Over three weeks had passed since Phoebe and her friends had last spoken with Cosain and Ernan and learned from them more of their assignment. In the interim, a lot had happened, and Phoebe had been amazed at the way in which many things had started to fall into place. She had worked very hard to act surprised when her parents shared with her their vision for establishing a mission, an idea that, they said, they had been mulling over for many months. Jack and Eva had talked excitedly about their embryonic plans, and how they longed to be able to be a voice for those who were oppressed and victimised, and were obviously thrilled that these plans may actually become reality now that they were home on Ireland’s green shores. When the discussion turned to potential names for this new organisation, Phoebe had not been able to resist and had offered up ‘Celtic Justice Mission’, which her parents had taken to immediately, and eventually decided to stick with the name.
“What a great name for this organisation, Phoebe,” Eva smiled. “It embodies where we come from and what we would seek to do. What a clever young lady you are!”
“Just a little inspired thought, Mum,” Phoebe smiled back at her mother, and had to suppress the grin that was working its way across her face.
“We have spoken at length with members of the local authorities and council, and – this is the most exciting part! – well, there’s a chance, a possibility that we might be able to set up our premises in the old abandoned abbey on Quagmire Hill! It’s like it was all meant to be, Phoebe, almost as if Darken Abbey has lain dormant all these years just waiting for CJM.”
Cosain’s words rang in Phoebe’s ears: “Darken Abbey was – is – a thin place…” and although the Captain of the Host had already told her that her parents’ organisation would be based in Darken Abbey, the magnitude of the news still took her breath away and she found herself genuinely overwhelmed at the possibility of Celtic Justice Mission moving into Darken Abbey and usurping the forces of evil which had claimed jurisdiction unchallenged for so many years. Phoebe remembered too Cosain’s stern warning: “…this will not exactly be music to Abaddon’s ears, he will not relinquish Darken Abbey without a fight…” and for a brief moment the blood in her young veins ran cold at the thought of the supernatural battle that inevitably lay ahead.
Phoebe regained her composure and with a hundred thoughts swirling around in her head she replied, “That’s incredible news, I’m so pleased for you both. When do you think you’ll be able to set up and move into the abbey?”
“Well,” Jack paused. “There’s a lot still to be done, a lot of formalities and paperwork – and of course that old place is going to need a lot of work!”
“You’re not kidding!” Phoebe thought, and it occurred to her to wonder just what exactly would need to take place before any mortal could utilise the abbey without being obliterated by the Enemy.
“In fact,” Jack continued, oblivious to Phoebe’s train of thought. “We have another meeting with the council on Monday afternoon.”
“I hope that d’Olcas man isn’t there!” exclaimed Eva with acrimony, causing both Jack and Phoebe to jerk their heads round in her direction. Eva didn’t have a hostile bone in her body, but something about this d’Olcas character, whoever he was, had obviously rattled her cage and it was safe to say that he definitely was not one of her favourite people.
“Vincent d’Olcas?” Jack asked, still surprised by his wife’s ardent outburst. “Why Honey? I know he was a bit… well, unhelpful, but he wasn’t that bad surely?”
“Who is Vincent d’Olcas? What has he done, Mum?” interjected Phoebe, wondering instinctively if he could be another of Abaddon’s puppets, strategically placed to make things extremely difficult for the Wrens. Foremost in her mind was Cosain’s recounting of events when Craven had assumed human form in the guise of Brother Clarence, and intuitively she wondered whether the Enemy could be up to his old tricks.
“d’Olcas…” Even the mere mention of the man’s name seemed to grate on Eva. “Vincent d’Olcas. He’s a member of Arles Borough Council. But you definitely wouldn’t say he has his constituents’ best interests at heart! He certainly seems bent on standing in our way at every turn where CJM is concerned.”
“Really?” Phoebe was intrigued now, and the more she heard about this d’Olcas person, the more convinced she became that her theory about the Enemy’s interference might not be as farfetched as it seemed.
“Yeah. Oh I don’t know Honey,” Eva conceded with a sigh. “Maybe I’m being unfair or harsh. Maybe he just has his own peculiar ways of doing things. It’s just…” Eva hesitated. “Well, there’s something a bit, dark about him… I can’t quite put my finger on it, but his presence unsettles me – he makes my skin crawl!”
Jack chuckled. “I know he’s not making things easy for us with our proposals, Eva, but seriously? He makes your skin crawl?”
