The next morning Assumpta felt much more like her normal self, she felt free, something she hadn't felt since her hasty trip to Dublin all those months ago.

As she showered the nauseous she had experienced had returned, along with severe stomach cramps. She thought of it as karma for virtually throwing her husband out into the streets and not feeling a thing.

Shortly before she opened there was a knock at the door; it was Peter, wearing his trademark friendly smile. In his hand was a big wicker basket overflowing with heart shaped cupcakes.

"I never had you down as a baker," she chuckled, taking the hamper from him.

"Oh, it's not from me, unfortunately, I would have taken credit for it but there is a card with them. They were on the doorstep." He explained.

"Ah," she smiled, as she extracted the card and read: "'Sumpta, sorry I left these on the doorstep, I was running late for mother and baby group, Ambrose said he was much too busy to call. Kieran and I did some baking yesterday and hoped these might help you to feel better. Lots of love, Niamh and Kieran. P.S if Ambrose calls in for a pint at lunchtime you have my permission to kill him!"

The next part of the card was written in Mr Egan's scrawl: "Get well soon Assumpta, don't listen to Niamh, I can assure you I am much too busy for a pint, Ambrose."

Both Peter and Assumpta smiled, the Egan's were what you would describe as a 'one-off couple.'

"Cuppa tea?" She asked, taking the basket from the bar into the back.

"Please, I only dropped round to see if you were feeling better."

"Much better thanks," she lied.

"Good, you still look a bit peaky."

"Oh, well I guess it is just the guilt of last night," the Irish woman said, looking sheepish.

"You mean with Leo? How did he take it?"

"Not very well, he didn't feel the same as me so he stormed out, he'll be back. He left all of his things here."

"How are you feeling about it all?"

"Oh, you know. Relieved, cold."

"Come here," Peter said soothingly, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "It'll be okay, I promise."

"Thank, you being here for me, it really does mean a lot," she admitted with caution.

"I know that wasn't easy for you to say," joked Peter.

"Watch it," she playfully jabbed his side with her elbow. "Do you fancy one of these cakes? There are far too many for me."

"Thanks, if you don't mind."

"Of course not, that's why I offered you one." Replied Assumpta, as she put the colourful bakes on two side plates.

As Assumpta bit down on the cake, the rich pink butter cream made her feel nauseous, she placed the sponge on the plate and tried not to let Peter see she was still feeling sick.

Unfortunately, for her as she bit down her nose wrinkled up repulsively. "Are you sure you are okay, these are delicious."

There was no point trying to deny it any longer, she had but it off long enough.

"There is something else, Peter. I'm late."

"Late for what?"

"You know, late, late." Assumpta whispered.

"Oh. That late." Peter starred, his mouth wide open, "How many weeks are you late are by?"

"I don't know, five weeks or so." Her body tensed up as she folded her arms, in an embarrassed manner.

"And is that, very late?"

"I'm not as regular as some of the women I know, but yeah, for me that's a week or so late and I've been feeling sick for a few days, I put it down to exhaustion but now I think-"

"You think it could be more?"

She nodded, "Yeah."

"Is there any chance it could be mine?" Peter eventually asked, once he had triple checked dates.

"There isn't a chance it could be yours." Peter's face fell at this statement. "It is yours, that's if it is even an 'it'. Leo and I, since consummating our marriage back in Dublin; well let's just say, we haven't slept together since."

Peter was stunned at her revelation.

"Well say something!"

"Assumpta, I- you need to take a test."

"I know, I'll get one today from somewhere far away from here. I need to go and get some supplies anyway."

"Can I be here when you take it, please Assumpta, I have to know."

"Well, I guess you can be outside the bathroom," she sighed, who would have thought, she of all people would be worrying about a member of the clergy potentially knocking her up?

"Thank you," he smiled, taking her hands. "You know I will support you no matter what, however you want me, I will be here for the both of you."

"Steady on there, don't you think you are jumping the gun a little bit?" She said snatching her hands back.

"What about Leo, if you are, will you tell him?"

She shook her head: "No, what's the point, he will be back in the next couple of days, he can take his things and solicitors can sort out the divorce. I won't need to see him after that."

"If you are pregnant, do you think you will want to keep the baby?" He eventually asked.

"Oh, because you are anti abortion, is it? Can I just remind you father, that your morals went out of the window when you decided to sleep with the 'atheist' barmaid?!" She snapped.

"Assumpta, I didn't mean it like that, I was just asking what you wanted to do." He was hurt by her snap judgement, even if he didn't think too kindly to abortion; he knew he had to want what was best for her.

"Well, I might not be pregnant, so for all we know we might be worrying for nothing."

Before Peter had a chance to reply there was a feeble knock at the door, Assumpta looked at her watch, it was opening time exactly.

"I better open up, you stay there, we haven't finished yet," her eyes glistened as she kissed him on the cheek.

"Diet coke, Assumpta," Eamon Byrne said falling into the establishment. "And a word with father Clifford, if he's got a minute."

It was Ms Fitzgerald's turn to look bewildered.

"I can see him, pacing up and down your kitchen, I need a word with you father." The farmer called out.

Peter popped his head around the door and he and the landlady exchanged nervous glances.

"Father Clifford was just-"

"Just asking Assumpta for some fundraising ideas, I promised Brendan I would ask, they are trying to raise money to take some of the kids from the school on a trip to London."

"Oh," the only customer said, as the bartender handed him his drink.

"What is it Eamon?" The priest inquired.

"I was wondering if you would lead a few prayers for my sheep, they aren't looking too well again, and to tell you the truth father, I am worried."

"Of course I can Eamon, shall we do it after you have had your drink?"

"That would be wonderful, thank you father."

"Not at all, Eamon," he smiled."

Peter returned to Fitzgerald's bar later that day; his heart was in his mouth. He waited patiently outside the bathroom as she did the test.

Assumpta sighed with a heavy heart; she had secretly always wanted a family of her own, but not like this. She kept her eyes focused on the glittering white tiles as she waited to see what colour the line would turn.

"It's alright, false alarm," she called out with relief. Assumpta put the used test back in the box and discarded it in the bin.

Peter didn't reply, half of him was relieved that the mess he had got himself into wasn't about to be escalated but the other half of was heartbroken. Ever since he met Assumpta Fitzgerald he had fallen deeper for in love with her each day. He had even imagined giving up the clergy and making her his wife before they were surrounded by children. And now it seemed that was all it was ever going to be, a figment of his imagination.

"Maybe I really do have the flu or a bug of some kind," she said emerging from the bathroom.

"If you aren't pregnant you ought to see Doctor Ryan and find out what it is."

"I will, if it doesn't pass soon."

"What about us?" He finally inquired.

"Let's just get Leo out of the picture first."