"I thought it was going to be a battle of the bars." Brian took an unimpressed sip of his drink.
"This way everyone can be involved." Peter put Brian's change on the bar.
"For a fee."
"Five pound a team. Something toward the prizes."
"Which are what? A gift basket worth a tenner?"
Peter shook his head.
"Well, what then?"
"Bottle of Tyrconnell, Belgian chocolates, um, what else, 'Sumpta?"
"Your mother's secret Paella recipe."
"What?"
"See, it's priceless." Assumpta bit back a grin, darting her eyes to Brian, daring him to complain.
"Can't I just cook it for them?"
"Ah, fine." She smiled at him, gaze soft, lingering. Then she turned away with a breath of a laugh. They made a point of barely touching one another while they were working. People needed time to get their heads around these things. But when she looked at him like that Peter stopped in his tracks, every time. Surely they might as well be french kissing on the bar.
People hustled and rustled their teams. Brian and Father Mac snapped up the curate and his worldly wise sister. They might have preferred the Doc over the curate, but brother and sister were a package deal. Orla insisted. "No good can come of me and Aidan being on opposing teams. Trust me, Brian."
Niamh had hoped to have Orla by her side, but Emma Dillon was keen and at least she'd be up to date with celebrities and pop music – well, maybe. More likely than most. Though, with Peter Clifford was writing the quiz that might not be as useful as she hoped.
"I'll be on the team." Ambrose smiled broadly, approaching his wife at the bar.
"You will? Oh, great, but what about Kiaran?"
Siobhan put her hand on the bar, swallowing before she spoke, "With any luck he'll be upstairs asleep, with Aisling. Make-shift nursery in Assumpta's living room. Peter's idea."
"Dad'll be our fourth." Emma assured Niamh. "It'll be great."
"Yeah?" Niamh raised her eyebrows a moment, "Well then, we're a team." She turned to Siobhan. "I take it you and Brendan have snapped up Doc Ryan. As if any of the rest of us have a chance."
"Assumpta too." Siobhan looked pleased.
"Who'll be serving?" Brian said.
"The usual suspects." Peter put Ambrose's pint on the bar. "Between rounds. Short rounds." He grinned.
"Hand on a minute." Brian furrowed his brow, "You're writing the quiz. You're living with Brendan and, well, whatever with the landlady."
"Engaged, Brian."
"Fine, but you're clearly compromised."
"I am not."
Ambrose shook his head, "You can't have a team stacked like that. No way."
Peter just laughed, "It'll be fair. Questions are on my person, or well hidden. Don't you think I know how to keep a secret?"
"Hidden eh?" Brendan said, always one to wind up Brian, or Ambrose, and both at once was like Christmas.
As soon as Peter locked the front door that night Assumpta said, "On your person eh?"
He laughed, "I may not be a priest, but do they really think I'd cheat?"
"They think Brendan and I will cheat." She patted down his shirt. "To be fair, you have been known to bend the rules once or twice, placing bets, hiding bootleg beer, fixing the footy."
"I did not!"
She laughed. "Fine, the publican's race."
"Other than everyone's total lack of faith in my integrity, though, I'd say it's going well."
"Sure, and it doesn't hurt that they've taken to preparing their teams right here. A Paella party at new years and we'll be able to afford those rings maybe."
"I thought the Paella was just for the winners."
"Free for the winners."
He held up his hands. "You're the boss."
"Good answer." She reached up on tiptoes and kissed him. "That integrity was what did it you know."
"Did what?" He stopped her from walking away.
"Swept me off my feet. Though, maybe that's not the right figure of speech."
He smiled. "Didn't hurt that I got up Father Mac's nose from day one."
"Not a lot, no." She pulled away to clean up.
"You know, it was probably the same for me too."
"Huh?"
"Integrity. Your Generosity. Kindness."
"Not just a whopping great surprise – goodness, not a good catholic, still a good person. Say what?"
"No, I don't think I gave up my vocation for the sake of a surprise."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Day after we met you drove me up a mountain, in the middle of the night – and you didn't leave me there."
