Assumpta lay in bed the next morning hoping to hear the kids stirring which would give her a reason to get up and something to focus on, but instead there was silence and she was left with her own thoughts.
She'd had a nightmare about Peter in the early hours and had tossed and turned for the rest of the night. She stared up at the ceiling as tears trickled down her face. It reminded her of her previous life in Ballykissangel, she'd spent a lot of time shedding tears privately over Peter. She thought she'd left that all behind.
She heard a door close, the creak of floorboards and the living room door being opened. She hurriedly brushed the tears away and tried to compose her features into a cheerful expression before going to greet her children.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Brendan sat at the bar staring into his pint wondering how to tackle this. He glanced up at Assumpta. She was wiping the bar. In fact she'd been cleaning that same spot for twenty minutes now. The only other thing he'd seen her do was check her mobile and mutter about the lack of signal.
"Assumpta," he said tentatively. She didn't appear to hear him but carried on wiping the bar and staring into space.
"Assumpta," he tried again. She looked up, startled. Before Brendan could think about how to begin the bar door opened and Father Mac and Father Aiden stepped in. Brendan inwardly groaned, this clearly wasn't the time.
Assumpta eyed them warily but there wasn't the same fire and fight about her that Brendan expected, it was worrying. Siobhan and Padraig shifted slightly on either side of him and he knew they were also expecting fireworks during this first meeting.
Father Mac stood at the bar and drew himself up. Although he was getting on in years and was semi-retired as parish priest he'd lost none of his fight, determination or sarcasm.
"Mrs Clifford I heard a rumour you had returned to the fold but I refused to believe it until I'd seen you with my own eyes. I presume you are now Mrs Clifford or is it still Fitzgerald or even McGarvey?" He scrutinised Assumpta.
Assumpta didn't flinch from his gaze but met it with an inscrutable one of her own. She turned to Aiden and said, "Since Father Mac doesn't look like he's going to introduce us I suppose I better." She stuck her hand out saying," Assumpta Clifford."
Aiden, who'd been looking taken aback at this exchange, hastily shook Assumpta's hand mumbling "Aiden O'Connell, pleased to meet you."
"I didn't think you'd be interested in an introduction to the local curate," Father Mac said witheringly.
Assumpta's eyes flashed. "Well over the years I've realised that you can't tar all priests with the same brush."
Father Mac raised his eyebrows muttering, "I just bet you did."
Assumpta was about to retort when Aiden interrupted. "Clifford that's not a very Irish name, does seem familiar though, would I have met your husband?"
"You'll have seen the name in the church books and documents years ago when you first came to Ballykissangel. Mr Clifford was your predecessor." Father Mac's voice could have cut glass.
Aiden looked momentarily confused then simply said "Oh," as realisation dawned. He hastily looked down avoiding Assumpta's sharp look.
Assumpta slammed a glass down on the bar and narrowed her eyes at Father Mac. "What can I get you?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"Just two teas I think," he replied ignoring Assumpta's seething anger. "Where is your husband? I hear he's not back in Ballyk, joining you later is he?"
"I thought gossiping would have been beneath you Father," she said in an icy tone.
"I merely ask."
Brendan was thankful that the pub door swung open at that point interrupting Assumpta's reply. Sam and Dylan entered and Assumpta bit back whatever retort was brewing and smiled at the two boys who'd come in carrying a football.
"Good game?" she asked mildly.
"Yeah but it started to rain. Dylan's never played FIFA 10 can we go and play it mum?" Sam asked enthusiastically.
"Okay but if it stops raining you go back outside and play the real thing."
"Okay," Sam groaned.
"Does your mum know you're here Dylan?"
"Yeah I asked her, she said it was fine."
"Alright go on with you. There's some biscuits in the kitchen you can take up with you."
"Thanks mum," grinned Sam disappearing into the kitchen and reappearing seconds later with a plate. The two boys raced up the stairs.
Father Mac watched him go saying, "He looks just like his father doesn't he?" in a thoughtful tone.
Assumpta had been standing with her back to the bar making tea. Her hands stilled mid motion. Brendan could have sworn he saw her shoulders shake before she muttered an apology and fled to the kitchen.
Father Mac at least had the good grace to look taken aback. "I didn't mean anything by it," he muttered. "He does look very like his father."
"Is everything okay with her husband?" Aiden looked concerned.
"We're not sure Father," replied Padraig, "she's not saying much to anyone."
Father Mac stared thoughtfully at the door. "Perhaps I should talk to her."
Brendan got up out of his seat hastily and rounded the bar saying, "I'll see if she's okay."
He knocked tentatively on the kitchen door and pushed it open at Assumpta's invitation.
Assumpta was stood over the sink. Although she stood with her back to Brendan he could tell she was crying.
"Assumpta," he began gently, "I think we need to talk. Why isn't Peter here?"
Assumpta took a deep shaky breath and said, " I can't Brendan, I'm sorry."
