Catastrophe in a Cloister

by Fiona Grace

  The real Professor Noble nodded. “That’s how I found you. I fear it will now be very easy for any fraudster to find you. Just a few quick search terms will lead any opportunist in this direction.”

  “Oh no,” Lacey said, shaking her head with frustration.

  She felt terrible about her mistake. Now only would everyone now know about the scepter in her store, but the secret she’d promised to keep for Abbot Weeks was out of the bag. The head abbot had strictly forbidden her from talking about it even to Gina, but now anyone with an interest in archaeology could find it!

  “I don’t understand how the message went public,” Lacey continued. “I thought by pressing the envelope icon I was emailing you privately.”

  “I can see how that would seem confusing,” Professor Noble said, looking genuinely bad for her. “The website is very old. It’s been operating since the nineties. The infrastructure hasn’t changed since then. It can be less than counterintuitive to navigate. Here are my credentials, so you can be assured I am who I say I am.” He fumbled in his jacket and fished out a lanyard. He showed it to her. It was his Exeter College ID.

  “I should’ve known he was an imposter from the get-go,” Lacey said. “He barely reacted when I forewarned him I’m a Gryffindor.”

  Professor Noble’s eyes lit up. “Oh!” he exclaimed, letting out a nervous giggle. He waggled the end of his scarf. “And I a Hufflepuff. Perhaps our fake friend was a Slytherin? Posing as a different person would be quite a Slytherin thing to do.”

  Lacey couldn’t help but laugh in reply. “I suspect you’re right about that!”

  With the tension now broken, Lacey’s emotions over being duped began to fade. It was still a frustrating situation, but she was more interested now in getting on with the scepter work, rather than picking over the deception with a fine-tooth comb.

  “I’d better show you the object that’s caused all this fuss,” she said to the real Professor Noble, “now that we can be sure you’re who you say you are.”

  “Thank you,” the real Crispin Noble said. “I’m quite excited.”

  “This way, then,” she replied, beckoning him to follow her. “And just a heads-up, I have a monk guarding it. He doesn’t speak. I figured it was best to tell you now, since you’ve already had one nasty surprise today.”

  Crispin smiled as he followed after her. “That’s most considerate of you.”

  They headed into the back room. The box with the scepter was still laid out open on the table, with the ever-watchful eye of Brother Benedict keeping it safe. Lacey could tell from the look in his eyes that he was baffled by what had just transpired. It almost looked like he was curious enough about it to break his prayerful silence, but he held back and simply nodded at Lacey and the different man walking in beside her, who was in fact the real Crispin Noble.

  “Here,” Lacey announced, gesturing to the scepter. “Feast your eyes on that.”

  Professor Noble paced closer, adjusting his spectacles as he went. “Hmm.”

  He began inspecting it from all angles, quirking his head this way and that in a manner that reminded her of a bird.

  “Hmm,” he said again, leaning in so close his face was right in the crate.

  Lacey couldn’t help but feel a little disconcerted. His reaction was very different from how the treasure hunter had behaved, and hmm wasn’t telling her very much at all. Perhaps she’d been mistaken in thinking the scepter was valuable?

  With growing nerves, she glanced back at Brother Benedict. He seemed even more nervous than she was. He was watching Crispin Noble with a look of anxious expectation in his eyes.

  “Well,” Crispin said, straightening up.

  “What do you think?” Lacey asked immediately.

  “Well,” he said again.

  The anticipation was killing her. His reaction was so muted, so different from the treasure hunter’s, Lacey couldn’t help but fear that the scepter wasn’t a piece of treasure at all, and that the treasure hunter had just been faking his reaction in an attempt to make it seem more alluring, and to nudge her toward selling it for profit.

  “Well?” Lacey prompted, wringing her hands with increasing anxiety.

  “I’m not sure,” Crispin said finally, in a moment of complete and utter letdown. “May I take a photo? I will have to do some research. It will help to have a photograph to draw back on.”

  Lacey chewed her lip. It seemed the “secret” scepter was becoming less and less so with every moment that passed. She looked at Brother Benedict for guidance. He nodded.

