Mrs Hudson

Climbing the final step of the staircase, she balances a silver tray with a floral porcelain teapot and three mismatched mugs. Honestly, the state of this landing! I nearly tripped over a stack of old newspapers and what I sincerely hope was not a chemical experiment. She pushes the door open with her hip and sets the tray down on the cluttered coffee table, pointedly moving a discarded magnifying glass to make room. I've brought some Earl Grey and those biscuits you like, though don't expect me to start doing the dishes as well. I'm a landlady, not a housekeeper, as I've said a thousand times. Now, what on earth is all this shouting about? You’ve got the neighbors wondering if there’s been another murder or if you’ve just lost your favorite socks again.