Catastrophe in a Cloister

by Fiona Grace

  Taryn shook her head. “No, no. Not for me.” She looked at the monk standing beside Lacey. “You can share them with this …relative of yours?”

  “Oh!” Lacey exclaimed, amused by the idea of having a distant monk cousin. “This is Brother Benedict from St. Cyril’s Abbey. He’s helping me with some work.”

  “Sounds exciting,” Taryn said. She curtseyed to the monk. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  “He doesn’t speak,” Lacey explained.

  Taryn let out a delighted gasp. “He sounds like my kind of man!”

  Lacey rolled her eyes and unlocked the door. Taryn, it seemed, would flirt with anyone, be it Lacey’s elderly father or, in this case, a man who’d taken a vow of celibacy.

  The lock yielded and Lacey gestured Chester and Brother Benedict inside. Lacey followed, pausing in the open doorway to look at Taryn, still standing in the street.

  “Well, thanks again for this,” Lacey said. “It was really kind of you.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Taryn said, not moving a muscle.

  Lacey realized what was going on. She wanted the invite. Right here, right now. Well, Lacey wasn’t about to give it to her.

  “I’d better get on with my work,” Lacey added, taking hold of the door and starting to close it.

  “Right,” Taryn replied. But still she did not move.

  “Got a lot to be getting on with,” Lacey continued.

  Taryn just wasn’t getting the hint. She left Lacey no choice but to begin to slowly shut the door on her.

  “Oh, and Lacey,” Taryn called when there was just an inch of space left, “do let me know if you’d like to do anything this week. I have a completely clear schedule! It could be anything, morning or night. Even a group thing would be fine!”

  “I’ll let you know,” Lacey said, finally closing the door.

  It shut with a click and Lacey let out a sigh. Then she turned, only to discover Brother Benedict was standing there, watching her with an extremely amused expression on his face.

  “She’s fishing for an invite to my wedding,” Lacey explained.

  He raised his brows in what appeared to be a questioning manner. He probably wanted to know why she wasn’t inviting her.

  “It’s complicated,” Lacey mumbled. “Come on, let’s get to work.”

  They headed into the back office. Lacey turned on her computer to see whether Crispin Noble, the archaeology specialist from Exeter College, had emailed her back. But before she even had a chance to log in, she heard the loud sound of Gina coming in through the main door.

  “Cooey! Lacey?” she cried. “Where are you?”

  Lacey gave Brother Benedict a look. “Please excuse me one moment,” she said.

  She headed onto the shop floor to see what Gina wanted, only to discover her friend was not alone. There was a man with her.

  “Look who I just bumped into,” Gina said.

  Lacey gasped.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “DAD?!” Lacey cried, staring at her father standing on the welcome mat of the store. He was dressed in his farmer’s garb, a big waterproof jacket, mud-streaked pants, and dirty wellies with manure and hay stuck to the bottoms. Through the window, his old cattle truck was parked badly in the street.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” Frank said.

  Lacey hurried to her father, arms wide, and they embraced.

  But as she moved out of his embrace, Lacey suddenly panicked. He wasn’t supposed to be here until evening. Her mom, sister, and Frankie were due to arrive in half an hour and this was not how she wanted the family reunion to go down. She had to get rid of him, and quick!

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I wanted to surprise you,” Frank said.

  “You surprised me, all right,” Lacey replied, breathlessly. “I didn’t think you were driving up until the meal this evening.”

  “I thought it would be nice to have breakfast together first,” Frank said. His voice dropped. “Just the two of us.”

  Lacey could tell from his expression he was anxious about the family reunion dinner later, and she couldn’t blame him. Her mom and sister had given him quite the frosty reception during their awkward speakerphone conversation. Though things had been tense between Lacey and Frank initially, at least he had the comfort of knowing she’d attempted to find him, that despite all the conflicting emotions over his abandonment of her as a child all those years ago, she must have forgiven him in some way or she would never have gone to such lengths to find him. But the others? They would have happily seen out the rest of their days without ever seeing him again. The thought must weigh on him terribly, Lacey thought.

