But plugging away at it. I didn’t write the first two days. The first day is understandable; I had to put down our elderly black cat, the last of four I wove into one of my Thunderbirds story arcs. It was sad but, to be truthful, it’s also a relief. We’ll miss him. The second day, not so much. So, day three saw me starting to write.  Today has been far better in terms of getting words down and so, you all get an excerpt!

Silence reigned over the table for a few long, uncomfortable minutes. Liam cleared his throat. “I am gratified, Dr. MacLeod, to know that there is a Roman parish in the area. I was concerned for Siobhan’s continued catechism and eventual confirmation in the Church. Where is his parish and what is its name?”

Dr. MacLeod coughed and took a deep breath prior to speaking but it was Siobhan who spoke first.

“Was it St. Matthew’s?”

MacLeod looked startled, as did Sir Charles, Lady Geneve, and Victor. “Why yes, young lady. It was St. Matthew’s. How did you know?”

Head down, Siobhan spoke in a near whisper. “I saw the church on the way here. Young Duff told me about it.” She glanced up at MacLeod. “I am ever so sorry about your father.”

“Thank you, young lady.” MacLeod’s voice was somber. “He died many years ago.” Turning his attention to Liam, he continued, “I am afraid you’ll have to find someone else to continue your niece’s religious education, Reverend. The nearest Roman parish died with my father. No one in Rome has seen fit to fill the position since then.”

“It’s haunted.” Siobhan’s declaration was flat and unequivocal.

“How do you know?” asked Mahdi. His tone was one of cautious skepticism; his eyes considered her from beneath half-closed lids.

Siobhan paled, opalescent skin a stark contrast to her dark hair. “I see—” She faltered, her gaze downcast. Finally, she took a deep breath and blurted out, “I see them. Ghosts, I mean. I don’t want to but I do.”