"The Richest Man in London," November 2023 Holmes Minor Monthly Prompt

[gardnerhill]

Title: The Richest Man in London
Author: gardnerhill
Fandom: ACD
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Word Count: 500
Rating: G
Warning: None
Summary: Watson gains a little credit.
Author's Notes: Written for the November 2023 Holmes Minor monthly prompt, "Credit." Inspired by the financial fables contained in the 1929 book The Richest Man in Babylon by George Clason.

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Story on Dreamwidth
Story on AO3



Losing my rent money to the racetrack for the second time since January was the last straw.

I’d developed a soldier’s spending habits: penury till I was paid, then spending the money all at once by paying off (some) debts, squandering the rest on drink and women and dice, then borrow or cadge or live on credit until paid again. I was a hair away from joining other penniless former soldiers in Hyde Park the day I spent my last coin on a drink at the Criterion and ran into Stamford.

Sherlock Holmes didn’t throw me out after the first instance in May – he was in as precarious a position as I, because he needed my help with the rent. He’d also deduced instantly when I came home with empty pockets once again in August. That he did not give me so much as a reproachful tone was the deciding factor; I swore that I would prove worthy of that respect or die in the gutter. I would not beg Mrs. Hudson for credit nor an extension.

I paid my rent-share that month. Then I began to make changes. Some were of necessity; I had to stay home a few rainy days that summer, as my boots and overcoat were at the pawnbroker’s and I didn’t dare risk getting ill. I also dug up an empty tobacco tin in my room and began to end the day by dropping in any coins I had in my pocket (that brief empty rattle of a few pennies mocking my resolve).

Week after week I made myself walk past the pub to go into my room and drop the shilling (and sometimes two) into the tin instead, before having my solitary cup of tea. The same whenever my fingers itched for cards or I read a racing newspaper; I would remember Holmes casually offering to lock my chequebook away in his own desk drawer to keep it safe from pilfering servants (as if an unscrupulous maid would get past Mrs. Hudson’s vetting!), and tighten my fist around my cash to honour that salvation of my dignity. After a time the solid clink of the coins in the tin gave more pleasure to me than would a dice-throw or a flutter at the track. Something else grew with that tin of coins; I gained more enjoyment over a glass of cheap brandy with my new friend in our parlour than in a round of tavern drinks among strangers.

I retrieved my coat and boots. I paid my rent-share. And I now had a money reserve that I did not need immediately. I continued to save, for I had gained the habit. I walked easier and held my head higher.

At Christmastime I presented Holmes with a bottle of good Cognac alongside my half of the rent money. I treasure his words more than the plush dressing-gown he gifted me: “My dear Watson, your triumph over your pecuniary peril is a credit to your resolve.”

Comments

[smallhobbit]

This is lovely 🙂

[scfrankles]

I'd never heard of The Richest Man in Babylon before. Interesting stuff.

And it's so moving in your story that, though Watson of course has to do all the hard work of changing his habits, it's Holmes' respect for and lack of judgment towards Watson that spurs him on and changes his life.

[gardnerhill]

Holmes clearly saw the diamond hiding in that rough damaged soldier.