"What was I thinking?"
He shook his head, "And when Jenny – that woman from Manchester - "
Assumpta smiled. As if she needed reminding.
"- when she visited, you brought over her key, in the pouring rain no less, to spare me from gossip, or worse."
"Were you in that much danger?"
"I don't know. Probably not, but you didn't know that."
"Yes I did."
He stopped, just looked at her, "How?"
She shrugged, "I just knew."
Assumpta was pulling the last beer so Peter returned to the microphone corner. When she sat back beside Brendan he started the final round.
"As the scores stand, All Things Bright and Beautiful are in the lead with one hundred and thirty seven points."
Brendan's laugh rang out while his team mates just grinned.
"Old Dogs and New Tricks are in second place – " the exact number of points was drowned out by Orla's enthusiastic, "Oy oy oy!"
"And in Third third place It's Like That."
Emma and Niamh called out their near-rap response, "And that's the way it is!" before Peter sighed and read out the scores. Ambrose closed his eyes. Sean looked like he was about to laugh.
"And so, we begin the final round. Question one," Peter lifted his cards, "Name the capital of New Zealand."
Orla jumped from her seat, "Wellington!"
"That is correct."
"Question two, what is French for bathroom?"
Assumpta called out, "Salle de," she scrunched her eyes closed and then leaned toward Siobhan, who whispered in her ear. Assumpta shook her head, "Salle de barn?"
Peter cringed, "Pronunciation's off, but yes, salle de bain."
"Yeah, yeah." Assumpta accepted Siobhan's high five somewhat begrudgingly.
"Question three, name all four teletubbies."
Niamh was up like a flash but got stuck after three.
"La la." Emma told her, without bothering to whisper.
"Oh, come on!" Brian protested.
"That's correct." Peter said, marching on, "Question four, name the band responsible for everybody Kung Fu Fighting."
Ambrose raised his hand but didn't wait for permission. "Bus Stop."
"And for a bonus, it's Bus Stop featuring...?"
Ambrose cringed, shook his head, turned to Emma. She shrugged.
"I'll open the question to the floor." Peter invited, but no one knew. "Carl Douglas."
"Who's Carl Douglas when he's at home?" Sean asked aloud.
"Five, spell the surname of the Unabomber." Peter smiled, a little smug at all the stumped faces around him.
"I don't even know his name." Emma whispered but the room was so silent everyone heard. Niamh pulled pen and paper from her purse and started trying out possibilities.
Brendan banged his hand down on the table. "Kaczynski." He closed his eyes and listed the letters, one after the other, bam bam bam.
"Father of my child." Siobhan said on Peter's nod.
"Damn." Assumpta shook her head.
"That's what I said." Siobhan laughed.
"Question six, Billy Chrystal has hosted the Academy Awards how many times?"
"Six!" Emma was quick off the mark. Her father nodded, impressed.
"And question seven," Peter went on, "Name the famous Hong Kong airport which closed for good this year."
Michael covered his mouth, mind clearly whirring away furiously, but Quigley beat him to it. "Kai Tak."
"That's the one." Peter gave Michael a shrug.
"On April sixteen, sorry question eight – on April sixteenth, Marie-Louise Meilleur died. What was her claim to fame?"
Michael smiled slowly, looking around, "I believe she was the oldest living person, at one hundred and eight."
"That is correct."
Congratulations buoyed the table. Ten questions later, however, and they were only one point ahead of Brian, Orla and the two priests.
"Question nineteen," Peter took a leisurely drink of his pint, "On which day in April was the Belfast Agreement signed."
"Oh, man. I should have paid better attention in history." Emma lamented.
"That was this year." Ambrose near-snapped.
"The tenth." Father Aidan raised his hand as he spoke.
"Which brings us to the final question."
"We've won." Brendan said.
"Which has two parts." Peter went on, smiling wide.
"Of course it does." Siobhan leaned forward, ready for anything.
