Sabre awoke in a warm bed for the first time since her arrest, many months ago. Next to the bed was a radiator that had been completely covered in books the night before. It made her wonder if it had ever even been used, but miraculously it worked just fine. She had relocated the piles of books, including the ones around the radiator to a trunk that was at the foot of the bed. What few belongings she owned she had tossed into the closet.
Sabre stretched and shuffled towards the bathroom, the blanket still wrapped tightly around her. She started the shower, and even though it took an eternity for the water to heat up, it eventually did. In fact, everything worked. She had to give him credit. Al was good at fixing things. Both the bell at the front door and the flush to the toilet were repaired before Sabre had even got settled in last night.
After a quick shower Sabre got dressed in her only remaining fresh set of clothes and explored the kitchen. She opened the cabinets with a loud creak. There was a dusty microwave and few dishes. The next set of cabinets held... Nothing.
Of course not, Sabre’s stomach growled loudly. She eyed the mason jar that had been left sitting on the counter.
Nope, no way, not that desperate yet.
She looked out the window. A thin layer of snow had settled, making everything look slightly less dirty.
I guess there could be worse places to be stuck.
She sneezed suddenly. It had only been a few days since being pronounced well, or ‘well enough,’ by Sister Irena. Sabre hoped she wasn’t already catching another cold. Adjusting to her new environment had been as much of a challenge physically as it had been mentally. She went back to the bedroom and picked up the old flip phone she had once intended to use only as a burner, but now... well, she was stuck with it.
Almost noon. Wow, Sabre couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so late. Could it be that she still hadn't adjusted to the time change?
She listened for signs of life downstairs... Nothing. She crept down the squeaky stairs and peeked from the storage room to into the shop. Doors were locked and windows shuttered. Was he not open today? She looked back to the door that led downstairs. Locked, every one of them... except the one that locked from the outside. Sabre leaned down and gently tapped on the door.
"Um... Excuse me?" she called softly, "Mr. Al?"
Nothing.
She knocked a little harder, "Good morning, uh... Sir?"
She felt awkward speaking so formally to him, still skeptical that he was older than her, but she thought it best to show him as much respect as she could muster. She knocked again, louder this time. This time she was greated with a wet growl and deep yawn, the the squeak of a matteress and some rustling which she mistakenly interpruted as him getting up. So, he was down there. Unfortunately... her patience was rewarded with another few minutes of silence.
Did he seriously just go back to sleep?
"Mr. Al!" she called again.
"WHAT?!" Sabre fell back against the floor, startled by the suddenly loud reply.
"Oh! Um... it..." She was at a loss for what she had originally wanted to say, "Are... you opening your shop today? It's almost lunch ti-"
"No."
"What?"
"I said no. I'm sleeping," he repeated in a raspy voice.
"Um, okay... I was wondering if you knew somewhere I could buy clothes-"
"What am I, your tour guide?? Go away."
As she thought, no manners. Well, she was better than that.
"Fine. I'm going to get something to eat, at uh..." She just remembered the only cafe she knew of was 'The Fairy Wren.'
"Wren's the only place open now," she heard him grumble reluctantly.
"Right! Do you want anything to eat?"
"Gross."
She took a deep breath and decided to make one last attempt at courtesy.
"Some tea then?"
"Coffee with butter," he muttered in a raspy voice, clearly not willing to fully wake up, "Iced."
What? With butter? and... cold? In this weather?
"Did you say...Iced coffee? With...butter?"
"Get it or don't, just go away and let me sleep!"
Sabre stomped back upstairs in frustration. Good God, he was going to be insufferrable! She slammed her door and trudged up the street three blocks to the bustling cafe.
Earnie's dad had still been out collecting roots when the shop opened for the morning. He ended up getting so busy that the morning flew by. Even though it was the off season, the shop was busy for a Teusday, and it was almost lunch time before he'd had a chance to catch his breath. Luckily, Mr. Wren had returned by the time the last order came in. Lamb stick, and... Iced coffee with butter.
Wait, what?? Since when is Al up and about at this hour?
This, he had to see. He peeked out the kitchen window, but didn't see him anywhere. After he thought about it for a moment, he wondered if it was possible that it was for someone else? There was food too... He'd never seen Al eat anything hot... or really much of anything at all.
"Hey Mr. Wren! Is Earnie here?" Wen's voice floated over the counter.
Earnie swivled his head and waved at his best friend.
"I'll send her right out."
"Bah!" Sister Irena exclaimed to nobody, becomming more frustrated.
She brushed snow off a bench to take a seat, craning her neck down back the road.
Maybe she really did go back to the train station.
Irena had already been to the Mullins' boarding house. She'd stopped by the Duffy's and Price's. There were only a few other places to check. While she was lost in thought, a pump feathered hen clucked so loudly from behind her she almost jumped out of her seat.
