Assumpta, March 1997

As she slammed the door after Peter, Assumpta's anger was already subsiding and she knew she'd overreacted, but equally she still felt wounded by him and frustrated at herself for letting it get to this.

After Peter had left, the night before, she'd replayed their conversation over and over until she'd felt like she was going crazy. Even once she'd finished tidying the bar, she'd lain awake until the small hours ruminating and growing increasingly, and probably irrationally, angry at the priest for shutting down their conversation.

She wasn't sure what had made her open up like she had, it was unlike her. Maybe the stress of the day, or the wine, or possibly just Peter himself; he seemed to have more and more of an effect on her just by being there. The fact he'd come back to the pub after closing to help her and that even their small interaction had lifted her mood was testament to just how much she'd actually come to rely on him.

It was true that she had been stung by Niamh's barb about wanting what she couldn't have; stung she supposed because she recognised the truth in it, or at least some element of truth. She wasn't stupid, she knew that Peter was a priest, and what that meant for his relationships, but she did find herself wanting something more from him; wanting to be special to him, wanting him to think about her as much as she thought about him. Last night, when she'd turned the conversation serious, he'd bailed on her; he'd turned priest and it was that that had hurt her. Of course he needed to say Mass, he was a priest. In that moment he was a priest and not her friend and that cut her deeply.

By the time she'd set the bar up for another day's trade, her anger had ebbed away completely, but she realised that she needed to do a better job of guarding her heart than she had been. Peter was a priest, and, whether she liked it or not, that was not going to change, so she needed to protect herself from being hurt like this again.


Peter, June 1997

"Is it true you're leaving?"

Peter could tell it wasn't a good time for Assumpta, she was clearly distracted by the two men sat at the bar, but he'd been unable to think of much else since he wheedled the details out Niamh earlier in the day.

Assumpta rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh, this place drives you mad… You say something to one person you might as well post it on a wall!"

Peter arched his eyebrows back at her. He understood her irritation at the gossip in the village but he felt wounded that she hadn't talked to him first, that he'd had to find out from the gossip and not from her. He felt that, since their argument about wanting what you couldn't have, she'd been holding him at arms length and the thought that she was thinking of leaving and not involving him in that had weighed heavy on his heart; it felt like he was losing her.

"Are you?"

Peter felt irritation flash into him when Assumpta wanted to talk to him about duty-free beer rather than his question. He'd had his fill of villagers dodging their taxes and fiddling the system.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Whether I should sell bootleg beer?!"

He let out a slightly too frustrated sigh. Perhaps this was why that late-night wanting what you couldn't have conversation had upset Assumpta so much. It was frustrating to be batted away with humour when you just wanted to talk.

"You know what I mean; about leaving Bally K"

"It's my business"

The words stung, like a slap around the face. He knew rationally that he had no right to be a part of her decision making process, but, rightly or wrongly, he wanted to be, he wanted to be part of her business, for their friendship to matter to her like it mattered to him.

"I care about you Assumpta."

The words were out of his mouth before he realised the significance of them. He did care about her. It mattered to him how she was doing and whether she was happy or not. He knew sometimes that strayed across a line and that he cared for her more than a priest probably should, but it was what it was and he had thought she cared for him, in some sort of way. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he'd just wanted her to care about him.

"Perhaps you're right. It is your business. I just thought we were… hmm…"

He trailed off. He didn't know what he thought they were, that was the problem. More than friends, less than lovers; what did that leave them with? Just confusion and hurt it seemed. He didn't want her to leave but neither did he really have anything to offer her to stay. Niamh was surely right, why wouldn't she want love and family? And could he really expect his different sort of love be enough for her to stay with him?

"Yeah I know Peter, but I, um… I haven't decided anything yet. When I'm ready, I, um… you'll all know what I'm gonna do."

The two of them held each others' gaze, Peter wanting to say something more, but not being able to formulate the words. He dropped his eyes first, cursing himself for his inaction. If she did leave he knew that he would replay this moment forever, but what else could he say? Maybe he'd already said too much.


Assumpta, June 1997

"Is that what you're looking for Assumpta?"

Peter gestured over to Niamh and Ambrose as he spoke, the couple dancing happily together. Assumpta looked over at her best friend and watched as she whispered something into her husband's ear which made him laugh. Was that what she wanted? The traditional wedding and baby set-up? She honestly didn't know. As usual, she and Peter had spent most of the evening together in the bar, but tonight his words from earlier, that he cared about her, rung in her ears, messing up her resolve to guard her heart from him.

"No…, no, no, I don't know what I'm looking for…"

It wasn't strictly true that she didn't know what she wanted; the problem was that she wanted what she couldn't have, she wanted Peter. But Peter was a priest so even if he did care about her, even if he loved her, what more could he give her?

"Anyway I'm not likely to find it here…"

She hadn't been looking at him as she'd been talking, focussing instead on watching Niamh and Ambrose, but now she turned to face him in challenge.

"Am I?"

She was almost willing him to set her mind straight, to confirm that there was nothing in Ballykissangel for her, that he couldn't be what she was looking for. Instead, he held her gaze with an intensity she'd not seen before, as if he was seeing into her very soul.

"You can find it anywhere."

At that moment she knew that she wouldn't be going to Dublin. Whatever it was that she and Peter shared, and she honestly didn't know, for now it was enough to keep her here, to keep her here with him. She couldn't imagine not seeing him every day, not railing against him knowing that he would still be there for her the next day, not having him look at her like he was right now.

She sighed gently. What if she had found it, here with Peter, and she could never have it. Where would that leave her?

"Do you believe everything you hear?"

Peter smiled at her and she allowed her heart to flutter slightly.

"Why not? I'm a man of faith aren't I?"

He touch his beer bottle to hers as if to toast the two of them. She continued to look at him and couldn't help smiling slightly as she did.