  But as bad as she felt for her father in his time of insecurity, she absolutely did not want them all bumping into one another. She needed to think of an excuse to get rid of him.

  “I’m really sorry, Dad,” she said, pointing to the paper bag of pastries she’d left on the counter. “I’ve already had breakfast, courtesy of Taryn. And I have a ton of work to be doing this morning.”

  “Lacey decided to take on a mystery antiquing project,” Gina interjected, explaining the situation with more than a hint of disapproval. “Right before her wedding! And right after Tom accidentally saw her in her dress.” She shook her head and tutted.

  Frank frowned with confusion. But Lacey didn’t want to get into it. In fact, she didn’t have time to get into it. The clock was ticking away. Her family was due any minute.

  “I could take you for breakfast though,” Gina continued.

  That just wouldn’t do. Lacey wanted Frank out of Wilfordshire entirely. Not only did she not want her dad and mom accidentally bumping into one another in town, she didn’t even want them accidentally spotting one another! The plan was to introduce everyone properly over dinner, in a controlled, comfortable, and extremely chaperoned situation.

  “Actually, Gina,” Lacey said quickly with a hinting tone, “I really need you to help me with something this morning.”

  “Let me guess,” Gina said, folding her arms. “It’s something to do with the monk?” She looked at Frank and added with disdain, “This extra work is for a monastery.”

  Lacey tensed. Gina was clearly not picking up on the hint, and the more she brought up about the monastery work, the more questions she was raising, and the longer it would take for her to get rid of her dad. She simply didn’t have time to explain the whole scepter situation right now!

  “Right, fine, you guys go for breakfast,” she said, quickly amending her plans. If she couldn’t get her dad out of Wilfordshire entirely, at least having Gina the chatterbox occupy him for an hour with all her superstitions over the monastery situation would be the next best thing. “Have a long breakfast, though. And somewhere special, not on the high street. And wherever you go, don’t sit by any windows! Because of… UV.”

  They both looked confused as she ushered them out the door and into the distinctly overcast drizzly English winter day, where the last thing anyone needed to worry about was getting sun damage.

  As soon as the door shut behind them, Lacey glanced at the clock. Ten past nine. That felt like a close call! But Gina and Frank should be settled in somewhere and out of sight within the next twenty minutes. As long as they followed her instructions and took a long breakfast, Lacey should have enough time to get her mom, sister, and nephew in and back out again before they returned.

  She was about to return to her work when the door opened behind her and the bell went. Of course, with Gina out of the store for the foreseeable future, she’d now have to juggle all the customers alone. Just what she needed, when she had so many other things to do!

  She turned as a man with brown hair and a beige plaid shirt beneath a blue waterproof winter jacket walked in. He scuffed his shiny black brogues on the welcome mat and looked up at Lacey poised in the middle of the shop floor.

  “Hello,” he said, jovially. “I’m here from the archaeological society.”

  “Oh
!” Lacey exclaimed with surprise. “You must be Crispin Noble.” She’d not had a chance to check her emails yet that morning, having been interrupted by Gina and her father. But it was quite obvious from the man’s attire that he was a professorial type. “I didn’t realize you were planning on dropping by,” she continued. “And so soon. I must say, that’s very quick. I only emailed you yesterday.”

  “Well, when someone finds an ancient scepter with a Latin inscription, it’s really impossible for someone like me to resist!” he exclaimed.

  “Come with me, I’ll show you,” Lacey said. “Although, I must warn you in advance, I am a Gryffindor.”

  She chuckled. But her Harry Potter reference didn’t elicit quite the response she was expecting from Crispin Noble. Instead of laughing along, he merely blinked. Perhaps he took being a Hufflepuff very seriously…

  “Chester,” Lacey called over to her dog. “Can you please be on duty?”

  Chester trotted to the door and took up his sentry pose.

  “He’s well trained,” Crispin commented, as he followed Lacey under the arch.

