On Sunday, everybody in Ballyk was glued to their TV’s to see The Cat race in Galway. Fitzgerald’s opened an hour earlier in
honour of the occasion, and anyone who was out and about arrived in there to catch the race. Vincent hurried over after 12
o’clock mass, making it just in time.

“Pull up a stool Father,” said Óonagh, back from her week away. “It’s just about to start.”

“Thanks Óonagh,” he said, fitting the stool into the only space available. “How was your week?”

“Oh, it was fine. I went to my mother’s place in Mullingar to see her. She gets a bit lonely now we’ve all left home. Oh, before
I forget Father, there’s a room free from Tuesday night, if you want it,” she said.

“I do indeed. I’ve imposed on Avril long enough. Book me in Óonagh,” he said. Fr. Mac will be pleased, he thought.

“Whist, whist, will yis! Isn’t it ‘bout to start an’ all der? I hope ya’ said a few prayers for her ‘n’ De Cat, der now Father!”
rambled Louis, in his usual manner. Vincent, not having a clue what was just said, opted for the easy way out.

“Em, yes!” he smiled, hoping that would cover it.

“Good man yersel’, whist now, der off!!!” shouted Louis. Vincent was already looking at the screen. He hoped, mostly for
Avril’s sake, that The Cat would do well. She didn’t have to win, just run a good race. The group were shouting from the start.
The Cat cleared the first four fences easily and was doing well, when Frankie ran in.

“Ah no!!! Is she still running? I missed it!” she exclaimed looking for a free spot, trying to see over the forest of heads in front of
her.

“Quick Frankie, over here!” said Vincent and pulled her in front of him. “Ohhh, watch out! Bloody hell!!” Another horse
swerved across The Cat’s path, but ran on out of the way. They all heaved a sigh of relief. The Cat cleared the next fence and
the next. They were really cheering her on now, as the riders turned down the home straight. The Cat was neck and neck with
the second horse and they were only a length behind the leader. All of a sudden The Cat took the last jump too early and the
unthinkable happened, horse and rider crashed out of the race bringing four other horses with her on the way down. The
stunned silence in Fitzgerald’s said it all.

“Well, Holy God!” said Louis.

“Oh no! What happened?” asked Frankie.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” replied Vincent. “She was doing so well but it looked like she took the last jump too early.
Look, they’re replaying it now.” They all turned their attention back to the screen and sure enough, it was plainly to see, The
Cat took the last jump far too early and threw her rider. The commentators said nobody was seriously hurt and all horses were
OK.

“Poor Avril,” said Óonagh. “I wonder what’ll happen now?”

“Nothing will happen!” said Paul. “Avril’ll bring the horse back here and she’ll live to run another race. I’m surprised she did as
well as she did without the goat. Just shows ya’ that that horse will be a real runner in time.”

“I suppose you’re right Paul,” said Vincent, “but it can’t be easy for Avril. She had a lot to prove with this race. Shame it
turned out this way.”

“God, you’d think the bloody horse died or something!” declared Paul. “Where did everyone go?” Vincent looked around and
saw there was only Louis, Frankie and himself left in the pub.

“Hummm - not good for business Paul? You open an hour earlier and already most the regulars are gone! You’ll just have to
wait for another race meeting,” said Vincent. “I’ll have another orange there, please Óonagh.”

“You and your orange,” snorted Paul, “try something a little stronger for once!”

“Hey, don’t take it out on me just because you can’t keep your customers!” said Vincent. “You should be happy I’m here at
all!”

“Whatever…” said Paul, as he went down to the cellar.

“Sorry about that Father, here’s your orange,” said Óonagh, passing him the drink. “He’ll be in better form later. Can I get you
anything Frankie? Louis, you all right there?”

“I’m fine Óonagh, I have to be off anyway” said Frankie, thinking about Vincent’s exchange with Paul. “Nice save,” she
thought, “if I didn’t know better I’d never suspect he was an alcoholic. Never.”

“Grand missus, grand,” mumbled Louis to Óonagh.

