A/N Thanks to all of the lovely peeps still sticking with this story - and bigger thanks to those leaving a review. You're all wonderful! New Girl - Peter's brother will make an appearance at some point, but perhaps not in the way you might think!

A short chapter for you all today... hopefully not frustratingly so though!

Hailstones spat against the van's windscreen on the approach to Fitzgerald's. The weather hadn't let up, even for a moment, since Assumpta had left the lake-house in Windermere. Everything around her had taken on the faintest hint of mildew. She'd almost grown accustomed to the smell.

Through the rain, Assumpta could make out the bright yellow façade of home. At least that had weathered the storm, she contended. The publican tried to imagine that she too were made from bricks and mortar. She practised her neutral expression in the rear-view mirror. Would the others know? Could any of the provincial minds of Ballykissangel identify the heartbreak that threatened to surface?

Peter didn't drive her to the airport, despite his earlier protestations. As they waited for the taxi on the front steps neither spoke a word. What was left to say? Assumpta imagined that her companion was still reeling with embarrassment from their hurried and perhaps, ill-conceived lovemaking.

The publican winced as she remembered the sombre way they'd dressed, each devastatingly mindful of the other; careful not to catch a glimpse of the other's naked flesh.

It had not been the union they'd hoped for. When Assumpta had imagined their first time, she'd anticipated laughter and fanfare, or at the very least, a quickly succeeding second and third time. Instead of basking in afterglow, they basked in discomfort, neither wanting to be the first or the last to speak.

Eventually, Peter had been the one to break the silence. "I hate this…"

Assumpta smiled wryly, "Don't worry, the taxi will be here soon enough."

"That's not what I – look, do you have to go now? Don't you want to talk?"

The publican stared levelly at the distance. "What more is there to say?"

"I don't like leaving it like this." Peter watched as her shoulders hunched almost as easily as they sank. A universal gesture of practised nonchalance.

"You're not the one leaving," she sighed eventually.

Peter placed a weary hand against his furrowed brow. "I wish I could make you understand."

"I wish you could too." Assumpta eventually managed as the taxi pulled up outside.

As she had moved to climb into it, Peter had pulled her towards him. Too awkward to be an embrace yet too intimate for a hug, the pair had remained sidled up against one another until the rain had soaked them to the skin.

And that's how they left it. Not another word exchanged between them, not even another glance.

Assumpta shuddered at the memory. No, she would not allow her emotions to get the better of her again. Now was the time for composure. She glanced at her watch before deciding that it was late enough for her to sneak upstairs undetected.

She'd almost made it half way up when a booming voice caught her mid-step. "And where have you been hiding then?"

Niamh. Of course, Niamh would still be here. Last orders may have been called over an hour ago but the tidying up would last long into the night.

The publican turned to face her friend, her practised façade carefully formed on her face but she needn't have bothered. After a lifetime of shared experiences, Niamh could read Assumpta like a book. "What's wrong?"

At this, Assumpta felt her face crumple. "Oh Niamh," she whimpered. "I've made such a huge mistake."

The previous emotions each woman had felt had all but diminished as Assumpta made her final declaration. The publican's resolve had all but waned; her friend's suspicion was quietened, at least for now.

This wasn't the time for questions, Niamh quickly realised. Whatever interest she had for the publican's whereabouts over the past three days, her curiosity would have to wait.