Peter stood on the side of the road, watching the cars go by. He was surprisingly calm, considering he'd just arrived in Cilldargan. Since making the decision to come to Ballyk he'd felt a sense of calm. He had something to focus on, something to work towards. He'd spent hours thinking about what he'd say, how he'd approach her. He knew he'd need to stay in control of the situation, if he could. Once Assumpta got going…
He looked up the fairly familiar street. It was the closest he'd been to Ballyk in months, and definitely the closest he thought he'd ever be again. No going back now, he thought. He realised unhappily that he wasn't sure if he wanted to.
He looked at his watch. It was 3:30pm. Brendan had said he'd meet him here after he'd finished school – save any awkward encounters on the Ballykissangel bus - which Peter worked out would be around this time.
As he looked around, Brendan's car pulled up in front of him, and Brendan got out as Peter threw his bag in the back. Brendan shook his hand, his face serious, but happy.
'Good to see you, Peter.'
'It's great to see you too, Brendan,' Peter replied, his voice full of meaning.
Brendan studied his passenger as much as possible on the trip back. Peter was painfully thin, although he thought he remembered him not being quite so broad-shouldered. His face had a gaunt look about it, and the bags under his eyes were more like suitcases. Brendan sighed to himself, noting the similarities between Peter and Assumpta's current states of exhaustion. Peter probably edged out Assumpta, but not by much. Peter always did wear his heart on his sleeve.
'So, a community centre, eh?' Brendan asked. Peter smiled.
'A lot has happened, Brendan,' Peter admitted.
'I can see that,' Brendan said. 'Tell me about it.'
Peter told him all about the centre, filling in the blanks where the article had left out information. He told him about Sam and Mark, and the boys – his own futsal team – and his fight to save the centre. And finally, about his decision to leave the church.
'That's a big call, Peter.'
'I know.'
'Folks around here may not like it much,' he warned, and Peter nodded knowingly.
'But it was the right one. I think,' he added to the end.
'Yeah,' Brendan agreed, and Peter looked at him. Brendan shrugged. 'It was only a matter of time, Peter. You don't march to the beat of the same drum.' Peter smiled. Brendan knew him too well.
'That was the problem, yes.'
'So, you run the centre now?'
'Yeah.'
'On your own?'
'Mostly.' Brendan whistled and Peter smiled ruefully. 'It's a big job, yeah. But it's worth it. There are some fantastic kids.'
'Do you think you'll stay there?' Peter looked out at the houses that lined the outskirts of Cilldargan. He knew what Brendan was asking.
'Yes,' he said straight away, nodding his head. Brendan glanced over at him, surprised. 'All I want to do is explain, Brendan, and I'll be lucky if I even get to do that,' he said, his voice tinged with sorrow, and apprehension. Brendan sighed and rolled his eyes.
'Just see how it goes, yeah?' he suggested. Peter nodded. It was taking all his strength to keep his hopes down. He couldn't cope with disappointment at the moment, and that was certain to be one. All of a sudden the car reached the top of a crest, and all Peter could see was green. He couldn't stop himself from smiling, his heart soaring as they began to climb the beautiful green mountains of Ireland.
'I've missed this place so much,' he admitted, his voice strained, and loaded with meaning. Brendan glanced over at him. Peter could never hide his emotions well, particularly not now.
'Give it time, Peter. Give it time.'
Alex walked down the dark street, his keen eyes looking for Brendan's car. Brendan had told him of Peter's plan, and Alex had offered his help.
He spotted the car, just down the road from the church car park. He walked up to it, knocking on the window. Peter's head shot around, a look of alarm on his face. He wound down the window when he saw Alex.
'Peter? Alex Jackson. I'm…well, I'm the new you, I suppose,' he said with a smile. Peter shook off his look of surprise and opened the car door. He shook Alex's outstretched hand, looking around furtively. Alex smiled.
'It's ok. There's no one here. Not now, anyway,' Alex offered.
Peter smiled. 'You've been talking to Brendan,' he said knowingly.
Alex smiled back. 'And I think I can help,' he said. 'I have a tale of my own, Peter.'
