Benedict Cumberbatch: Life With Ben

Chapter Four: My Uncle Is My Maths Teacher

Some time past after the motivational phone call from Monsieur Cumberbatch, and it was now the middle of February. It was only a matter of months before the beginning of my GCSEs, so I was stressing out like hell, but I always kept a smile on my face and tried to stay as positive as I could. I did this by repeating the words Nothing is impossible. The word itself says I'm possible. I know it was only a sentence and it probably sounded cheesy or pathetic to others who didn't understand the meaning behind the saying and why it meant so much to me. But did I care? No, not a single bit. Only a few people knew the real meaning and the story behind this saying and they swore an oath of loyalty to me that they would not tell a soul. A oath of loyalty? You may be thinking, why be so pedantic?! Well I shall tell you why. It was because people were quick to judge and label at my school, so it was very likely that people would have thought I was lying about this, even though I wasn't. I only told four of my close friends; Lucy, Jem, Amiee & Millie. They all swore not to tell anyone, but I ended up telling my maths teacher, as well, as he was a massive fanboy and it would have been so hard to fangirl about Benedict without him, as he was my fangirling buddy. That might sound a bit weird, but my maths teacher had met Benedict and Martin Freeman five times and he cried every time he meet them (I've seen photographic evidence). My maths teacher also happened to be my dad's brother- making him my uncle, but not a lot of people know that, only a few of my friends. I didn't want them to know but they only found out because they saw me getting in to his car a few months back after school. A few of the teachers know but they have swore an oath of loyalty as well not to tell anyone.

It was Friday and school had just finished for the half term and I had agreed to spend the week with my uncle gardening. When I say gardening what we were actually going to do was sit in his front room and watch Sherlock all week and then rush the gardening on the last day to look like we haven't been sitting at home all week crying and fangirling over Sherlock.

I was in my Uncle Sam's car (my maths-teacher-uncle) on the way back to his cottage in the middle of Manston or as I like to call it heaven! Where Sam's cottage was situated looked like a fairy tale landscape. The cottage was surrounded by emerald green grass that sparkled in the mornings when little dew drops was sprinkled on top of the grass sticking to the points of the blades of grass. The door of the cottage was wooden with a white wooden arched way that surrounded the door. To get to the door you had to go through a green wooden gate that was around 2 1/2 feet tall. Once opening the gate, you would be greeted by a pebble path that crunched when you walked across them, whilst your feet sunk into the ground. Decorated along the outside of the cottage were different coloured flowers all in a rainbow formation. The cottage itself was beautiful! It was dainty and looked like it should be owned but a little old lady or a fairy in Pixie Hollow. It had white walls what were built up with bricks. The roof was wooden but was protected from the rain by the overhanging tree branches from the holly trees.

We pulled up outside the cottage and we clambered out of his tiny red Mini. I went around to the back and collected my suitcases whilst Sam collected his briefcase whilst trying not to drop our McDonald's on the floor. I opened the gate allowing Sam to come through. The wheels of my suitcase crunched against the pebbles whilst I sped down the path to the front door to try and open it before Sam got there because the McDonald's bag was ripping and the grease and the salt was dripping and making itself at home on Sam's brief case. I dropped my suitcase and tried to get the key into the keyhole, but the keyhole was acting like a toddler refusing to eat his food. No matter what angle the key went in, the keyhole refused to consume the key until I had to ram the key into the hole. Clink! Went the lock and the door swung open, revealing to myself and Sam a cottage good enough for a duchess to live in. The house was spotless with only vintage furniture and decoration. The only modern appliance was the television. That was a 3D 52" wide screen plasma television what would most probably cost £1005 from Comet or PC world. But my goodness it was a beauty! If you saw it you would have understood why we were planning on watching it all week. We called her Tess the Life Destroyer because all the programmes Tess showed us killed us on the inside and always reduced us to tears. But we loved Tess dearly!