Peter, Late June 1998

Peter watched the water coursing underneath the bridge at Ballykissangel, as he'd done a thousand times before, hoping the familiar rushing waters would calm his soul. Since Niamh had told him that Assumpta was married, he'd wandered in a daze to the church and then around the village, trying to find a way to process the news, and trying not to breakdown.

He'd arrived back in Ballykissangel in fairly good spirits, and feeling hopeful that he could be a better priest than when he'd left. The loss of his house and the fact that his friends weren't talking to each other had dampened his mood a bit, but it'd still been good to back amongst the community and ready to get on with the job of serving it. That was until he realised what Niamh was telling him, that Assumpta had married Leo. He'd had a physical, visceral reaction to it, unlike anything else he'd ever known, like the floor he was standing on had just dropped away and he was falling.

He rested his head on edge of the bridge, the rough stone cooling his burning forehead. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to speak to Niamh after he'd realised it was Assumpta she was talking about.

"Assumpta's a grown woman; she can make her own decisions"

It had come out harsher than he meant it, but it was the truth. What right did he have to expect her to make decisions with reference to him? He'd told her that whatever had been going on between them was over; he'd told her that he'd gotten off the fence, he'd chosen the priesthood. She wasn't beholden to him, he was offering her nothing, but, O God, it hurt like hell that she would marry someone else, and so soon. He beat his fists against the bridge, tears escaping from his eyes against his will.

A car engine revving made him remember that he was in public and he stood back up and wiped his eyes. The only logical reason he could think for Assumpta to get married was that she wasn't in love with him like he was with her. Maybe for her this had just been a fleeting thing, a momentary lapse of judgement, whereas for him… for him it had been, it was, all encompassing. He hadn't scrubbed her from his mind, he didn't think he ever could, but she seemed to have been able to scrub him from hers. She couldn't be in love with him if she'd married another man, surely?

Leo's face loomed into Peter's mind and he felt a stab of jealously. He remembered watching Assumpta hug Leo in the bar when he'd arrived to cover the election and, with hindsight, he recognised the same jealous flash as he'd watched her embrace him without a thought. Something she'd never done to him, something he supposed she probably never would now. There was an easy-ness between them, a familiarity, which betrayed their previous relationship. Leo had admitted to him that he was still in love with Assumpta, that he'd never really loved anyone else. Those words echoed round his mind; maybe that was true for Assumpta too - that she'd never really loved anyone else, she'd never really loved him. They'd never actually spoken anything out loud to each other, maybe he'd just assumed wrongly that she was in the same place as he was. Fundamentally he did want Assumpta to be happy, and if Leo made her happy then he would have to find a way to accept what had happened. He wanted to, but my goodness it hurt his heart to think of them together, to think of him holding her and growing old with her. And in amongst the jealousy and the hurt there was also a vein of anger simmering away, that she would lead him on and then not even have the decency to tell him she was getting married.

A hymn floated into his mind. They'd sung it at the Priory and he'd found it a comfort to think that God might have a plan for him and for his broken heart.

"When through fiery trials your pathway shall lie,

My grace, all-sufficient, shall be your supply,

The flame shall not hurt you, I only design,

Your dross to consume and the gold to refine."

This was a fiery trial indeed. He crossed the road, back to the church almost getting run over by a van in the process. A familiar voice shouted from the vans window:

"Nearly brought you closer to God there Father! See you Friday!"

Uh, the ridiculous Battle of the Bars. That was all he needed.


Assumpta, Battle of the Bars, early July 1998

Assumpta stood behind the bar, watching Peter's Battle of the Bars event in full swing before her, bringing people together and making her money. It was so like him to be able to pull something like this off and she missed his companionship again, for what felt like the thousandth time since she'd arrived back home. He was awkward and distant and worse, hurt and angry. Maybe if she'd never come back to Ballykissangel, and the pub, maybe she could've managed without him, but now, here, she just missed him.

As soon as Peter had come into Fitzgerald's after she and Leo had arrived home, she knew she should've found a way to tell Peter beforehand. She cursed her inability to write the words down, to at least pay him that curtesy. Instead she'd left Siobhan to announce that they were married and not known where to look as Peter congratulated Leo and ignored her.

She had tried to talk to him, she went to find him, like she had done a million times before, but this time he wouldn't look at her, he wouldn't engage with or joke with her. And when he had looked at her, only because she forced him to, the pain in his eyes was obvious and she felt a stab of guilt. She hadn't married Leo in order to hurt Peter, that was definitely not what she wanted; she'd married Leo because she wanted to move on and he was offering her love and a future.

Peter's anger at their 'instant wedding' was unreasonable though. Hurt, yeah she got that, but his anger was unexpected. Obviously it was quick, she knew half the village probably thought she was pregnant, but she and Leo knew how they were together, he was not some random guy she'd bumped into. And what was Peter expecting her to do? Put her life on hold? He had told her they had no future, that his future was the church; it was him who had chosen first, not her. She had simply followed his lead and chosen a life in which they were just friends, and now he wouldn't just be her friend.

It actually made her a bit angry thinking about it, but then McLogan's contestant started singing and it was beautiful, almost enchanting, and her anger dissipated. Peter's anger was an expression of his hurt, that was all surely. She stole a glance at him, sitting alone at the far end of the bar. He just looked sad and she wished there was something she could do to make it better, but, of course, there wasn't.

"Forgive me, love, if I forsook you,

I was mistaken, I'll not deny.

But love cannot be cured, it must be endured.

Tis his I'll be til the day I die."

O God those words; they were haunting. It felt like the girl was singing just for her, like the the busyness of the bar had faded into the background, just leaving her and Peter in sharp focus. She looked over at him again, the music drew her to, and this time he also looked at her, dropping his eyes as soon as he realised she was looking. Assumpta felt a hollow pit in her stomach as she realised just how much her heart still burned for Peter. O God, and she was married.