"Zambia and Zimbabwe once shared a name. What was -"
"Rhodesia!" Father Mac didn't have to leave his seat but his pulpit-voice certainly did.
Peter nodded. "And for the bonus point: on the border between these two nations lie one of the natural wonders of the world, a waterfall. Both countries - "
"The victoria falls." Father Mac interrupted.
"I'm afraid that does not answer the question." Peter took little pains to hide his satisfaction. "Both countries share the city surrounding the falls, and its significant tourism. Name that city."
Father Mac's eyes went wide and his entire team turned to him. It was on the tip of his tongue and they could all see it.
"It's not," Siobhan cocked her head to the side, "Livingston?"
Peter took his time, but his smile broke through and gave him away before he spoke. "Livingston is correct."
Siobhan was up out of her seat with a woop. Assumpta slumped back, hand to her chest and caught Peter's eye, smiling wide. Brendan and Michael got up, hugs all around.
Father Mac shook his head, unimpressed, but couldn't catch Peter's eye until the man was behind the bar and serving his drink.
"Awfully close, wasn't it?" The older priest handed over his money.
"Isn't that a good thing?" Peter have him his change.
"I've always wanted to go to Africa." Siobhan raised her glass in Father Mac's direction. "Incredible wildlife."
Father Mac almost nodded and took his drink off to sulk with Quigley.
Assumpta put a beer on the bar and told Peter he was off the clock. "So you might as well stop working."
"Oh, if you insist." he said, but kept on wiping down the bar till he was finished, then threw the towel over his shoulder and went to take the seat beside Siobhan.
A few more people said goodnight and left. Assumpta went to clear their table and grabbed the towel off of Peter's shoulder with a gentle, "'scuse me."
He turned suddenly at the feather touch then, relaxing, let his gaze linger on her. When she caught him at it, he asked, "Are we out of the red, do you reckon?"
"Oh, I think we'll live to see another day."
Brendan spoke up, "Do we have to pay for the drinks alongside this world-famous-in-Manchester Paella?"
Peter hesitated and Assumpta jumped to answer, "'fraid so, but feel free to save the Tyrconnell for the occasion."
Brendan tsked.
"How about one now?" Siobhan finished her drink. "One for the road."
"I'm driving." Michael said.
"Then you can drop us off, eh Peter?" Brendan put his empty beside Siobhan's.
"Does that mean I take the bottle – for safe keeping?" Michael raised an eyebrow.
"What?" Siobhan shook her head, "You boys can walk it."
"So who keeps it?" Brendan demanded.
Assumpta took the bottle from its pride of place. "I will, since you all drink here anyway.
"Sounds fair." Siobhan nodded.
Assumpta waited on Michael and Brendan's nods before breaking the seal. She poured four drinks.
"And one for Peter." Michael said, to no opposition.
Peter looked to be on the verge of tears, but he took his drink, took his time.
Only that small crowd remained by the time he'd finished his really very nice dram.
"Well, we should be off then." Siobhan headed upstairs to fetch Aisling. Michael put on his coat. Brendan slung his over his arm. "And you thought I might need to cheat." He walked out without a word regarding Peter's plans for the night.
Once the door closed behind the lot of them, Assumpta turned to Peter, "That was easy."
He nodded but didn't speak.
"You alright?" She stepped around the bar.
"Sure."
She nodded, "Sure?"
"It's just been a long time," his brow wrinkled, "I suppose it just hits me again sometimes, I'm no longer a priest."
She smiled, "You should try waking up beside you."
He might have stayed with that thought but wanted to be understood, "Friendship is different, or might be. You never know if friends will still be such friends with or without the collar."
"Turns out they are?"
He nodded. "Some of them, yeah."
"So, happy tears?"
He laughed and swiped his cheek.
"You're going to cry at our wedding, aren't you?"
He considered a moment, "Possible."
She rubbed his upper arm. "I love you."
A half sob, half laugh escaped his lips. She took hold of his other arm, ran her hands up to his face and then kissed him.
After just a second he pulled her into a tight embrace, tearing their lips apart to do it.