from Sherlock Holmes Esq to Dr J Watson:

Watson –  You will think me somewhat rude, but I should be obliged if you could conduct a somewhat surreptitious test on our worthy domestic Mrs Hudson on your arrival, as I am becoming rather concerned as to the condition of her faculties. 

Only 5 minutes previously, she burst in on my Ablutions (which in itself was rather embarrassing, as I was immersed in personal, private matters) and announced, through the keyhole (as I had asked her, a tad brusquely, perhaps, to remove her presence from the smallest room, to which she replied, a mite sharply, in my opinion, that I should Jolly well lock the Bloody thing then), that there was an Invitation on the Mantelpiece, which had been sat sitting there since Saturday. 

After demanding why she had not informed me earlier of said Correspondence, the woman had the cheek to turn the blame on to my good self, complaining that I had been too wrapped up in my own affairs to pay attention to her attempts at communication, as usual, and went off muttering to herself, and asking unseen entities whether they would be able to put up with it – whatever “it” may be. 

Anyhow, having brushed myself down, and settled in to my Thinking Chair, I sliced the beggar open with my pocket-knife, and found it to be a Letter of Invitation for us both to join the reprobate Shelley, his common-law wife and her step-sister Claire, plus that scoundrel Byron, in Geneva ,for as long as we cared to join them. I harbour no illusions as to the reason for this invite –  simply my acquaintance with your good self and your access to Pharmaceutical substances – the pair have long attempted to harass me in their attempts to obtain “the Goods” – however, I have a mind to acquiesce on this occasion, as I believe we could have some sport here, and you may get a couple of good Stories out of it. 

Mull it over, and let me know what you think when you call round; ( by the way, amongst Hudson’s mutterings and remonstrations, I heard the phrases “if they think they’re having any of my Scented Foreign Fancies, they’ve another think coming!”  and  “my Puffed Custard Pillows are Definitely out-of-bounds!”   

Of course, we both know her bark is worse than her bite, so Fear Not! my friend, we shall be dribbling her mutton pie grease down our chins as always, in front of a roaring fire, amid clouds of Prime Shag, chuckling conspiratorially at exploits passed and still, tantalisingly, to come.

I await your presence, your friend, somewhat excited,
SH.