[ CHAPTER. TWENTY EIGHT ] - THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA - { PT. 5 }

[ CHAPTER  TWENTY ]  -  THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA

{ PT.  1 } - Marcello's car bumped against every rock and lump of protruding mud on the dirt track leading to the cabin. The towering trees trapped the darkness around them. It was like being inside a sarcophagus. Christiano reached a row of poplar trees which offered the perfect seclusion and parked. Well this is it! he said, switching the engine off. The eerie sounds of the indigenous night creatures screeched through the silence. the car's headlights illuminated a small cabin in the distance. He cut the light, enveloping them in blackness. Angelica's haunted eyes stared into the shadows. What is this place? It's not as scary as it looks. He reached his hand to the back seat and retrieved a large torch. I spent many a night here with my grandfather. This is where he gave me the knife I carry. Some of my fondest memories are here. How long ago did he die? Many years ago. I was just fifteen. We kept the cabin as a family getaway. He switched on the torch and handed it to Angelica. I'll get the luggage. Just make your way to the door. She shook her head with a look of dread. Okay, just stay by my side. He looked amused. They stepped out of the car and Christiano walked round to the boot where he collected as many shopping bags and luggage as he could carry. Angelica noticed a couple of bags left behind and picked them up. She shone the torch on the cabin, illuminating the path as they walked. There's no internet access here and no electricity, said Christiano. You live the old-fashioned way. It's just as well it is summer, she replied. Yes, it can get pretty cold up here in the winter. As you'll discover in a few months. They climbed a set of stone steps, and Christiano unlocked the front door, pushing it open for Angelica to enter.                                                                                   _______________________________________________________

{ PT.  2 } - A stale odour drifted to their nostrils as they entered the cabin. They set the bags down on the limestone floor, and Christiano immediately set about lighting his newly purchased camp lanterns, putting them on their highest setting. The lamps revealed an open-plan room with a large stone fireplace, a wooden dining table, a three-seater sofa and a small kitchen. There was a closed door to the right. this is beautiful, said Angelica, looking up at a ceiling of wooden beams with a myriad of intricate cobwebs joining one to the other. Yes, it was my grandfather's pride and joy. He built it himself with his father. He looked up at the ceiling. It seems we have some uninvited guests. Or, perhaps we're the uninvited guests. She simled. Indeed. What was his name? My grandfather? Christiano Abdabelli. I was named after him. Angelica noticed a range of rifles hanging on the wall. Are you a hunter? He looked at the guns with an expression that showed he had forgotten they were there. Goodness no. They were my grandfather's. He was a collector. She clutched at her stomach. Are you in pain? No, it's been a while since I last ate. Of course. I knew we would arrive late. He pulled some food items out of the shopping bags and laid them out on the table for her.. Please, sit down and eat.                                                                                    _______________________________________________________ { PT.  3 } - She took her seat and spread apricot preserve on a biscottate. As she crunched on the toast, she watched him remove supplies from the bags and place them on the table. We'll put them in their rightful place in the morning, he said. Her steady gaze was making him feel a little self-conscious. Where will I sleep? she asked. You'll take the bedroom through the closed door. I'll take the sofa. She frowned. It's shorter than you are. Your legs will be dangling off the end. Let me have the sofa. No, that's out of the question. I'll be fine. I have an inflatable mattress which I will set up tomorrow. My discomfort will only be for tonight, and there's not much of that left. Thank you... I mean for everything you've done. He made a modest nod. How does it feel to be speaking after so long? It's strange. My throat's a bit sore. I suppose I need to exercise my vocal cords it feels more natural. Does my voice sound normal? It's a little hoarse and there's a slight drawl, but as I said, beneath is a harmonic chord. It'll take time... Actually, I've been meaning to ask. Why the board? Didn't you learn sign language? I did. The board was for those who couldn't sign. I used to sign with the Abbess... Her voice trailed off as the grief rose to her throat. Her eyes moistened.   ________________________________________________________ { PT.  4 } - Come, I'll show you to your room. She followed him into a bedroom made entirely of wood-log walls. A simple bed was tucked to one side of the room with a small wardrobe at its side. A black cast-iron stove stood opposite, and towards the corner of the room was an en-suite bathroom, its entire bathroom, its entire space devoured by a cramped shower cubicle, toilet and sink. He pulled some blankets from a large bag and placed them on the mattress. We'll make the bed properly tomorrow. I'll make this place a home for you...until the baby is born. She nodded with a slight smile. I'll be right outside if you need anything. He reached the door. Christiano! He turned to her. Can I call you Christiano? Of course. Do you think you'll ever go back to the Church? Even if I wanted to, I don't think they'd have me. I'm sorry. Her face was riddled with guilt. It's all my fault... You know, she said, thoughtfully, he may be just one crooked Cardinal. Take the Abbess and Father Cavallo, both good people of the Church. And you, of course. I'm beginning to think they're the exception. Perhaps, if we find a way to expose him... If we did that we would just be alerting him to your whereabouts. Besides, the Vatican protects its own. How could we prove anything? He has far too much power and influence.                                                            _______________________________________________________  { PT.  5 } - He even got to Don Primo. Angelica's eyes sank to the ground. Don Primo care only for money. That's his sole motivation. Don't let this worry you anymore. You're safe now. Get some sleep. Okay? She nodded as he left the room and watched him with a sorrowful look as he shut the door behind him.                                    _______________________________________________________