Author's note: We're close everyone. One more chapter after this and then it's complete. Thanks to those who have stuck with it!


Assumpta, October 1998

Assumpta was distracted. The pub was filling up and Brian was trying to get everything set up for his Chinese Food Fair, but she couldn't get her head in the game. Peter was with Father Mac and her anxiety levels had risen with each passing hour that he hadn't returned.

They'd returned from Lough Tay at around midday and had a quick sandwich together at the pub. She'd already made the decision to not open till later in the afternoon because of the hearing and it'd eased them gently back into reality. As they'd eaten, quietly companionably, Peter had shown her his childhood photos, which he'd produced from his jacket pocket. She'd smiled at him as a baby and a proud kid in a Middlesbrough football shirt and with his mum. And right at the end of the pile had been a photo of him as an older teen with his arm round a beautiful waif-like girl in a Frankie Says Relax t-shirt who he identified as his first, and only, girlfriend. She'd lingered on the photo, trying to imagine a pre-priesthood Peter and had a flash of irrational jealously that this girl had been able to be with him without all the complications. Peter maybe sensed her thoughts as he said,

"Married to a plumber now, two kids, according to my mum anyway."

"How old are you here?"

"Eighteen, both of us. Just off to uni."

"Life was a lot simpler at eighteen."

She sighed without meaning to, and put the photo down. Peter took her hands, she felt the heat from his fingers radiate though hers.

"One day again, Assumpta."

She smiled at him and he back at her. Complications or no, it was still amazing to be able to be with him like this.

"I'm going to go to church to pray, and I need to speak with Father Mac if I can."

She nodded.

"Will you come back later?"

"Of course"

Peter had lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it and then got up and gone. She'd gone and got changed and then opened the pub.

Now, she looked at her watch again for the hundredth time. Peter had been gone for several hours and she couldn't help the niggling doubts surfacing in her mind. What if Father Mac talked him out of it? What if he sowed enough doubt or manufactured enough complications that Peter changed his mind? Or the catholic guilt got to him… a thousand different possibilities, all of which left her broken hearted again, cycled through her mind. She knew this time it was different, that words had been spoken and feelings aired, but they'd been on the edge of this so many times before and so many times before there'd been enough to keep Peter a priest.

She tried to busy herself again behind the bar. People were moving tables and chairs around and she knew she should be helping but she wanted, she needed, to stay in sight of the door. Just as she was about to check her watch for the hundred and first time, the pub door opened and he was there.

She was almost afraid to look at him, afraid that she might see doubt in his face, afraid that she'd betray them in an instance. He didn't see her straight away, and his gaze swept across the pub. Her gaze followed it, and she briefly caught Brendan's eye. It felt an age until Peter finally looked at her, looked her right in the eye, and his whole face softened into a smile. Her heart leapt and her stomach flipped over as she realised that nothing had changed for him, that whatever Father Mac had or hadn't said, it hadn't changed how things stood. She felt herself relax, felt her face break uncontrollably into a smile as he held her gaze across the busy pub. After a minute or two, and still smiling, he backed out of the pub and closed the door. She stood rooted to the spot for another minute or so, allowing herself to feel happy, allowing the feeling to spread right through her body. It felt good to be so happy.


Peter, October 1998

Peter quietly closed the pub door with Assumpta's face etched into his mind. Her smile, her beautiful open smile, was something so rarely seen, especially in the last few weeks, that he wanted to be able to remember it forever. He'd come back to the pub to to talk to her, to reassure her as he'd promised, but the pub had been too busy and so he'd decided to talk another way and rifled though his jacket pocket to find his phone card.

They'd travelled back from Lough Tay almost in silence, but it'd been a happy silence like he imagined happily married couples to have from time to time; they had both spoken and been honest for probably the first time and, at that point, there was nothing more to say. Fortuitously, Assumpta had already planned not to open the pub til the afternoon and so they'd been gifted some more time when they arrived back in the village and had had a quick lunch together at Fitzgerald's. Over lunch he'd told her he wanted to go to church and pray and try and speak to Father Mac. Whilst he was fairly sure he couldn't be a priest anymore, his faith in God had not left him and prayer was still an important part of who he was; leaving the priesthood did not mean leaving his faith, at least as far as he was concerned. He'd half expected her to fight him on the need to pray, but she hadn't made any comment other than asking him to come back later.

He'd gone home, changed his shirt and reinstated his dog caller. For now, he was still a priest and it felt proper to acknowledge that in front of God. He'd only been on his knees for around half an hour when he realised he was not alone and the Parish Priest was with him. Like before, Father Mac had demonstrated an amazingly well-honed insight into what was going on and whilst, almost out of habit, he'd initially feigned ignorance, he'd agreed that they needed to talk properly.

As they'd headed outside to talk in the grounds of St Joseph's, Peter had been apprehensive but not intimidated; this time around things were different. This time he knew that the priesthood was over for him. He wasn't blasé about that, it was a big deal and he had no plans to do anything rashly or insensitively, but his feelings for Assumpta, and hers for him, meant he knew he could no longer serve God as a priest with a clear conscience. He'd expected Father Mac to try and talk him out of it, but the older man had been surprisingly conciliatory; perhaps he had known for longer than Peter where this was heading. However, Father Mac had been more dismissive of his feelings for Assumpta than he'd expected; he felt like he'd cheapened them, made it out like this would've happened with any number of women across the country. In actual fact, Father Mac's words had had the opposite effect; they'd made him appreciate more clearly just how unique his feelings were, how different this was to other times he'd been tempted by women. Of course, there had been other temptations; Jennie had been infatuated with him and he had, in hindsight, indulged that when he'd felt lonely, and there had been other women who he'd found attractive over the years, but this was not like that at all. This was a deeper and unshakable connection; one which had been tested by separation and unavailability, had persisted despite differences of faith, of opinion, of background, had endured attempts by both to shut it out and quench it. Assumpta had once said to that if two people were meant to be together then there was no force on earth that would keep them apart; he'd teased her for being twee, so unlike her, but their relationship sat as testament to that fact. They had tried and tried to be apart and it would not do; he knew now, after speaking to Father Mac, that he would do whatever it took to grab their chance to be together. That's what he wanted to tell her, that was why he was dialling Fitzgerald's number from the pay phone.

"Fitzgerald's" she answered, and Peter smiled feeling glad that Brendan or Brian hadn't answered the phone.

"Apparently you're everywhere; all over the country…"

"Peter?"

"I don't think so. I think there's only one of you and I can't let you go. I love you. I want you in my life. I'll do whatever it takes, whatever you want. Just don't run away from me."

The words tumbled out of him, half-formed but fully meant. This wasn't just some temptation, some test, this was it, this was the path that his life was meant to take. Until now, he'd focused so much on what he would be giving up, the life and service that he'd be ending; Father Mac, almost ironically, had helped him to focus on what he would be getting, what he would be stepping into; to love and to serve Assumpta, that was what awaited him, that was what God was calling him to and he was not going to mess it up again.

He could hear the noise and bustle of the bar in the background and became aware that Assumpta hadn't said anything in response.

"Assumpta? Speak to me… please…"

There was another pause and for half a second he wondered if he'd lost her.

"Would we have to go to church?!"

He could hear the smile in her voice and he almost laughed out loud. Relief and elation flooded his body, making him feel light headed.

"Come and see me, I need to see you!"

"I'm at the pub Peter…"

"I know, just five minutes. Meet me at the river?"

He needed to see her. He needed to make what he'd just said tangible. It felt like a dream right now.

"Alright. I'll be there."

He put the receiver down and rested his head against the glass, catching his breathe. It was real, it was happening.