Brendan contemplated this statement and then said, "The kids seemed to enjoy their first day at the school. Molly get on okay at nursery?"
Assumpta wiped her eyes and turned to look at him, grateful for the change of subject. "Yeah she had fun and the other two both seem fine. Sam's delighted to have his Uncle Brendan teach him." She gave a small smile and wiped away some tears.
"We need to talk about Sam actually."
"Why what's the matter?"
"I know he's always been quiet but he seems more withdrawn than usual, although he and Dylan seem to have become firm friends." Brendan took a deep breath and carried on. "He's been saying that he's not allowed to talk about his dad. Assumpta what's going on? Where's Peter? Why are you refusing to say anything and why is your nine year old son saying he's not allowed to mention his Dad?"
Assumpta looked upwards, fighting for composure. "He is allowed to talk about him but I had to tell him not to say anything about why Peter isn't here. If I tell you can you promise not to say anything, I don't want," she paused revising her words, "I can't have everyone knowing."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Niamh arrived at the pub shortly before dinner time to collect her youngest son but encountered an odd and slightly strained atmosphere when she arrived. Father Mac and Father O'Connell were sitting at one end of the bar in quiet conversation, although Father Mac kept looking intently at Assumpta who was standing at the other end of the bar. Assumpta hadn't noticed her enter, she was in a world of her own. She had that same worried look that seemed to be etched on her face at the moment. Brendan was sitting at the bar near her. He too looked worried. Occasionally his eyes would flit to Assumpta and his face would fill with concern.
It was Father O'Connell who noticed her and pulled her away from her observations by calling her over.
"I'm just here to pick up Dylan but thanks Father," she smiled.
"Sorry Niamh I was miles away," Assumpta greeted her. "I'll just get him." She disappeared upstairs.
"You alright there Brendan?" Niamh asked.
"What? Hi Niamh. Sorry, what did you say?" Brendan muttered.
"I just wondered if everything was alright."
"Course, why wouldn't it be?" Brendan replied, too quickly.
Niamh frowned wondering if Brendan's odd behaviour meant Assumpta had finally opened up to someone.
Assumpta appeared again with Dylan and Sam following.
"Hi Mum." "Hi Mrs Egan." They chorused.
"Hi boys, who won?"
The phone in Fitzgerald's rang as they both excitedly dissected their football games for her, both the real-life one and the computer game. Niamh nodded along with their story but her attention had been drawn to Assumpta who was talking quietly, and almost desperately, into the phone. Niamh strained to hear what she was saying.
"Nothing? How is that possible? I don't know how much longer I can go on like this?"
There was a pause while the other person obviously spoke.
"So still no decision about what needs to be done?" Assumpta twisted the phone cord nervously around her fingers as she listened.
"What if it's too late?" There was a catch in Assumpta's voice as she said this.
"Well they're not doing enough are they?" She retorted angrily to whatever the caller had said and her expression grew darker as she listened again.
"Stop! Stop telling me what you've been told to say and tell me what you actually think."
There was a long pause as Assumpta listened. Niamh couldn't see her face as she'd turned away but the slump of her shoulders suggested that the news was not good.
"Okay, I know."
"I'm sorry I've got practically no mobile signal here. You know this is the number to get me on now."
"I have to carry on with life, isn't that what you said? Well that's why I'm here." She muttered furiously then took a deep breath and continued. "I need to go but please do everything you can."
"Okay, you too. Bye," she said in a small voice.
Assumpta put the receiver down and Niamh suspected she was trying to compose herself before turning round. She quickly turned her attention back to the boys but noticed that Sam wasn't listening to Dylan's blow by blow account of Ireland versus England, instead he was studying his mum intently. Niamh was again struck by how much he looked like Peter. She'd seen that expression on Peter's face years ago, the way he would watch someone carefully, often Assumpta when she was upset or cross, before approaching them.
"Mum was that..." he finally began to ask but Assumpta whipped round and said, "Just business sweetheart." She had an all too bright smile on her face.
Sam nodded slowly but didn't look fooled for one minute. "I'll just go tidy my room. Bye Dylan." He turned and ran up the stairs. Assumpta watched him go and Niamh thought she looked close to tears again. Before Niamh could think of something to say Brendan appeared behind Assumpta, placing a hand on her shoulder and murmuring, "Everything okay?"
Assumpta shook her head but seemed unable to speak.
"I'll mind the bar, go up and talk to Sam."
"Thanks," she choked.
They both watched Assumpta go upstairs then Niamh turned to her son and said, "Go on home and tell your dad I'll be back in a minute." After Dylan had left she turned to Brendan and looked at him enquiringly.
"Ah Niamh don't ask me because I promised I wouldn't say anything," he said quickly.
"I don't understand why she won't tell me what's going on. I mean I know we've grown apart but,"
"She has her reasons," Brendan interrupted her gently. "Just be a good friend to her yeah?"
His expression was so serious and intense that any argument Niamh was composing died away. She simply nodded and headed home.