  “Go for it,” she said to Crispin, though she was far from thrilled about it.

  As the professor began to snap several photographs from different angles, Lacey felt a sudden wave of nausea overcome her. With a spike of panic, she thought again of the pregnancy scare she’d been trying so hard to ignore.

  “I’m sorry not to be much help,” Crispin said as he worked. “But I’m sure with some research I’ll be able to find some answers for you.”

  Lacey swallowed, the sick feeling wavering inside of her. “Anything you can do will be appreciated,” she squeaked.

  As he continued taking photos, Lacey tried to focus her mind away from the wave of nausea and back to the moment. But it was no good. The more she tried to ignore it, the stronger it seemed to become, and now her salivary glands were getting in on the action to, flooding her mouth with fluid as if in preparation for hurling.

  Suddenly, she felt a hand on her arm. She looked over to see Brother Benedict looking at her with concern. Though she’d been discreet and tried to hide her nausea, the perceptive monk had sensed something was wrong. But without having to say out loud what it was that was bothering her, and knowing she was no longer alone in her discomfort, Lacey suddenly felt a calmness overcome her. The sick feeling subsided.

  “I think that’s enough,” Professor Noble said, straightening up and returning his cell to his pocket. “Leave this with me. I’m on the case.”

  Now fully recovered from her fit of sickness, Lacey smiled at Crispin. “How long do you think your research will take?”

  “I can’t say,” Professor Noble replied. “But I promise to keep you in the loop every step of the way. I suspect I won’t have anything until the morning at the earliest.”

  Lacey led him back out to the shop floor and escorted him to the door. “Okay, thank you, Professor. You’ve been very helpful.”

  She shook the man’s hand, and he headed out into the street.

  She was about to close the door after him when she heard voices coming from the distance. It sounded like a commotion had broken out farther up the road. By the accents of the people involved, Lacey deduced it was some kind of ruckus between tourists. American tourists…

  Suddenly, she realized she recognized the voices. It was her Mom, Naomi, and Frankie. But they were early!

  Immediately panicked, Lacey peered out the door and up the street, wondering how on earth they’d managed to make trouble when they’d literally only just arrived. But when her eyes found the three of them clustered farther up the road her stomach dropped into her toes. They were not alone. There were two other figures with them. One was Gina. The other … was Frank.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Lacey’s chest sank as her eyes homed in on the sight of her family halfway along the high street, arguing with one another. This was exactly the scenario she’d been hoping to avoid.

  In a panic, she raced out of her store and ran along the cobblestone street toward where her family had clustered together. The closer she got, the more of the scene she digested and the worse she felt.

  Shirley, it seemed, was the aggressor. She was squaring up to Frank—despite him having well over a foot of height on her—and was wagging her pointer finger in his face. Her floral traveling case was lying in the gutter as if she’d literally flung it aside to free up her hands. Why she needed her hands free, Lacey dreaded to think.

  A small audience of onlookers had gathered and w
ere watching the scene unfold with equal parts fascination and concern. Lacey’s toes curled. She hated being the center of attention at the best of times; she couldn’t think of a worse circumstance to have so many eyes on her than the one she was about to rush into.

  The devil on her shoulder told her to turn back around and let her parents sort out their own problems—they were both adults, after all—but when she spotted her sister openly weeping into her hands while being comforted by her gingernut nephew she had to accept the only person who could resolve this situation was her. This was her responsibility. She had no choice but to throw herself into the fire.

  “Mom! Dad!” she shouted as she drew up to them and halted beside a stunned-looking Gina. “Please calm down! Let’s talk about this!”

  But neither of her parents seemed to even notice her. They were so wrapped up in their own emotions it was as if they had forgotten the world existed outside of them.

  “You’re a disgrace!” Shirley was busy screaming at Frank. “Call yourself a man? What kind of man walks out on his children? His wife?”

  Frank meanwhile just stood there, taking the berating and giving Shirley nothing in return. This evidently riled her further.