“OK then!” smiled Óonagh, as she made her way into the kitchen. Frankie gave Vincent a small smile.

“A bad race for Avril - when is she coming back?” she asked.

“Tonight, I think,” he replied. “Where are you off to now?”

“I’m going to see Sheelagh, see how she’s doing,” answered Frankie. “When Avril gets back tell her I was asking for her.”

“I will. Say hello to Sheelagh for me. I might pop in and see her on Tuesday, if she’s around,” said Vincent.

“All right. Bye Father, see you around. Bye Louis - stay away from that van today. You’ve had a skin-full already!” she
instructed.

“I will, I will, I will Guard! Sure, wouldn’t I not be drivin’ her on a Sunday in any case, at all, at all?” Vincent listened hard but
he still couldn’t understand a word the man said. Frankie, on the other hand, had no such problems.

“What’s it doing outside then? Did it drive here by itself? I’m warning you Louis. Leave it there.” With a nod to Vincent, she
was out the door.

“What does tha’ one be thinkin’ of, at all? Sure wouldn’t I be doing no one no harm except to mesel’, be driving it home? I
dunno Father, life be very hard ‘n’ cruel be times with the likes of her bossin’ the likes of me around,” sighed Louis.

“Em.. yes.”

Vincent finished his lunch while talking to Óonagh. Louis, thankfully, hadn’t said anything else since Frankie’s departure, much
to Vincent’s relief. He wondered why Frankie was formal again, was she trying to gain some distance from their conversation
last night? On second thoughts, knowing Frankie, she wouldn’t want anyone to know that she had a softer side. However they
may talk when they were alone, Frankie would not be the sort of person to carry that informality over into general conversation
where others would hear. She was just that way. Brendan, Siobhan and Avril for instance, called him Vincent all the time now
and joked about with him quite openly. It wouldn’t be Frankie’s style, he suspected. He’d have to remember that. He thanked
Óonagh for the lunch and reminded her about the room on Tuesday. Óonagh assured him that all would be ready and she
would make sure that Paul was is a better mood by then! Vincent waved his thanks and was about to say goodbye to Louis,
sleeping in his corner. “Why bother!” he mused, “I’ll only end up saying yes to whatever the man says!” With that he made his
way out and headed for his car parked in the church grounds. Fr. Mac would want to see him today, to report on the week’s
happenings. Just as he was getting into his car, his mobile rang.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Bloody horse!” came the reply.

“Ah, Avril. Need I ask how you are?”

“No, you needn’t. I’m coming home. I tried ringing the house but you weren’t there. Is Johnny about today?” she said,
sounding defeated.

“I don’t know. I left early this morning and I haven’t been back since. I suppose he’ll be in to look after Flash,” he replied.

“Are you going back there now?” she wondered.

“I wasn’t going to but if you need -”

“No, it’s OK, I just wanted Johnny to get The Cat’s stall ready. I suppose he will anyway. Sorry I didn’t call before now. How
is everything there?”

“Everything’s fine. People are sorry about the race. We couldn’t believe it!”

“You couldn’t believe it! I don’t know what went wrong,” she paused. “Right, well I don’t want to talk about this now. Nothing
else?”

“Stumpy showed up minus a bit of ear, he’s with Siobhan. And there’s some letters, including one registered one for you,” he
answered.

“Oh, I didn’t think he’d make his way back this time. What’s in the letter?”

“Avril, I didn’t open it!!” he said, surprised that she would think he would snoop.

“I was just wondering! Maybe you thought it was urgent or something. Never mind, I’ll get it later. It’s a long drive back but
I’m leaving within the next hour or two. I expect to be there around eight or nine,” she explained. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, see you then. Have a good trip.”

“I will, see ya’.” With that she hung up. Vincent put his phone away, thinking that she sounded very down. He’d get back to the
house as soon as he could and get dinner or something - or hide the evidence that he didn’t eat any of her weird and wonderful
inventions!

When Vincent arrived at Fr. Mac’s house, he saw one of the other curates leaving.

“Oho!!! You’re in trouble - you’re late!” called Angus.

