I have recently been re-watching series 1-3 of Ballykissangel. I loved it back in the day, and yes, I was rather fond of Father Peter Clifford. I hated the way the series ended Assumpta and Peter's love story, as I suspect did many people. I got the inspiration to write this fanfic, and it's only taken me 16 years after The Reckoning! This story is a mash-up of the Warren Beatty movie, Heaven Can Wait, with a pinch of the BBC sitcom, Goodnight Sweetheart, and, of course, Ballykissangel. All you need to be aware of, is that Dervla Kirwan (Assumpta Fitzgerald) played the character of Phoebe Bamford (later, Phoebe Sparrow) in the BBC sitcom Goodnight Sweetheart. She left after three series, as she did with Ballykissangel. The character was played by a different actress from the fourth series onwards, but Dervla was the original Phoebe. The character married Gary Sparrow, and they had a son called Michael, who in turn had a daughter he named Phoebe, after her grandmother. That's really all you have to know for this fanfic, and I hope I've explained it clearly enough. Here's my attempt at a happy ending for Peter and Assumpta, with a little help from the supernatural, as it's my particular penchant. I like to think I'm a bitter and twisted old cynic, but the truth is I'm still a sucker for happily ever after. I hope you all enjoy reading this fic, and please leave a review. Thank you - Mrs P.
God Moves In a Mysterious Way
Chapter 1
Heaven Can Wait
Assumpta, don't leave me…
A tunnel of bright white light swallowed her whole, and she was surrounded by every memory from her life all at once. Voices and images of loved ones from the past and present swirled around her.
Then silence fell, and she found herself emerging from a thick white mist into a throng of lost souls. They were waiting for something or someone, and she joined them.
Where am I? She questioned. No one replied.
An officious looking man, dressed in a white suit and holding a clipboard, was rummaging through the papers which were attached to it. He glanced in her direction, and then continued searching through his pages.
Oi, you, what's going on? She yelled over at the man.
He eyed her with suspicion and beckoned her towards him.
Name? He demanded.
Assumpta Fitzgerald.
Where am I? Where's Peter? She asked
Saint Peter? The man queried. He's outsourced, he said.
She looked incredulous, and then the truth finally dawned on her.
Oh, no, no, NO! This isn't happening, it can't be. I can't leave him, it will break his heart, and I'll never get to Heaven then, will I?
The man looked down at his clipboard, his face had been a mask of officialdom, but now he appeared increasingly alarmed.
Oh, this can't be right, he said.
Assumpta barely noticed his distress, as she was too consumed by her own. His constant muttering eventually drew her attention, and she fixed him in her steely glare.
I don't care what you have to do, just get me back, she demanded.
The man stopped his fussing and sheepishly met her eye.
The thing is, and I don't know how this could have happened, but you aren't supposed to be here anyway, he said.
If looks could kill, the man would have dropped down dead, if he wasn't already.
WHAT?
We were expecting Sister Assumpta Fitzgerald, a seventy-two year old nun. You were not expected for, well, for quite some time, the man explained.
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She only wanted to be back with Peter. He loved her, and she loved him.
Oh God, I never even got to say those words to him, she gasped.
Assumpta was sure he knew. Did he know? She had to tell him.
Well then, just put me back where I belong, and we'll say no more about it.
The man started fidgeting again.
Well?
She waited for him to comply, and the longer he kept her waiting, the angrier she became.
It's not that simple, I wish it was, but it's not. You are dead, and it shouldn't have happened, but it has. I'm afraid things have moved on down there, and your body is no longer - inhabitable, the man explained.
NO, this is just a bad dream, or I ate some dodgy Chinese food or something. You fix this, NOW; she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.
Your husband had your remains cremated, so there's nothing left to send you back to, he squeaked.
Assumpta released the man from her grip and slumped to the ground. All she could think about was Peter, and how he had begged her not to leave him. He was giving the priesthood up so they could be together, and now he'd been left with nothing.
This isn't fair. It isn't right. He doesn't deserve this. I just want to go home, she sobbed.
Who are you anyway? I demand to speak to whoever's in charge, Assumpta raged.
The man disappeared to seek advice from a higher authority.
She decided she wouldn't take this lying down. If God could do all the things he was supposed to be able to do, he could fix this.
The man reappeared with an efficient looking woman, who was also wearing a white suit. She seemed to be in charge, and she stepped forward to speak.
Mr Kite has explained the nature of the administrative blunder which brought you here. I am Mrs Bloxham, and I intend to, shall we say, balance the books. I could offer a thousand apologies for your present predicament, and it wouldn't change things one whit. We could keep you here; after all, what's done is done. Once you stepped through those pearly gates, you'd forget your mortal troubles. However, I have a proposition for you, and it's a solution of sorts. We have a vacancy due to come available, and I must say that although we don't usually do things this way, you are a special case, the woman explained.
A vacancy? Assumpta questioned.
A unique opportunity, I should say, for your soul to return to Earth in the body of a young woman, who will soon be meeting with an unfortunate accident.
It didn't sound like much of an opportunity, and it wouldn't help her get back to Peter.
No, I want to be me, I want to be who I am, not some random woman, she argued.
Mrs Bloxham pursed her lips and then gestured to Mr Kite to hand her something. It looked like a small television screen, only it was almost flat, like a window.
Here, take a look, this is who you could be, she said holding up the screen.
Assumpta stared hard at it as a picture began to appear, and then she gasped.
But… she's…I don't believe it, how could this be?
Ah, Ms Fitzgerald, there are more things in Heaven and on Earth, than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Mrs Bloxham grinned.
You will be her, and she will be you. You won't have any conscious memory of this, or of your former life, and to everyone else things will carry on as before. There's always the unconscious though, and déjà vu.
But what about the life I had? What about Peter?
Assumpta closed her eyes and she could hear his anguished sobs, begging her not to leave him.
I don't want a life without him, she wept.
You need to have faith that all with be well. Things have a way of working out as they should, in the end, Mrs Bloxham smiled.
I'll see Peter again? Assumpta wanted to believe.
If two people are meant to be together, there isn't a force on Earth, or in Heaven, that can keep them apart, the woman said with a wink.
Then what are you waiting for? Send me back to him.
Mr Kite held up a document for her to sign, and lamented that no one bothered to read the small print anymore.
It's a mere formality, for such an unusual case as this. If you choose to sign on the dotted line, then you will be consenting to live the remainder of your life in someone else's body. You will be her, in that you'll have her memories and everything else which makes a person who they are. But inside her will beat your heart and soul, Mrs Bloxham explained.
Assumpta decided she could live with it, she'd have to, and so she signed.
Now, all you have to do is close your eyes, and we'll take care of the rest, they assured her.
Hold on, Peter, I'm coming, and in the words of Meatloaf, Heaven Can Wait…