Peter dropped the paint scraper into the bucket and wiped his forehead. It was only fifteen degrees outside, but he was sweating profusely. The paint was reluctant to leave the walls, even with the industrial strength paint stripper he'd bought.

Hearing footsteps, he turned to see Jack standing by the door. He smiled.

'Jack! I was beginning to think you weren't coming,' he said, walking over to the boy.

'Of course I was coming,' the boy said, a little indignant. 'I made a promise, didn't I?'

Peter nodded, contrite. 'You did. I shouldn't have doubted.'

Jack looked around the hall. 'What are you doing?'

'Giving her a new coat of paint,' Peter explained. 'Care to help?' Jack's eyes widened, and Peter grinned. 'Kidding, kidding. How's your head?'

'Fine.'

'Good.'

Peter looked up as a young woman walked in behind Jack. Jack turned. 'Father, this is my Mum.' Peter held out a hand only to pull it back quickly.

'Hi. Sorry, you probably don't want to shake,' he explained, holding up his filthy hands. She smiled tentatively at him.

'Father. I wanted to thank you for helping Jack,' she said, still smiling. 'I hate to think what might have happened,' she said, touching her son's shoulder. Peter waved her away.

'It was nothing. Right place, right time,' he said. 'It all worked out in the end.' She shook her head, clearly not quite sure to make of him. Peter sensed an opportunity. 'I'm Peter.'

'Emma,' she replied. 'Jack says you're the new priest in charge of the centre.' Peter nodded.

'That's me. I'm hoping to make a few changes, too.' She nodded.

'Jack mentioned. He doesn't have to go to church if he comes here now, does he?' she asked. Peter shook his head.

'No. He can come here whenever he likes, no obligations.' She nodded, satisfied.

'The last one…'

Peter nodded. Clearly his predecessor had ruled with an iron fist. 'Yes, I heard. Well, I'm in charge now, rules change,' he said brightly. 'Anyone is welcome.' He looked over to the storage room where Jack had wandered. 'In fact, I was hoping to start a futsal team.'

Emma raised her eyebrows, surprised. 'Really?'

'Yeah. I used to play when I was a kid. Kept me out of mischief,' he explained, and she nodded.

'Ever since…well, the boys around here have nothing much to do when school's not on.' Peter nodded, understanding. The Senior Constable had told him that youth crime had gone up in the area; Peter had discovered that first-hand. It had only made him more determined to get at least some of the boys into the centre on a regular basis, rather than out on the streets. Hopefully once he got some of them in, more would follow.

'Tell Jack he's welcome anytime. And to bring his friends.' She smiled.

'Thank you, Father.'

'Peter,' he said, uncomfortably, and she looked surprised. 'It's easier on the lads,' he explained.

He looked over a Jack who was now kicking a ball against one of the un-stripped walls. 'Jack plays, I see?'

'Used to.'

'Ah.' Peter walked over to him and Jack stopped kicking the ball.

'Don't stop, you're good. Your mum says you used to play.' Jack's face fell.

'Yeah. Used to.'

'What made you stop?'

'Got kicked off the team.' Peter raised an eyebrow.

'Let me guess. Fighting?' Jack looked up at him, his eyes narrow.

'How'd you know?'

Peter sighed. 'It seems to be a theme around here.'

Assumpta sighed, bored out of her mind. She had never been one to sit still, even now. Her foot was itchy, which both frustrated her and made her happy. It meant it was almost healed.

Her physio was going well, and her heart was getting stronger. She couldn't wait to get out of the hospital and back to her life as fast as possible.

Life.

She closed her eyes, pushing her thoughts out of the past. She would go back to the bar, and things would be back to normal. Like they were before he arrived. Normal. Before she'd picked up the soaking priest on the side of the road. Before he'd wormed his way into her heart without even trying.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Leo.

Leo.

Ok, so maybe not quite normal.

'Hiya,' he greeted her. 'How are you feeling?' She smiled.

'Good. Bored.'

'Feel up to a walk?' Assumpta looked at him.

'Where to?'

'Well, considering you can walk about as fast as a newborn lamb, I was thinking we'd just head out into the garden. The physio said you need to keep moving,' he almost argued.

'Uh, yeah, sure,' she said, swinging her legs slowly around to the edge of the bed. He was at her side instantly, helping her stand. She stopped, instantly irritated by him.