“Yes, I realise that, mate!” he said tightly. “However, since I am the favourite around these parts, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Yeah, dream on, Vinny! See you next week,” answered Angus. He was an even-tempered young man from Donegal and was
doing well in a small parish near Ballyk called Ballinaclash. There were, at most, forty people living there and they were
scattered around the foothills of the mountains. Most of Angus’ time was taken up by driving up to one house, back again and
into the neighbours. The long tracks into each house made it difficult for anything without four wheel drive to get by. More than
once he was caught in some ditch and he had to be rescued by tractor.

“Bye Angus, don’t fall down any bog-holes this week!” called Vincent as Angus waved goodbye.

“Father Sheahan, if I’m not interrupting anything, perhaps you would be so good and to come inside,” came an irate voice from
the doorway.

“Just coming Father. How are you?” inquired Vincent as he made his way in.

“Hurmp!” answered Fr. Mac. “Have you found any where else to live yet?”

“As a matter of fact, I have. Fitzgerald’s has a room free from Tuesday, which I’ll take,” said Vincent. “I don’t know how-”

“It’s only marginally better, having my curate living in a pub. But it’ll do for now. How long will you be able to stay there?”
Father Mac looked at Vincent with a frown. He was fed up with this messing about and wanted Vincent in a place of his own
before the year got much older.

“As I was just about to say, I don’t know how long I can stay. I suppose we’ll worry about that bridge when we get to it?”
replied Vincent, in his most conciliatory voice.

“No Father, we’ll worry about it now, if you don’t mind! You need to be in Ballykissangel, so you can’t stay here but I can’t
have you roaming about the place-”

“Fr. Mac,” he interrupted, “I know that it’s a difficult situation. But until we find another house, there’s nothing we can do. I’ll
be fine, I just need you to trust me!”

“I’ve been asked to trust my curates in the past, Father. It didn’t work out too well, especially in Ballykissangel.” Fr. Mac
ushered Vincent into his office and gestured for him to take a seat. “You have to understand, I must look out for your best
interests as well as those of your parishioners. You may feel that you will never be tempted to break any of your vows, but you
can’t be sure what other people will do.”

“I’m not following you Father,” said Vincent, deciding that now would be the best time to force Fr. Mac to say what was on his
mind.

“Don’t be so obtuse! You know exactly what I mean. You may say that you are perfectly comfortable living with a single
woman and it may be so, for the moment. But you need to take *her* feelings into consideration also!”

“Avril Burke is in no danger from me, anymore that I am in danger from her! You know that!” said Vincent loudly.

“Don’t shout at me Father! I’m not just talking about Avril Burke. I could be talking about anyone. You need to have a certain
distance between yourself and the people in your parish. The Church in Ireland has taken a lot of hardship in these past few
years, as I’m sure you know. Some of it is warranted but some of it is not. We need to be careful and not to go looking for
trouble. I’m not against you here Father. I want to help you but it won’t work if you pull against me.”

“Fr. Mac, I understand what you’re saying, but you have to believe me when I say that I am happy here, for the first time in my
life maybe. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise that.”

“Vincent, I know you are and I’m glad. But sometimes, I get a feeling about you that something is not quite right. I don’t know
exactly what it is and I’m sure if I ask you now, you won’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve felt it before and I didn’t do
anything about it but I’m asking you now to come to me *first* if you have any sort of problem at all. I may not be who you
want to come to, but I am your parish priest and the person responsible for you while you are here. I’ve learnt from my
experiences not to force you to do something you don’t want to do, so I’ll try and help you in whatever way I can.”

Vincent was shocked at this speech. What exactly was he getting at? “Fr. Mac, emm, well I think I know what you mean. I
never told you, but between Brazil and coming here I-”

“I know.”

“How…?”

“Do you think I’d accept a priest as a curate without knowing everything about him? Give me some credit!”

“So, you always knew?”

