BALLYKISSANGEL

Liam moved toward the passenger side of what had once been his own truck, but Donal was already out of the driver's seat, gesturing over his shoulder with a trembling thumb.

"Are you asking me to drive, are you?"

Donal's buck teeth were chattering; his lips tried to cover them, succeeding only in looking like a pair of wrestling earthworms. He nodded without meeting Liam's eyes.

Liam took the wheel. "What's the matter with you?"

Donal shook his head. A few minutes' Kenny Rogers music followed, not quite in time with the windscreen wipers.

Finally the smaller man spoke:

"Liam?"

"Ah?"

"D'you believe in ghosts?"

The rain pummeled the stables with little mercy. Avril bit her lips into a white line as Siobhan checked over The Cat. She'd been hesitant to have anyone over since taking on her new ... tenant. Vincent - Father Sheahan - would soon be back from St. Joseph's, and there'd be no warning him about the company that didn't yet know he lived here.

We have nothing to hide, she reminded herself. Nothing.

"Thanks for coming up on a Sunday," she said, thinking The Cat's lameness was nothing to her own.

"Believe me, I was glad for an excuse to get out," Siobhan said. "Man lurking about the house, and all."

Avril's heart thumped. "Um?"

"Brendan. One of his sulky moods."

"Ah." Nothing to hide!

Her mind wandered back to the previous evening, when she had walked in on his shower. He'd been too gracious about it. Also too naked.

"When did you first feel it?"

Avril's pulse shot up again. "Pardon?"

Only now did she notice Siobhan was gently palpating the horse's leg. "The swelling. When did you first notice?"

Avril swallowed. The horse. She's on about the horse. "Um. Yesterday evening. Cleaning her hooves."

Cleaning. Washing. Lathering...

"Was it hot last night?"

"Sorry?"

Siobhan gave a look of waning patience. "The skin. Was it warm to the touch like this?"

"Ah. It might've been; I can't recall."

"Well, I'll monitor for a few days, but my hunch is a bit of tendonitis. Superficial or deep digital flexor, if I had to make a wager. I can arrange to get an ultrasound up here, but it'll take some doing. Most likely it's minor, and treatment won't be too complicated... Is she due to race again soon?"

Avril couldn't remember. She shook her head.

She realised Siobhan was waiting for her to say something. Come in for a cuppa, and see Vincent's things everywhere! No, that wouldn't do. "Dr. Mehigan, are you well?"

The bemusement in the older woman's eyes grew stronger. "Well enough."

Avril checked her watch. Mass wasn't almost over. Mass was long finished.

And she now heard an Australian-tinged baritone from within the house, calling out, "Hello? I'm home!"

Stepping out the back door, Vincent appeared to realise why he'd seen the Range Rover parked in front. He gave the sort of smile that stops midway up the face, like a child caught pilfering a sweet.

Avril cleared her throat and looked at her boots.

Siobhan chuckled. "Might've known it."

"Siobhan, I..." Avril looked up. No point hiding now. "Come in for a cuppa?"

The vet gave a smirk. "Ah, well. May it be any comfort to know: I've already heard the news of the day. You two roommates aren't it. Sure you're behaving yourselves."

Both of them blushed now.

Oonagh folded her arms on the breakfast table and stared. Her husband, nose-deep in his morning paper, gave a twitch of recognition.

"You're keeping something from me."

The balding head twitched side to side, a wavering sun on a newsprint horizon.

"It's this Mellon woman."

He didn't look up. "I don't know what you're on about."

"You've been cowering in corners since she arrived. She wouldn't even answer her door for me."

He peered around the edge of the broadsheet. "Why were you knocking at all?"

"Se-" she cleared her throat, "Paul."

"Do we offer room service now?"

"I'd have come up with something."

Finally he folded the headlines in on themselves. He said nothing, only met her eyes and then unmet them.

"You know something I don't know, love. Out with it."

He shook his head and took a bite of cereal, casting his gaze at the weather forecast.

JUST OUTSIDE OF BRAY

The upholstery in the cargo bed of the estate car would smell of wet dog for weeks, but at least the two dogs had developed a simpatico. The rain had slowed to a sporadic, large confetti: seconds passed between one drop and another, but the drops themselves were teaspoonfuls at least. The windscreen was getting wet at a pace too slow for the slowest wiper speed, forcing Niamh to trigger a spurt of washer fluid every few minutes, or else endure an intermittent rubbery squeak.

A slurping noise from the backseat added further percussion.

"Kieran, have you finished that entire water bottle already?"

"I kind of finished it at the park. When I was waiting for you."

Her eyes went wide.

"Mum?"

"What did I say earlier, Kieran?"

"I know, but I really need to wee."

My kingdom for a jar, she thought, scanning the highway for their next opportunity.

Slowing down now, admittedly; school and work and church and improv and family all want a piece of me, and then FF.N was down... I'm also trying to get all these late-to-the-party characters right, and the last season gave us so many mixed signals. Lots of ideas though, I swear. Please chime in, let me know how I'm doing.

I know I'm dragging out the prelude to the reunions, but they start in the next chapter, my hand to God!