are hardly any horses and far too many horseless carriages.”

“I’ve had a similar sensation,” the other man replied, “only in my case there shouldn’t be any horses and the other vehicles don’t look right either.  May I ask what your name is?”

“Stanley Hopkins.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of you.  You’re an inspector at Scotland Yard.  My name is Malcolm Wynn-Jones, but I doubt you’ll have heard of me.”

“No, I’m afraid your name isn’t familiar but I wasn’t given a name.  I’m not even sure that anyone knew what you were called.”

Malcolm nodded.  “That makes sense to me.  Can I ask if you were told to accept a packet from your contact?”

“Yes, Mr Holmes did tell me that.”

“Would that be Sherlock Holmes or Mycroft Holmes?”

Stanley Hopkins smiled.  “You’ve heard of them, too!  I’m referring to Mr Mycroft Holmes.”

“Good.  Then my message to you is to take this packet immediately to Mr Holmes and deliver it personally into his hands.  Do not give it to an intermediary.  Lovely as it has been to meet you, I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to be meeting regularly.”

“That was precisely my instruction.”

Malcolm passed the packet over and the two men nodded to each other before departing in their separate directions.

Having taken a few paces along the pavement, Malcolm shook his head.  The traffic was now back to its usual chaos, and there were no longer any horses.  He turned to look back, but there was also no sign of Stanley Hopkins.  It was a shame in a way; he would have liked to get to know the young man a little more, but it was far better, as he had said, if they didn’t meet again.

At the same time, Stanley Hopkins was walking back the way he’d come.  He glanced down to make sure the packet was safe and, on looking back up, realised the horses had returned and there were only a few horseless carriages.  He was glad, as interesting as had been what he assumed was a glimpse into the future, he suspected he would prefer to remain in his own time.

Chapter Text

Inspector Lestrade leant against a tree and looked around him.  He seemed to be in a wooded area, but it wasn’t one he recognised.  He’d been suspicious from the beginning about the message which he’d received, supposedly from Sherlock Holmes, and telling him to come to the far end of the lane.  Lestrade had known where the lane began, he’d been past it several times, but had never, as far as he could remember, walked down it before.  And he knew he’d never been in this particular wood.

Suddenly he heard a voice, muttering, “Of course, parties are all very well, but I’d be just as happy to stay in my thistle patch.  But still, if they want me there, I had better go.”

Lestrade looked around and spotted a small, cuddly (he assumed it was cuddly, if you ignored the grumpy expression on its face) donkey.  He coughed to warn the animal of his presence.

The donkey stopped and looked up.  “What do you want?” it demanded.

“Could you tell me where I am, please?”

“This is the Hundred Acre Wood.”

“Er, thank you.  And how do I get out of here?”

“How did you get in here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then I don’t see how I can tell you how to get out again.”

“Is there anyone else around who might be able to help me?”

The donkey looked around and said, “I can’t see anyone, can you?”

“Er, no.”

“Well, I can’t stand here chatting to you.  I have a party to go to.”

“Do you think someone at the party could give me directions?”

“Possibly.  Or possibly not.  You’d better come with me.  My name is Eeyore, by the way, but I don’t suppose you’d be interested.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Eeyore.  My name is Lestrade.”

“Right, Lestrade, this way.”

The reached a clearing in the wood and a small tiger bounced up.  “Hello,” the tiger said, “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.”

“I don’t think so either,” Lestrade replied.  “But I can’t find my way out.  Could you possibly give me some directions?”

The tiger looked around.  “There, you see the beech tree, it’s glowing a little bit.  That’ll take you back.”

Lestrade looked round and spotted the beech tree.  It didn’t seem possible, but then, nothing in the last fifteen minutes would have seemed possible to him that morning, so he walked towards it.  As he did so, the tree seemed to open up its trunk.  Turning round, Lestrade called out, “Goodbye and thank you!” before stepping inside the tree and hoping for the best.

Involuntarily, he closed his eyes and then opened them again, to find he was standing at the end of an alleyway. 

Sherlock Holmes stepped out of the gloom and said, “Lestrade, you came.  I wasn’t sure whether you’d make it.”

Chapter Text

Miss Marple looked steadily at the man at whom she was pointing her umbrella.  “Hostage is a very strong word,” she said.  “I’m not sure it is how I would describe the current situation.”

“I believe the definition of a hostage is someone who is held against their will, so as to force another person, or people, to comply with an order made by the person holding the hostage.  That I think is what is happening here,” the man said.  He made a move to stand up, but Miss Marple pointed a second umbrella at him and he sat back down.  “And that is my umbrella.”

“You are quite correct, Mr Holmes, it is your umbrella.  And you will have it back when, and only when, I am satisfied my request has been fulfilled.”

“I can hardly be held responsible that my brother’s landlady has been operating an illicit still on the premises,” Mycroft Holmes protested.

“But you were the one who requested the relevant authorities make a visit.  I am not demanding the visit be cancelled, merely postponed for a few hours.”

“By which time the still will have been dismantled.”

“And set up elsewhere.  Somewhere entirely out of your jurisdiction.”

There was a knock on the door and Mycroft Holmes called out, “Who is it?”

“I have a Colonel Bantry to see you, sir,” a voice replied.

“Please ask him to come in,” Miss Marple said.

Holmes did so.

Arthur Bantry entered and said, “Hello, Jane.  I’ve come to take you back.  Dolly says it’s all sorted.”

Miss Marple smiled.  “Thank you.  Mr Holmes, do have your umbrella.”  Holmes accepted it with a nod. “Until we meet again.”

He said nothing, fervently hoping that that would never happen and that he could now return to his well-organised life.