“Of course I did Father! I was surprised, but if you were going to give yourself another chance, who was I to stop you? That
isn’t what I was referring to however. Whatever your problems in the past were, I hope you’ve found some comfort to be able
to deal with them now. The other problem, well, I don’t know what it is. Is it that you are much younger than I and see things
so differently that I’m uneasy? I don’t know. Whatever it is and if it arises I want to be the first person you call. Can you
promise me that?”

“Well, I don’t know what I’m promising here! But you can rest easy Father. If I get in some kind of trouble, I’ll speak to you
first,” promised Vincent. “Can I ask you a question?” Fr. Mac nodded.

“You keep talking about ‘the past’ and ‘before’. What exactly happened here? I know it had something to do with the woman
who ran the bar and the curate of the parish, but nobody wants to tell me what happened.”

“That’s because it’s a sad story and the people miss Assumpta and Peter greatly. It didn’t start out sadly but gradually over
time, Fr. Peter Clifford fell in love with Asumpta Fitzgerald. He denied it all along and when neither of them could take it
anymore, he told her. However, Asumpta had an accident in the bar while changing and old fuse and was electrocuted. She
died immediately and Fr. Clifford left the parish, devastated. I never heard from him again but I believe he’s still a priest. The
poor man. We didn’t get along too well, you know, but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” said Fr. Mac, recounting the
heartbreaking story.

“That’s awful! I understand now what you were talking about earlier.”

“There’s a lot more to it than what I just told you but that’s how it all ended. He was greatly loved in the parish. I thought he’d
find it difficult to begin with as he was English, but he just fitted right in. A bit like yourself, actually. Fr. Aidan O’Connell then
took over and he was there until the week before you arrived. He was moved to a parish in Limerick and is happy there, by all
accounts. So now Father, you have the recent clerical history of Ballyk, make of it what you will!” With that Fr. Mac stood up
from behind his desk and picked up a teacup, waving it in Vincent’s general direction.

“I’m fine thanks Father, I should be getting back anyway. Is there anything else?” asked Vincent.

“No, I think we’ve covered enough for today, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I would! Thanks for everything Father. I’ll see you during the week, OK?”

“Goodnight Father. I’m sure I’ll drop in to catch up some time. You’ll let yourself out?”

“I will, bye now!” replied Vincent as he left. He got into his car and drove off back to Avril’s place. He thought about his
conversation with Fr. Mac during the drive. “Well, this has been some week! First I have a soul-searching chat with Frankie
and then I get the same with him! Very strange indeed. I wonder what he meant by ‘not quite right’? How would he know if
something is ‘not quite right’ if I don’t know myself? Weird!” Vincent arrived back at the yard and parked his car. He left the
gate open for Avril, as Johnny had secured all four legged animals for the night. He spotted that The Cat’s stall was all ready
and waiting for its occupant. Flash was whinnying softly to himself and munching on some hay. It was a pleasant place to live in
he thought. In the early morning and in the evenings all was quite and peaceful. He would miss it when he left.

At half past ten, when Vincent was just finishing up, he saw Avril’s horse carrier pull into the yard and he went out to meet her.

“Hi Avril, welcome back! Can I give you a hand there?”

“Hi Vincent - Ow!!! God, I’m stiff from sitting in that thing for so long!” she hobbled around to the back of the van. “Grab that
other handle there and on three, let the back down. One, two, three!” The two of them lowered the back down to the ground
and Avril went in to unhitch The Cat. “Come on you! There’s a nice fresh bed for ya’ - poor thing - must be tired after that
journey. Comee on.” She gently coaxed the tired mare out and led her into her stall. Vincent leaned over the door to talk to
her.

“Did you have a good drive back?”

“It wasn't too bad really. Depressing that I didn’t return in a blaze of glory. She really misses the goat I think. I’ll have to think
of something for her,” said Avril brushing The Cat down. “So, Stumpy showed up did he?”

“Yeah, I came back late on Thursday night I think it was, and here was the poor old cat waiting to be let in. You see this scar?”
he held up his hand to demonstrate. Avril nodded her head. “Well, that’s what your beloved Stumpy did to me when I tried to
pick him up.” He gave her a hand to shut the stall door and they made their way inside.