  “Oh yes, he’s very obedient,” Lacey said over her shoulder. “My very own Hedwig.”

  Once again, her Harry Potter reference fell completely flat. She wondered whether Professor Noble had actually written his bio on the archaeological website after all. Maybe he had naughty children who’d gone in there and changed it for him on his behalf for fun!

  She headed into the office, where Brother Benedict was standing silently in the corner.

  “This is Brother Benedict,” she said to Crispin.

  Crispin visibly started when he realized there was a robed monk standing there, completely still and in utter silence. A hand fluttered to his chest.

  “He’s overseeing the work with the scepter,” Lacey explained, quickly. She was so used to Brother Benedict now she’d forgotten just how disconcerting his presence was to begin with. “He doesn’t speak. Brother Benedict, this is Professor Noble from the archaeological society.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Crispin said hesitantly. He held a hand out to Brother Benedict, looking uncertain about whether this was the correct way to greet a monk. Brother Benedict took the hand in both of his and bowed. It was halfway between a handshake and something altogether more pious, and Crispin smiled nervously in response.

  “The scepter is locked in the safe,” Lacey explained. “If you’d like to come with me.”

  She led the two men out of the office and into the back room where the big steel safe was. Then she put in the combination and pulled open the thick steel door, before removing the wooden crate containing the scepter. She laid it carefully on the table at the side and lifted off the wooden lid, revealing the half cleaned golden scepter lying inside.

  “Oh gosh,” Crispin said in awe. “Oh goodness me.”

  He tiptoed closer and peered down at the scepter with widening eyes. It almost seemed to Lacey that he knew exactly what he was looking at.

  “Do you recognize it?” she asked, feeling the first flutters of excitement inside of her.

  “I do,” Crispin replied, sounding almost mesmerized. “I know exactly what you have here. That’s more than a relic—it’s a treasure.”

  Lacey heart skipped a beat. Treasure? That sounded very mysterious! Images of pirates with stolen bounty stashed away in the walls of the monastery popped into her mind. She glanced at Brother Benedict to see whether he was as excited as she was, but he appeared to be as placid as always.

  She turned back to the gawking Crispin.

  “So you know what it is?” she pressed, eager for more. “You know who it belonged to?”

  “I do,” Crispin replied, almost breathless with wonder. “And I’d be very happy to tell you…”

  The anticipation made Lacey’s heart race even faster. She felt like she was on tenterhooks, and held her breath in expectation.

  Crispin straightened up and looked her straight in the eyes. “…But I’ll only tell you what I know if you agree to split the profits from its sale with me.”

  Lacey felt herself deflate like a balloon. Her eyebrows drew in together. “What?”

  Professor Noble’s demeanor suddenly changed. Gone was the wide-eyed, awestruck, affable professor, and in its place instead was a greedy Golem.

  “Fifty-fifty split,” he said firmly.

  “I’m not selling it,” Lacey said abruptly. “At least not for profit. It belongs to St. Cyril’s Abbey.” She pointed to Brother Benedict. “The proceeds are going to them so they can continue their community work. My involvement here is charitable.”

  Crispin huffed and folded his arms. “That’s a shame. I thought you wanted my expertise. But clearly not.”

  Lacey was shocked. Affronted. “I do want your expertise, but there’s no money involved.”

  “So you expect me to help you for free?” Crispin replied with a tone of utter contempt.

  Lacey’s mouth fell open. She could not quite believe how childish this man’s behavior was! He was acting less like a professor and more like a pupil! First he was humorless about her Harry Potter references, and now he was being stubborn about sharing his wisdom. What an awful man. He’d come across as so friendly and sweet from his profile at the archaeological society forum, but clearly judging someone from how they presented themselves on the internet was a fool’s errand.

  Lacey opened her mouth to argue back, when she was cut off by the sound of Chester barking. He was alerting her to someone entering the store. She looked at Brother Benedict.