Alex pushed open the door of the pub. It was busy, but not so busy that he couldn't find a quiet part of the bar to sit. Brendan saw him from behind the bar and nodded before busying himself with Padraig and Siobhan. Assumpta sighed and stepped over to the priest.
'Can I get you something, Father?' she asked curtly.
'Ah, pint of lager, thanks,' he replied. Brendan took his chance and moved down the bar, as Assumpta placed Alex's pint down in front of him.
'Father! Good to see you,' he said. He frowned. 'Now here's something new. Tell us a bit about yourself, Father,' he said. Alex glanced at Assumpta, who had leant against the back of the bar, her arms folded and a fiery look on her face. He could tell she was listening, however reluctantly. Now to keep her interest. 'How long have you been a priest?' Brendan asked.
'Five years,' he replied, taking a sip of his lager.
Brendan raised his eyebrows. 'Only five? What did you do before that?' he asked jovially. Assumpta glanced at him, her tongue in her cheek. Alex just grinned.
'Are you calling me old, Brendan?' Alex joked, and Brendan raised his hands in mock innocence.
'I would never, Father.' Alex laughed, but answered his question.
'I was training to be a teacher, actually,' he explained, and Brendan grinned.
'Good man!' he cried, and Alex smiled. Brendan was very much playing this up, and it was genuinely amusing. Niamh had sidled up next to Assumpta, watching and listening herself. 'I don't have to ask why you gave it up,' Brendan joked.
'My wife died,' he said, taking a sip of his lager. The change in the atmosphere around them was sudden and dramatic. Niamh and Brendan looked shocked. Assumpta closed her eyes.
'I'm sorry, Father,' Brendan said, his voice heavy with guilt.
'It's fine, Brendan. It was a long time ago,' he said, smiling and waving him off. 'It's ok now.' He looked around at the sombre faces of his small audience, knowing this was his chance. Assumpta was still there, blocked in by Niamh. She was fiddling with something below his eyeline, but he could tell she was listening.
'She was diagnosed with cancer. She fought it, but it only took six months.' Niamh's hand went to her mouth.
'So young,' she said.
'Yeah, she was 25,' Alex said. 'Too young.' He took another sip of his lager. 'I'd have done anything to save her,' he added gravely, staring at Assumpta. Her eyes rose to meet his. 'I'd have traded my own life for hers.' She swallowed and looked down, her pink cheeks flushing. 'Love makes you do crazy things,' he added, taking a big gulp of his lager.
'I suppose it does,' Brendan said sombrely.
'Anyway, that's why I became a priest. I raged against God for a long time after that. I couldn't understand why he'd taken her away from me. But the more I fought, the more I searched the bible for an answer, the more I began to realised that helping people was what I wanted to do.' He smiled. 'And here I am, in the most beautiful little town in the world for my trouble.'
Brendan forced himself to smile. 'To Father Jackson,' he said, raising his stout. Niamh followed suit. 'To Father Jackson,' she replied. Assumpta took the opportunity to flee to the other end of the bar, a move which did not go unnoticed by Alex or Brendan.
Alex just prayed his story wouldn't go unheeded.
Peter leant against the wall of the pub, his stomach doing backflips. It was late. He'd watched from Brendan's car as a large group of people had spilled out of the pub and on to the street, including Padraig and Siobhan. He'd smiled as Siobhan had climbed into her car – she was really starting to show. He'd watched them all disappear down the street before climbing out of the car and heading over to the pub. He was just waiting for Brendan to emerge, and he would go inside. To her.
He swallowed nervously as he felt the panic rise up in his chest.
If You want this to work, You have to help. I can't do this without You.
He took a deep breath, calming himself down. He needed to stay in control; to calmly and clearly explain. To tell her that he loved her so much it hurt. That he needed her. That he was sorry. That he only asked for her forgiveness, even if she never wanted to see him again.
He turned as he heard the Pub door open. Brendan appeared and gave him a tight smile.
'Good luck.'
Peter took a deep breath. He was ready. 'Thanks, Brendan.'
Brendan watched as Peter walked through the door. For the first time in years, he prayed.
Any and all feedback greatly appreciated, especially at this point in the story... *bites nails nervously*