  “Well?” she demanded, her face going a deeper shade of red. “What have you got to say for yourself?”

  The audience was murmuring to one another, clearly thoroughly entertained by the drama unfolding on the streets of their quaint little town. Lacey felt a pit open up in her stomach. All those prying eyes. All those whispers and stares. And this whole ruckus was her fault in the first place. She was the one who’d tracked Frank down and asked him to walk her down the aisle.

  “Mom!” Lacey tried again, pleadingly. “Please calm down!”

  But her words fell on deaf ears.

  Gina turned to her, a stunned look on her face. “Lacey, I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, having to raise her voice over the din. “The second Frank spotted them out the window he went running.”

  “I told you to take him off the high street!” Lacey cried, raising her own voice which was at a risk of being entirely drowned out by Shirley. “And to sit away from the windows!”

  “I know, I know,” Gina said, shaking her head apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

  There was no point dwelling on that now. What was done was done, and the only thing left to do was find a solution.

  Feeling flustered, Lacey turned back to her family. She quickly assessed the situation and decided that Frankie was her best bet. How telling that out of the three of them, the eight-year-old was the most sensible, the one most easily reasoned with.

  She hurried over to her ginger-haired nephew, forcing a smile onto her face.

  “Frankie!” she exclaimed, trying to look happy and in control for his sake.

  He saw her and grinned. “Aunty Lacey!”

  He made motions to embrace her, but then looked at his weeping mother and clearly thought better of it. Lacey ruffled his ginger curls instead.

  “I’m so happy to see you,” she told him.

  “You too,” Frankie said. “Only, I don’t understand why Grandma is shouting at that man and why Mom is crying.”

  “Well,” Lacey said, taking a deep breath. How to condense thirty years of hurt into a soundbite suitable for the ears of an eight-year-old? “That man is actually your grandpa. And your grandma is shouting at him because sometimes when people love each other a lot they can get really hurt when the other person does something mean to them.”

  “Oh,” Frankie said, looking like he was taking it all in. “So is he mean?”

  Lacey shook her head. “No. He’s a good man. But he did a mean thing, once upon a time, and Grandma hasn’t forgiven him yet. Neither has your mom.” She looked over at Naomi, who was still covering her eyes with her hands, but was now peeking out through her fingers at Lacey.

  “Hey sis,” Naomi snuffled.

  “Hey,” Lacey said. She opened her arms for a hug. Naomi hesitated, then folded into them.

  The two sisters held one another tightly as the sound of their mother unleashing thirty years of hurt reverberated around them.

  “Thirty years!” she shouted. “Thirty years, Frank! Without a word. I thought you were DEAD!”

  The audience of onlookers was making Lacey’s toes curl. She needed to get away from all these prying eyes.

  She moved out of Naomi’s embrace and looked into her sister’s brown, tear-filled eyes. “How about you and Frankie go to the store?” she suggested gently. “It’s just up there on the left. Gina can go with you. You can say hi to Chester and Boudica. Have a cup of tea.” She cast a wary glance at her parents. “While I deal with this.”

  Naomi sniffed her tears and nodded. She took hold of the handle of her case in one hand and Frankie’s hand in the other, then tipped her chin up.

  “Gina?” Lacey said. “Can you take Naomi and Frankie to the store and make them a snack and tea? I’m sure they’re famished after their journey.”

  Gina looked instantly relieved to have some way of making amends with Lacey.

  “Of course, right this way!” she exclaimed, beckoning Naomi and Frankie to follow her. “I told the dogs you were coming. They’re both very excited.”

  Lacey watched them begin to walk to the store then turned back to her quarreling parents. Stressed, embarrassed, and feeling totally caught in the middle of an impossible situation, Lacey took a tentative step closer.

  “Mom! Dad!” she exclaimed, forcing herself to stand right int the middle of them.

  At last, they finally noticed her presence and stopped shouting. And it had only taken her wedging herself literally in front of their faces to achieve it!

  Shirley blinked at Lacey as if coming out of a trance. “Oh. Hello.”

