Peter opened, as per usual, to no customers. But he gave the place a good polish and then sat at the bar with the newspaper and a fresh cup of coffee.
Which is where Assumpta found him. "Quiet morning."
"No kidding."
She sighed and started to grind some beans.
"Is it serious?"
"It?"
"It's been quiet a lot lately."
She nodded but kept on making her coffee. Only when it was finished, down to a little frothy spiral in the steamed milk, did she turn to him. "It's not not serious."
"Right."
She shrugged. "What do you suggest?"
"Festivals are the trick, aren't they?"
"This time of year?"
He folded the paper and put it aside. "How about a tournament? I'm up to date on current events, if nothing else. We'll challenge some Cilldargen pub to a battle of the bars."
She laughed, "We did do well that night."
He shook his head, though the memory had lost some of its sting.
"Well, Fitzgerald's did well that night. You and I can make up for last time in the upcoming details-yet-to-be-announced, opponent yet to be found, extravaganza!" She pumped a fist weakly. "Did you get the mail?"
"On the kitchen table."
She went through to get it, talking as she went, "It's the race today, down the beach. That's why the place is deserted. I should have reminded you. There probably wasn't much point opening this morning."
"Oh, I forgot."
"Brendan not going?"
"He probably is. He wasn't up and about when I left."
She brought the small stack of envelopes and advertisements back to the bar, "Did you want to go?"
"I hadn't really thought about. But like you say, there won't be anyone around here. Might as well. Did you want to?"
"Not particularly. I'll take the day off." She smiled, perching on the stool beside Peter's. He pulled her coffee across so it sat in front of her. She discarded two envelopes then stopped and tore one open, eyes wide and hungry.
"What is it?"
A moment later she answered. "A decree nisi."
"A what?"
"One of the hoops." She was still reading, checking she didn't miss any thing. "The big one, I suppose."
"Ah." He watched her, resisting the urge to read over her shoulder. "So what next?"
"Six weeks of waiting and then, in theory, the final application for the final decree and then – and then." She cocked her head to the side, watching his face, then reached out for his hand.
He finally looked into her eyes. "And then you're free?"
She shook her head. "And then I'm marrying you."
He looked like he wanted to smile but lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it instead. She watched him, wondering how easy it would be to just seduce him, but no. Bad idea. "So, shall we go to the beach to celebrate?"
"What about your day off?"
"I'll have it at the beach."
"We should have brought a picnic." Peter stepped on the back of his shoe and wriggled his foot out."
"I'll buy you a hotdog. Your feet are going to freeze."
He whipped off his sock and stuffed it in the shoe, then grinned, sinking his feet into the cool sand. "You don't know what you're missing."
"I know exactly what I'm missing." Assumpta walked ahead, letting Fionn dictate the pace, while Peter removed his second shoe and rolled up his jeans.
He jogged to catch up. "You don't want to dip your toes in the sea?"
"In this sea? Once is enough."
He shook his head, smile unshakeable just now. She pulled Fionn back to her side and Peter patted him, "You can go mad once they've run. The Doc'd never forgive us if you spooked his horse."
Fionn ducked around behind Peter and trapped him in the leash. Assumpta just laughed, doing nothing to help, but her attention was drawn away by the sight of Niamh, walking along the beach, skirt twisted up in one hand, beside Sean Dillon, who was giving Kieran a ride on his shoulders.
"Ambrose still hunting down what's his face?" Assumpta said, handing the dog's leash to a tangled Peter.
"Expecting a face-off as we speak, I'm afraid."
"So he's being a martyr."
"He wants to protect his family."
"If you ever pull a stunt like that I'll cut you off."
"From the tap?"
She just looked at him, lips twitching to smile though she beat it.
"Right." He let Fionn tug him forward, on a short leash now.
Assumpta watched Niamh laugh and turn to walk backwards, facing Sean, waving to Kiaran. Dillon lifted the boy and swooped him into his mother's arms, then jogged off to talk to someone. Niamh spotted Assumpta and Peter then headed their way at Kiaran's pace.
Peter tied his shoe laces together as they walked. "You'd rather muddy up your shoes than feel the sand between your toes, the exhilaration?"
"If I take my shoes off now I can tell you where I'll aim them."
Peter jogged ahead of her, out of shot, and dropped his shoes on the hard sand out of range of the to-and-fro of the waves. He splashed into the shallows, to Kiaran's great delight.
Assumpta shook her head but smiled.
The horses ran and with everyone distracted, Assumpta sidled up to Niamh. "Ambrose is missing all the fun."
Niamh just nodded.
"Everything alright?"
"I'm fine. I'm just," she sighed, "I'm on too short a fuse, but so is he, and it's not a good combination."
"Oh."
"He thinks that I think he can't look after us properly, but that's not what I think. Only, any way I try to tell him so he takes badly."
"So he's going nose to nose with some thug to prove it." Assumpta watched Niamh's face, wondering how serious this really was, "Maybe he'll feel better afterwards, once he's made his point."
"Assuming he's still capable of feeling anything at all." She put a hand to her head. "He's such a-"
"An idiot. But you love him."
Niamh sighed, looked Assumpta in the eye and nearly smiled. "Where's Peter got to?"
"I'm not his keeper."
"Sure sure – oh, there he is. What do you think eh?"
Assumpta followed her line of sight. "Of Orla? I want her legs but other than that, I mean, she's fine. Friendly, a fresh face, which we need around here."
"Yeah, yeah, she's great. But what about for Padraig?"
"Ah."
"Exactly."
Orla laughed outright but Assumpta wasn't convinced. "Are they actually, well - ?"
"She says no, but who knows?"
"You don't believe her?"
"Maybe she's just not sure what'll happen so she's keeping it under wraps."
"She's not you, Niamh."
Niamh affected something like offence.
"Or me. Anyway, none of our business." Assumpta watched as Orla all but shirked the man. The man, however, didn't notice because Peter had said something to him and he turned away at just the moment.
"I think Padraig might have the wrong idea." Niamh said.
"No kidding."
"Maybe Peter's putting him straight."
"Maybe."
"It must be strange." Niamh turned away from them, adjusting Kiaran on her hip.
"What must be strange?"
"I mean, he was the priest."
"Ah."
"I mean doesn't it make you do a proper double-take every now and then?"
"Probably not as much as it should."
"Aren't we beyond the realm of shoulds?"
"Niamh-"
"No, I'm not, I mean – I don't know what I mean."
Assumpta watched her avoid eye contact. "Are you sure you're alright."
"I miss what we were. I miss Ambrose, but it's not as if I'm the same as I always was."
"You just need some time alone – without house guests or a baby, or a mobster."
"Whatever would we have to talk about?"
That gave Assumpta pause. She looked out to sea as if it offered answers, and then spotted Peter, spinning his shoes on their laces, looking awful sullen, walking along the waterline.
"Leave Kiaran with us for the night."
"Us?"
"I mean with me."
"No it's alright."
"Niamh."
"Go on." She nodded toward Peter.
"Okay, but if you need to talk."
Niamh nodded.