'I can walk, Leo.'

'Oh, really?'

She struggled to stand, realising quickly that she wasn't going to get far. She gave up.

'Ok, so maybe I need a little help,' she conceded, reaching out to lean on his arm. He put one arm around her waist, and she stiffened.

'I just need your arm.'

He let go of her slowly, putting his arm out for her. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's fine.' Assumpta steadied herself, and started slowly walking towards the door.

It took them a full ten minutes to walk the fifty metres to the garden. By the time they reached a wooden garden seat under a tree, Assumpta was puffing.

'Wow,' she said, sitting down carefully. 'I knew I was unfit, but really…' Leo smiled.

'You'll get it back soon.' They sat in silence for a few minutes. Leo opened his mouth to speak when he stopped and waved across the garden. Assumpta looked over to see Niamh approaching.

'I need to get back to work,' he said, turning to Assumpta.

'But you just got here,' she protested, before realising what she was saying. Leo couldn't help but smile as he stood. 'I didn't mean…' she trailed off, not knowing quite how to say what she wanted to say without hurting Leo.

'I know what you meant, Assumpta. I'll see you tomorrow,' he said, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek. She smiled awkwardly at him as he turned and walked away, waving to Niamh.

Niamh sat down next to her friend on the seat. 'I hope I wasn't interrupting something,' she said, watching Leo walk away.

'Nope.'

Niamh turned to look at her friend who was now fiddling with the cord on her sweater.

'He visits every day,' she started, as Assumpta protested.

'Niamh, don't start.'

'He sends you flowers, he brings you food…'

'Niamh!'

'Why can't you just give him a chance, Assumpta? You loved him once.' Assumpta continued fiddling with the cord, not looking up.

'Niamh, we've been here before. It didn't work. It couldn't work.'

'That's because Pet-' Niamh stopped, catching herself. Assumpta looked up sharply. 'I'm sorry. I know.' Assumpta looked back out over the garden. 'Assumpta, Leo's here now. Maybe this is a second chance,' she offered gingerly, avoiding Peter's name.

Maybe it was a second chance, she thought fleetingly, before banishing the thought. If she loved Leo, she'd push him away. It was her selfishness that had dragged him back into her life when she'd had no right to. She knew she didn't love him; not anymore. She couldn't do it again. Assumpta shook her head.

'I've already hurt him enough, Niamh. I can't do it a second time.'

Peter kicked the ball against the wall of the hall, warming up as much as possible before the boys arrived. He'd invited his four young offenders, Jack, and any of Jack's mates he wanted to bring along. None of them had committed, each of them trying to play it cool. Peter just prayed.

You gave me this idea. You have to help me make it work.

He grabbed the ball and hurled it against the wall with all his might. He had thought that ringing Brendan would help; that knowing she was fine would be enough of a catalyst for him to move on.

He'd been wrong.

He hurled the ball against the wall again and again, catching it each time in his keeper's gloves, feeling the anger rage around inside of him. It was a feeling he was getting used to, and it worried him.

'Ah, you're a keeper,' he heard a young voice call out across the hall. He caught the ball and turned to see the four boys standing in the doorway.

'I am. What positions do you play?'

'I'm usually forward. James and Liam play mid, and Jonno's a back. But that's on a full field,' Michael replied, pointing to each of the boys. Peter nodded, and kicked the ball towards them.

'Show me what you can do,' he said. Michael caught the ball and smirked.

'Sure, thing, Father.'

As Peter took his stance in the goal mouth, he wondered what he'd gotten himself into. Sure, he wasn't old, but he was pushing thirty, and his reflexes weren't quite as quick as they used to be.

Michael put the ball on the ground about a quarter of the way down the court. He studied Peter for a few seconds, took a few steps back, ran in and kicked the ball. Peter reacted instantly, deflecting it with his right foot. Peter smiled to himself as he grabbed the ball from the corner of the room. Maybe he wasn't so bad. He threw it back at Michael, who repositioned himself and kicked again. This one was to the left this time, just a little higher, but Peter managed to get his knee to it and deflect it. Michael lined up again, and this time the ball found the top left-hand corner of the net. Peter applauded as he pulled himself up off the floor. Michael smiled smugly as he lined up the ball once more. Michael kicked another few times, getting past Peter twice more. By the time they stopped, Peter was sweating again.

