I made that tomato thing the other night. It was nice. Probably nicer cold, actually, the next day.
Work's...busy, I suppose. As predicted, my mind isn't exactly on it as much as it should be.
Had to go and visit the mortuary this morning. Molly gave me a hug, said I looked like I needed it and that she'd read what happened.
It's sort of...don't know, feels like it's not really happening, in some ways.
I got a stack of post, was working through it, and this envelope, well, the only unusual thing was that it was handwritten, neat capitals, and the address was quite vague. My name, NSY, London. I mean, obviously it's going to get here, and we do get all sorts of things delivered - anonymous tip offs, threats, evidence, even, sometimes, from the public. So things like that always go through security checks before they reach us.
Opened it up and it was pictures. I sort of thought they might be from Rach or Nicky, at first. I mean, they were those sorts of pictures. Mainly me, John and Sherlock, because we tended to stick together more. Mycroft spent a lot of the afternoon off with Carla a little way away. So in the shots were Nicky, Carla, Paul, Rach, even Jess. It was sort of surreal, realising they were of us, but not...none of us could have taken them, and then it hitting me, that with no note, nothing else, the implication that someone had been there, watching us.
I couldn't get hold of John, then I did get Nicky, couldn't get Rach, had my office phone and my mobile ringing different people, called Mrs Holmes, who listened, then said she'd sort things out and put me through to Anthea, too. Anthea said she'd find John and the boys, Mrs H said she'd send someone to Rach's, and Nicky said she'd get hold of Carla and Paul and then check on Rach too.
Even though we live like we do, and we know there's always a security threat, I think I had sort of been lulled into a sense of security, because Anth and everyone are always around. And then suddenly it hit, and it wasn't just the four of us, but the rest of my family too. I suppose I never quite thought it would effect them.
I don't know, it's such an invasion, which probably sounds stupid, given how much we share on here. And I've called or texted John what is undoubtedly an annoying number of times today, but I just hate not being with them. Even though it's not as if me being there would make them any safer than I know they are.
So now it's all with forensics and no doubt Mrs H is doing things behind the scenes too.
I keep thinking they were actually quite nice pictures. We looked happy.