  “Could you please supervise our friend here?” she asked, putting emphasis on her sarcastic choice of endearment. “I have to attend to a customer.”

  Brother Benedict nodded.

  Lacey turned on her heel and marched away, still fuming about the encounter with the awful Professor Crispin Noble.

  When she made it to the shop floor, she noticed a man waiting at the counter, bundled up in a gray duffle coat with a yellow and black striped scarf. He smiled at her as she slid in behind the counter.

  “Lacey?” he said, holding out his hand to shake. “I’m Professor Crispin Noble from Exeter College. I’m here about your message.”

  Lacey’s mouth dropped open. Suddenly it twigged that the yellow and black stripy scarf were the colors of Hufflepuff! This was Professor Crispin Noble. But then … who was that in her back office?!

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lacey blinked with astonishment at the man standing at her counter. “I—I’m sorry. You’re Crispin Noble?”

  “That’s right,” he said, his expression becoming disconcerted as he took in Lacey’s stunned response. “Is everything okay? I sent you a message about dropping by today, but I can leave if it’s not a good time.”

  “No, it’s…” Lacey shook her head. “It’s just that… you’re already here!”

  Professor Noble’s eyebrows drew together. But before Lacey had a chance to say more, a sudden movement came from behind.

  Her heart flew into her mouth. She swirled around to see the imposter now standing in the archway behind her. She felt suddenly very afraid. Who was this strange man pretending to be someone he was not? How had he even found her?

  “Who are you?” Lacey demanded, her voice quivering with fear.

  But rather than looking menacing or dangerous, the imposter’s face turned beet red. His eyes were wide as he regarded the man standing at the counter. He looked like less of a threat and more like a naughty child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

  “WHO ARE YOU?” Lacey demanded again. This time the fear in her voice was replaced with fury. How dare this stranger come here and try to dupe her? He had a lot to answer for!

  “I—I—” he floundered. “I’m just a treasure hunter. That’s all.”

  He darted the rest of the way through the arch and hurried past Lacey and the real Crispin Noble, beelining for the store door. Chester tracked the shady figure as he went, tail wagging with curiosity, looking very eager
for Lacey to give him the command to take the man down. And she was very tempted. Something untoward was definitely going on here. But the fake Crispin’s evident embarrassment made her feel it was not criminal, and didn’t warrant unleashing her guard dog upon.

  “A treasure hunter?” she called after him as he scarpered across the floorboards. “What does that mean? How did you find me?”

  He reached the door and hauled it open, making the bell jangle noisily. “Consider my offer,” he said hurriedly. “Fifty-fifty. It’s a good one.” And with that, he made a very undignified exit, earning himself a disapproving yap from Chester.

  As the dust settled on the strange encounter, Lacey leaned both her hands on the counter to steady herself from the shock. Her heart was racing. Her mind turning. What had just happened?

  The real Crispin Noble turned back from the door where he’d been watching the whole scene unfold. He frowned, looking utterly bemused. “I’m sorry, but what on earth is going on here?”

  “I wish I knew,” Lacey replied. “That man,” she stammered, pointing at the door, “was pretending to be you!”

  Professor Noble’s eyebrows rose slowly. “He was… pretending to be me? But why? I must say that’s a first.”

  Lacey was utterly confounded by it all. “I can only assume it was so he could see the scepter. But now I think about it, he only ever said he was from the archaeological society. I just presumed it was you, since you were the one I emailed, and I suppose he just went along with it for whatever reason. Come to think of it, I emailed you specifically. So how the heck did some random treasure hunter know how to find me?”

  “Ah,” Professor Noble said. “Actually, you didn’t email me. You put your message on the society’s forum. It’s a public forum.”

  Lacey gasped. “You mean to say anyone can read it?”

  “All and sundry, I’m afraid,” Professor Noble said.

  “I said to come to my antiques store on Wilfordshire High Street,” Lacey said with a groan. Her heart plummeted as the gravity of her mistake set in. “This is the only antiques store on Wilfordshire High Street!”