“Jack!” Eva chided. “Don’t mock! I’m serious; he’s a strange being if ever I met one.”
“Well, since you feel that strongly, let’s hope it’ll be just the other two then, shall we? What were their names again?”
“Brent Atwood and Celeste… uh, Celeste McGill, wasn’t it?” replied Eva, tilting her head to one side and closing one eye as if so doing helped her to remember the names.
“Yes, that’s right, Brent and Celeste. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll be just the good guys at the meeting on Monday, eh?”
Jack had a mischievous glint in his eye, and Eva realised that her husband was poking fun at her. She considered retaliation, but thought better of it and raised an eyebrow at her husband before allowing herself to relax as a familiar smile spread across her face.
“Oh okay cheeky,” she chuckled at her husband, then decided that she really couldn’t allow him to have the last word on the matter. “But you wait and see if I’m not right about this one! There is something deeply weird about Vincent d’Olcas, mark my words!”
Phoebe was happy to listen in for a while as Jack and Eva discussed potential plans for the Celtic Justice Mission. As far as they were concerned, their proposals were still at the earliest stage – little did the Wrens know that their apparently insignificant efforts would have eternal ramifications, and there was a deadly Enemy scheming to thwart their propositions before they could ever be realised.
Jack had recently returned to his post in nearby Castletown Hospital, and was thoroughly enjoying being back at work in Ireland. He had left the hospital in 2000 when the family had moved to Africa, but had been so highly thought of that the hospital administrator had promised to endeavour to keep his post open until such times as Jack was ready to return. To this end, the position of Chief of General Surgery had only ever been filled on a temporary basis during the last ten years, and Jack had been supremely thankful to be able to take back the reins. He thrived on the hectic busyness of hospital life and was entirely focused on his role as Chief, but he possessed too an incredible bedside manner and much interest in his patients as individuals, and to this end Dr. Wren was well like and highly respected by his colleagues and patients alike.
With the sudden and relatively rapid progression of plans for the Celtic Justice Mission, Eva had taken the decision not to return to full time work in Castletown Hospital. Phoebe knew that her mother had always loved her job, and her distinguished career was something she had been very proud of, so it was testament to her commitment to making CJM a reality that she would choose to pursue it in favour of life as a surgeon. Eva had agreed to make herself available should the need for her services arise at the hospital, but for now at least, CJM was her priority. Phoebe knew too that this would not have been an easy decision for Eva to make, and she had resolved to be as supportive as she could possibly be to her mother at this time of transition.
Phoebe stayed happily in her parents’ company for some time. Demetrius joined them in the family room, and they ordered in Chinese food for supper, and chatted well into the evening about the Celtic Justice Mission, who might benefit from its establishment, and the amount of sheer hard graft that would be necessary if they got the go ahead to use Darken Abbey as the organisation’s headquarters. The enormity of the project was not lost on any of them, and Phoebe was impressed by her parents’ bravery and determination, especially since they had no way of knowing that they would be aided by the finest of Heaven’s angelic warriors.
“I’ve really loved listening to your plans,” yawned Phoebe, as she sat cross-legged on the family’s comfortable brown leather sofa in their cosy family room. “There’s so much to look forward to, eh? Very exciting!” She smiled at her parents and Demetrius, then stifled another yawn and stretched both arms high above her head and slowly stood up from the sofa. “Actually, I could probably listen all night, but I’m dead beat, so I’m gonna call it a day.”
“Yep, lots to look forward to Sweetheart,” agreed Eva, smiling at her daughter. “Lots to do though, eh? Goodnight Phoebs.”
“Night night Honey,” Jack chipped in, and blew his daughter a kiss as she made her way out of the den.
“Goodnight Dad, Mum, night Dem,” Phoebe yawned back as she ascended the stairs to her bedroom, her head crammed full of thoughts and ideas and ‘what ifs’ about Darken Abbey, the Celtic Justice Mission, angelic warriors and hellish foe.
“So,” mused Craven as he hovered between the ground floor and the first floor of the Wrens’ home. “They are serious about these plans. I had hoped that we had done enough to scare those meddling kids away for good. Apparently not. It seems that Vincent d’Olcas will have to step up his game if we are to keep the do-gooders out of Darken Abbey.”
“Yes,” snarled Schnither, who had also been listening with intent. “Darken Abbey is ours. And if they refuse to heed d’Olcas, then they will listen to me…”