'You're not bad, Father.'

'Thanks,' Peter replied, trying to hide his sore muscles. He was going to have some serious bruises tomorrow.

'Now, let's see what you three can do.' Peter had just thrown the ball to Jonno when he noticed Jack standing at the door, a group of boys standing behind him. 'Jack! Good of you to come,' he said, but Jack didn't reply. He was looking at Michael, his face hard. Peter looked at Michael, noticing that the three boys had moved to stand around him. Michael's expression matched Jack's; the look of contempt and hostility clear. Peter stepped in the two boys' line of sight. 'Lads. What's the problem?'

Jack looked at Peter. 'Remember that day you saved my life?' Jack asked.

'Yeah.'

Jack said nothing, but looked back over at Michael. Peter followed his gaze to Michael, who raised his chin slightly in defiance.

'No,' Peter said before he could stop himself. He sighed. Wonderful.

'I'm not playing with him,' Jack spat.

'We don't want you,' Michael replied.

'Boys!' Peter said loudly. 'Stop. Jack, Michael, come here. We're going to sort this out.' Peter looked between the two boys, who didn't move.

'NOW!' Peter yelled. Jack made the first move, his face still defiant. Michael mirrored his actions until the two boys were an arms' length from Peter. Peter took a step back so he wasn't directly between the boys, but close enough that he could get in the way fast. 'Right. What happened, Michael?'

Michael still looked defiant. Peter's temper flared. 'If you don't sort this out now, there'll be consequences,' he warned. He had no real idea what he'd do; he certainly wasn't going to hand the boys over to the police, and he didn't want to have to cancel the arrangement they'd made, but he couldn't let Michael and the boys off scot-free. They'd done the wrong thing, and they needed to know that. He prayed they wouldn't call his bluff.

Michael looked at Peter and back at Jack. 'He tried to steal my girl,' he declared.

'She's not your girl,' Jack shouted back.

'Enough!' Peter yelled, louder than both of them. 'You wait your turn,' he said, pointing at Jack, who crossed his arms. He turned to Michael. 'Is that what you were arguing about?'

'Yeah.'

'Right.' He turned to Jack. 'Is that true?'

'I didn't steal his girl!'

'Not that – that you were arguing about a girl?' Jack nodded. 'Ok.' He turned back to Michael.

'It was an accident, yes?' Michael nodded, and Peter turned to Jack. 'Yes?' Jack eyed him for a few moments, and then reluctantly nodded. Peter turned back to Michael.

'You shouldn't have run.' Michael started to protest, but Peter just spoke over him. 'I know it was an accident, and I know I was there, but you should have stayed.'

'I didn't want to get into trouble,' he admitted.

'It was an accident. You wouldn't have been in trouble.' Michael's eyes were hard.

'That's not how the cops around here would've seen it.'

'And I would have set them straight.' Michael looked at the ground. 'Now. Michael, you're going to apologise to Jack.' Michael started protesting again, until he saw the look on Peter's face.

'Whatever.'

'Michael,' Peter warned. Michael looked over at Jack.

'I'm sorry I left you there,' he said quietly.

'You should be,' Jack said acidly.

'Jack!' Peter glared at the boy, who had the decency to look vaguely ashamed. He kicked something on the ground before looking back up at Peter and Michael.

'It's ok.'

Peter exhaled a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. 'Good. Now, this girl,' he started, looking at the two boys, and raising his eyebrows. 'Who did she choose?'

The boys looked up, startled. The thought that she might have a say in her boyfriend clearly hadn't cross their minds. Peter stifled a smile.

'I suggest you find out, but like real men.' The boys stared at him. 'Ask her!' he said, as if it were obvious. 'And no more fighting, is that clear?' Both boys looked at each other and reluctantly nodded. Peter stifled another smile as he added a final command. 'Shake hands.'

The boys looked up at him sharply, before looking at each other. Peter looked straight back, his face calm.

'Go on, then.' The boys looked at each other, each reluctantly taking a step forward before reluctantly shaking hands. Peter rubbed his hands together.

'Right. Now, let's play, shall we?'

Another slightly longer chapter. Holidays mean editing time!

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