“Awww, poor you - did the nasty cat give you a big ol’ scwape?” said Avril, in a baby voice.

“Yeah, laugh all you want at me. And all I did for that flamin’…..

“Now, now!! Watch the language!” she laughed. “Thanks for looking after Stumpy and the house. Did you find the food I left
for you?” Vincent decided to tell the truth.

“Yeah, it was exactly where you said, thanks!” It was the truth - he found it, he just didn’t eat it. “Do you want some grub
now?”

“ ‘Grub’ would be lovely. What do you have?”

“I just stocked up on whatever you normally buy from Kathleen. It must be useful to have her. You can never forget anything
on your shopping list!”

“She has her advantages! Oh, hand me that letter over there, would you?” Vincent unpinned the registered letter from the board
and gave it to her. Avril sliced it open with a knife that he had just put down on the table and read the contents. “What the…”

“What is it?” he asked, curious.

“I don’t believe it!!! Sod this!!!” Avril slammed the letter back on the table.

“What?”

“That bloody Frankie Sullivan and her stupid speed camera! It’s a feckin’ fine of a hundred quid, is what!! Christ Almighty!!”
Avril was livid and ranted at Vincent. “Can you believe it? Has she nothing better to do with her time that patrol back roads
from here to Cilldargan? And I have to - “present your license at your local Gárda station. Failure to do so will result in further
action” Further action! I’ll give her further action!”

“Hey, come on! Sit down and have this,” he said, giving her some of the weird concoctions she liked and tea. “Frankie was
only doing her job, she-”

“I might have known you’d defend her!” said Avril, definitely in no mood to hear anything about Frankie. “Where am I going to
get a hundred quid and just hand it over?”

“I’m not defending her!” he said, stung. “I’m just saying she has a job to do like the rest of us. One hundred pounds is a bit
steep though. How fast were you going?”

“Says here I was clocked at sixty-five in a thirty mile zone. There’s a photo too.”

“Sixty-five!”

“Don’t look so shocked! You had your own problems with the law too! It’s a straight road around the back of O’Brien’s field
near the entrance to Cilldargan. I can’t believe she caught me and I never saw her. Damn!”

“What are you going to do?” he asked, letting the comment about his drink-driving scare slide.

“What choice do I have? I’ll have to pay up and give in my license.”

“Give in your license!! Will they take it from you?”

“Oh no, they normally just enter it into a book and give you a stern talking too. Thankfully the penalty points system isn’t up and
running yet. I suppose that’s one good thing. Some Gardaí really have sod all to do with their time!” she said getting angry
again.

“Avril, it happened. For tonight, forget about it and eat up. Talk about the race or something, or maybe not,” he said, catching
her dark look. “Hey, I won’t be here after Tuesday. Óonagh says there’s a room free in the pub so I’m moving down there. I’ll
miss these little chats!”

“Shut up Vincent!” she said, smiling a little. “Thanks again for looking after the place. Saved me worrying about it. Hope you
manage living with the Dooleys!”

“It was no trouble, apart from Stumpy! I’m sure it’ll be fine in Fitzgerald’s - I hope. I can always move on again though, plus
the new houses should be starting soon.”

“Is Fr. Mac going to buy one?

“So he said but if anything else turns up first, we’ll go for that one.”

“You must have caught him on a good day!”

“Oh, I don’t know. He’s not so bad really. Just a bit old fashioned I reckon.”

“A bit old fashioned! I think that’s an understatement!”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got to work with him so I may as well get used to him,” he replied, not wanting to into any further detail. Avril
sensed there was more to it but she didn’t push. After all, it was not for her to worry about the inner workings of the Church.
She put her dishes away and yawned.

“I’m whacked. It’s been a long day, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I would! Well, goodnight Avril. Sorry about the fine.”

“Not as sorry as I am. I’ll just put this day down as one to forget. Goodnight Vincent. See you in the morning.”

“Yeah, see ya’!” he waved goodnight and went upstairs. Avril finished cleaning up and just as she was about to switch off the
light, she spied something on the counter.

