Their Heads moved close, their lips almost touching.
"Assumpta." Peter whispered, drawing away.
"Don't," She said. "We have to finish it."
"I don't think so."
"Why not?" Her voice was part exasperation part coaxing.
He drew back sitting up straight, his eyes hardened.
"I'm a priest." He couldn't look at her, he was disgusted with himself.
"That's fine," Assumpta was quickly rebuilding her barriers. "Be a priest." The hurt was visible in her eyes.
Peter turned, "Assumpta..." he started.
"I have to go." She ran into the wings.
Peter slumped, hating himself. A moment later the doors opened and in walked Bishop Costello, Father Clohessy, Father Brady and Father Mac. They were closely followed by Brendan and Padraig.
"Ah, Father Clifford!" Father Mac smiled, "And where is Miss Fitzgerald?" he continued a cold glint in his eye.
"Father Mac," Peter stood looking awkward. "A word?"
His superior stopped smiling.