Julia woke me up this morning, early, and told me that I'd better hurry up if I wanted to run before breakfast. It took me a few minutes to figure out what she was talking about. I never run before breakfast, I never do anything before breakfast. I'm not particularly a morning person, 6am mass was always a struggle to be ready for. And Julia definitely knows this. She's been on the receiving end of my early morning social skills quite a lot lately. She's way too cheerful in the morning for my liking. I think I must have muttered something like, 'huh?' because she replied, with a smile, that if I hurried, I could catch up with Nicholas. It's almost comical in a way. Julia is plotting something. She must have learned from the master, for, like Derek, she gave nothing away as to what her motive might be. I wonder if they teach that anywhere, maybe there's a Legacy correspondence course or something an hour a day to better manipulation.
So, clearly, I crawled out of bed and staggered after Nick. There were two options, really. One, Nick wanted to talk to me about something, and two, Julia expected me to find something out about Nick. When I finally caught up with him, he looked so surprised to see me that it was clearly the latter. But whatever I was supposed to find out, I don't think I did. Nick didn't talk much, just ran slow enough to allow me to keep up.
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And Julia's not the only one who's acting strange today. I got a phone call from Father O'Reilly, warning me that he was about to send a fax that I might like. Notes for a sermon, so he said, but one can never be too sure where Mick O'Reilly is concerned. His parish is in one of the bad areas of Dublin. The people there have little to be thankful for, yet he always gets a full house on a Sunday morning. Perhaps not as orthodox as some of the others may like, but he inspires his parish all the same. I must admit though, any sermon he might send me is something I definately don't want the others to read. Alex in particular, would never let me hear the end of it. But unfortunately the only fax machine is in the control room. I gave him the number and hurried down to rescue the sermon. Not in time, unfortunately.
Our precept beat me to it. Apparently Alex said he almost leaped a desk to get to the machine when it started beeping. Derek has this way of looking at you that says more than an hour lecture ever could. But sometimes he feels the urge to add in a few phrases also. He finally let me have the fax, after commenting that the fax may not be available for a while as he was going to have Dominick take a look at it, wash it's mouth out with soap.
So that's two of our house members in a weird mood tonight. Maybe there's something in the water.
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CONTENTS PTL FANFIC
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