Clinton Priest

Chapter Eight

I make it downstairs in time to see the bishop walk in. He is an old short man with laughing green eyes and a pot belly. He's dressed in the traditional white priestly cassock and a gold cross around his neck My parents greet him first before Lizzy and I.

Ah," the bishop laughs. "Scarlett Evangeline, look at how you've grown! The last time I saw you, you were... well technically the last time I saw you, you didn't exist."

"Good evening father," I say, taking his hand in mine and kissing the ring on his finger.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, my dear," he says.

We make our way to the dinning room.

"Where is Adrian?" The bishop asks, his bright green eyes twinkling with mischief.

I eye mother discretely as we sit at the dinning table. Grand papa's seat at the head is empty. He will be having lunch at the home of Montserrat, the self proclaimed seer of Haven. I like to think he finds peace with her even though mother says he's one step away from the asylum.

"He's gone to France," mother repeats what she told us to him. Lizzy purses her lips as she stares straight at me. "This place reminds him too much of Isabelle."

"What a world we live in," the bishop says as he sips from his glass of water. "Tragic indeed."

"We all have our fair share of tragedy," mother says, her lips slightly pursed.

"Clinton Priest has decided to stay back in Haven," He pauses, his green eyes staring straight at me, "perhaps permanently. He's looking to settle down and start a family."

"When did he tell you this?" I ask curiously.

"Last night," the bishop says. "He visited me at the parish house for a cup of tea."

"I didn't think he drank tea," I muse loudly. "He seems to be the kind of man to enjoy a glass of scotch or Irish whiskey." From the corner of my eye, I see Diana shake her head subtly. I have no filter today it seems.

"You've given him a lot of thought," the bishop says bemusedly.

"Not really," I answer, my attention on the gold cross around his neck. "I'm just curious."

"Forgive her, father," mother says. "She's just a little bit strange."

The bishop laughs softly. His laughter is contagious and I find myself smiling at the way his eyes crinkle and the double chin jiggles.

"Aren't we all a little strange," he says to her. "My dear Scarlett," he says to me, "a little eccentricity never hurts."

"Eccentricity has no place in Haven," father says as he chews his meat.

"True. You should know," the bishop concedes. "I have a message for you, Roman Sinclair. There are two birds. One was a gift and it's been taken, the other is a sacrifice that must be made. You know who I speak off." He stands, his green eyes fixed on father. "Patience is a virtue not all beings have."

The scraping of silver cutlery against glass plates slows to a stop.

My father clears his throat nervously. "Bishop, what can we do?" He glances at mother before continuing. "It's not time yet, is it? He hasn't even shown up yet."

"Oh but he has," the bishop says. "You will do well to remember your promise."

"I never forgot," father says bitterly.

Lizzy and I exchange looks. I have no idea what they are speaking off and from the looks I share with Lizzy, neither does she.

"I warned you," the bishop says, his eyes are suddenly cold and hard, "but you didn't listen."

He leaves before lunch is over and the rest of the day goes by despite the sudden gloom in the air.