  “Hi,” Lacey said through a tight jaw. She turned to Frank, as the more reasonable of the pair. “Dad, I really need you to go somewhere else right now, okay?”

  “What? Why?” her father asked. “We’re meeting in a few hours anyway.”

  “Then you only need to kill a few hours, don’t you?” Lacey replied, tersely.

  Frank sighed. “This is silly. I just want to speak to them.”

  “Silly?” Shirley began to squawk. “Did you really just have the audacity to call my pain silly?!”

  “As you can see, now is not a good time,” Lacey said to Frank, raising her voice to be heard over Shirley’s cries. “Or place!” She gestured to the watching crowd.

  Frank looked about himself. It was if he hadn’t even realized they were drawing the attention of everyone on the high street, and was now surprised to see the gathered crowd. But it didn’t seem to embarrass him in the same way it did Lacey. Perhaps, she wondered, that was because he didn’t live here and wouldn’t have to walk past them every day for the rest of his life!

  “Please, Dad,” she pleaded. “They’re all jet lagged. They’ve been traveling for hours. Emotions are running high. There’s a reason why I planned the dinner as a reunion, rather than the middle of the street.”

  She couldn’t help but feel annoyed that her carefully considered reunion plans had been for nothing. What a waste of effort. She shouldn’t have even bothered trying. Maybe she should just lock the two of them in the back office to hash it out. They’d wear themselves out eventually. Brother Benedict could officiate…

  But no. Lacey reminded herself this was for Naomi. Her fragile sister simply couldn’t cope with the drama in the same way Lacey could.

  Lacey found her resolve once again. She slung her arm around Frank’s shoulder and guided him away from the screeching Shirley.

  “Why don’t you go for a cliff hike?” she suggested. “You love the Wilfordshire cliffs so much, and I can lend you Chester if you want someone to keep you company. It’s just for a few hours, until they’re settled in.”

  Frank considered her suggestion for a moment. Then, reluctantly, he said, “Fine. I’ll go for a hike. But I don’t need Chester, I’m perfectly capable
of walking on my own.” He paused and gave her a kiss on the cheek. As he drew back, his gaze went over her shoulder at Shirley, who was scowling so deeply her entire face seemed to be all frown. “Good luck with her,” he muttered, ruefully.

  “I heard that!” Shirly screamed, before launching once more into her rant. “And you’ve got some nerve! I’m only like this because of YOU! Thirty years of worry, not to mention ten godawful wasted years of marriage!”

  “Save it for dinner!” Frank shouted back.

  Shirley scoffed.

  Lacey sighed and gave her father a gentle but firm push in the opposite direction, steering him away from Shirley. The one thing that was worse than the pair of them nose-to-nose in a screaming match was the pair of them several feet apart in a screaming match.

  “Dad,” Lacey urged. “Go!”

  Finally, Frank relented. With a stroppy huff, he turned on his heel and marched away, shoulders hunched, hands shoved deeply into his pockets.

  Well, that could’ve gone better, Lacey thought as she watched him strop away. But at least no fists had flown.

  It pained her to see her father that way. It was not a side of him she’d seen before, or at least, not since getting back in touch. She may well have witnessed this behavior before as a child. It was quite far from the jolly man in the laundry room who seemed able to take Shirley’s sniping in his stride. And she certainly didn’t care for it.

  Feeling like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, Lacey turned back to her mother. She’d picked up her floral carry-on case from the gutter and was holding it tightly in her arms like it was a punching bag. Lacey approached and prized it from her hands, then looped her arm through hers.

  “Shall we go to the store and talk?” she said, forcing out a calmness she did not feel.

  Shirley snorted from her nose. She was still watching Frank as he slunk away along the cobblestones. “Fine,” she replied.

  Red-faced and embarrassed, Lacey guided her away from the crowd. She already felt weary and the visit had barely even begun. This was exactly the opposite of how she’d wanted the trip to start. Things with her mom could be difficult at the best of times, and now the whole trip had started off on the wrong foot.