Well... there's one, She rolled her eyes.
When Sabre arrived at the tea shop there were several people sitting in one window, but nobody at the counter.
Looks like I just missed the crowd.
In the other window was a gigantic wheel of cheese so big it took up nearly the whole display. It had to be at least ten kilos. She wondered how she hadn't toticed it before. There was a tall man at the counter with unusually high cheek bones and arched eyebrows. His hair was neatly groomed and just a tad too shiney.
A wig.
He greeted her with startlingly soothing voice, so melodious that she felt as if she could hear a mezmorizing music behind it. She shook her head breifly in an attempt to snap herself back to reality. He took her order with a calm, enchating smile. He paused while typing it into the terminal and looked back up at her. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he smiled and gave her a receipt with a number.
The same man dropped off her food and told her the coffee would be out in a moment. Less than a minute passed, and two young people came bursting through the kitchen door.
"Al! Your coffee!" called the shorter of the two.
Sabre instantly recognized this person as the one who gave her the boshure from yesterday, but the voice that accompanied was a little higher than she thought it'd be.
Oh, Sabre thought, That's a girl.
"Allllllll!" Earnie called again.
"Al's not here," said the man behind the counter.
"Huh? No way," said Wen.
Earnie's father motioned politely towards Sabre. Both blinked and slowly, walked the drink over and set it on Sabre's table.
"Um..." Earnie hesitated, "Is this... to-go?"
"Oh! Father Allen! I-"
"Seems like you were expecting someone else?"
"Oh, um, well, yes- I-" Sister Tulla sputtered, rushing to brush off her frock, "Sister Irena is out. I was expecting her back any minute now."
"Ah, I see. Terribly sorry for not phoning ahead. I had some time free up, and I thought of you two just the other day. I hope I'm not intruding."
"What nonsense! Who whould be considered to be intruding in their own home," Tulla scurried to the door of the study, "Please, join me won't you?"
"Of course," Father Allen shook of hit hat and coat and left them hanging by the door, "You said Sister Irena is out? Not kicking up a fuss again, I hope?"
"Oh no, not at all sir," Tulla pulled out a seat for him, "Did you recieve my letter?"
"I did. That's quite interesting, a girl showing up out of nowhere. What a startle you two must have had. And she's Ian's daughter you said?"
"Why yes! It was all quite exciting actually. You know the days around here do tend to blur together during these long winters."
"Ah yes," Allen sighed, "Seasonal depression. It trips us all up from time to time."
"It- It's quite lovely, of course, when it snows like this," Tulla fidgeted, wondering if perhaps she had offended, "Ahem! Anyways... that's who Irena went to go see just now actually! We had been trying to help set the young lady up with room and board."
"So then, she'll stay around for a time? That's lovely to hear," he replied, graciously accepting a cup of tea, "Thank you, that's just what I need to warm these bones."
Father Allen was approaching eighty and his once red hair had thinned and bleached to a strawberry blonde. He wore and ever-kind and patient expression, but his eyes were always alert and sparkling. He took a few sips before continuing.
"Actually, I did do some looking into her mother as well."
"Oh?" Tulla sat perched on the edge of her seat. Resisting the urge to gossip was one of her many vices.
"Just to satisfy some of my own personal curiosity, of course," he looked up from his cup to meet her wide eyes and sighed, "Still a lover of a good yarn I see?"
"Oh no, sir, I-"
"There's no need to excuse yourself Sister. Curiosity comes natually, and in many cases, I've found that such a thirst for knowlege is a virtue. But, in this case, it's likely the young lady wouldn't want her personal history to be common knowlegde. Discretion is one of the many requirements for someone in my posistion. I hope you understand."
"I do, father," Tulla hung her head, in equal parts shame and disappointment.
"Besides, there's not much to speak of aside few news articles and banking scandals. It's all rather drull compared to the glory of the simple things, dear. You'll likely become more bored by these things as you grow older. I certainly have."
He wasn't going to share. Tulla resisted the urge to pout.
"I was hoping to stay until this Sunday," he continued, "Perhaps to hold confessional? As long as it's of no imposition to you Sisters."
"Of course not," Tulla jumped out of her chair to recieve his empty cup, "I find the sofa all too comfortable. Irena, in fact, often complains about finding me having fallen asleep in this very study."
"Haha," the father chuckled, "Well, as long as your not indulging too many mid-day naps."
Tulla gasped, "You delight in teasing Father!"
As she made tidy her bed for her guest, he sat and read patiently. The wind howled outside as he flipped the pages. When Tulla returned he had a pensive look on his face. She gave him an inquiring look.
"By the way," he broached, "How is Alistair?"
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