“Vincent Sheahan, you cheat - do I see apple tart?”

The following Tuesday was move-out day for Vincent so Avril said she’d accompany him to Fitzgerald’s and go pay her fine
too. Vincent arrived around noon and Óonagh was there to welcome him.

“Welcome Father! Avril, nice to see you. I just have the room ready for you, Father. Would you like any lunch?”

“Ah, no thanks Óonagh, I had some before I left. I’ll just leave my stuff and head off.”

“OK then, you know the times for dinner but help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen if you get hungry before then,” she said
leading them up the stairs. “The kids will be home around three, so grab what you can! The TV is working in your room too. I
leave you to get settled in.” With that, she went back down to the bar.

“Not bad,” said Avril, looking around. “Where’ll I leave these books?”

“Oh, just dump them on that table there. I have to get a move on. Thanks for having me to stay Avril, it was great of you.”

“You can come back any time you know Vincent. I’ll miss having you around.”

“I’ll be dropping by as always! Remember to give me a call if you ever need me.”

“I will,” she said giving him a swift hug. “You’re a good man Charlie Brown! I’ll see ya’ around!”

“You’re not so bad yourself. Cheers Avril, thanks again!” He saw her out and started to unpack his bags. He was looking
forward to getting his own place, and this was as close as he’d come in the past few weeks. He was half finished when he
realised that he would be late for one o’clock mass so he headed down to the church. On his way he saw Avril’s jeep still
parked outside. “She must be over paying her fine,” he thought and continued on.

Meanwhile, things were not going as smoothly for Frankie and Avril.

“I want a word with you!” exclaimed Avril as she burst into the station, frightening the life out of Frankie who was reading her
paper.

“Christ, Avril!!! What’s wrong with you?” cried Frankie.

“Don’t play innocent with me Garda Sullivan. If you hand out hefty fines like this to your supposed friends, I’d hate to see what
you do to your enemies!”

“Avril-”

“It’s Ms. Burke actually”

“What!?!” exclaimed Frankie, totally bewildered.

“We are no longer on a first name basis. If you want to be officious then I can be too,” stormed Avril. “Here’s your blood
money and here’s my license. Post it back to me when you’re done.” With that final command, she marched out and slammed
the door behind her. Frankie sat back in her chair in utter amazement and picked up the documents Avril had flung down on the
ledge.

“What the hell is this all about?” she said to herself. She started to read the official fine notice and saw the details. “Oh for
crying out loud! Sixty-five!” She then realised that Avril thought she had caught her on speed camera. Avril didn’t know that
Cilldargan were randomly setting up speed traps around the area as the number of accidents due to speed were on the
increase. Even if she had been the one at the speed trap, she couldn’t just let it slide that Avril was doing sixty-five in a thirty
mile zone, friend or no friend. She didn’t think it was fair for Avril to behave this way towards her and she would tell her that.
Frankie entered the details into the record book and sent the fine on to the Dublin headquarters. Avril was supposed to do that
herself but if it didn’t go today, she would be late paying it so Frankie did her a favour. She didn’t feel like it, not after she was
shouted at, but there was no point in behaving like a child. So, she filled out the forms, stamped them to show that the fine was
received on time by a member of the Gardaí, and put it in the post. She then filled in Avril’s license number in her other book
and wondered should she just send it on as requested, or rather, ordered to do. Frankie decided not to. Avril would have to
come in to pick it up and Frankie could explain the situation to her. She felt sorry for Avril, as she knew money was tight, but
she did break the law and it was Frankie's job to reel in the law-breakers. She always felt bad when her job conflicted with her
own personal life.

When she first joined up she was accused by her then boyfriend of been unable to switch off and taking the job too seriously. Then there was the fiasco with Derek. Then there were the numerous times in Ballyk where she came across as too rigid with people that she would later meet in the pub. There was also the problem of being too friendly with the same people as Siobhan pointed out to her some time ago. She thought she had finally managed to reach a comfortable balance and now this happened. While she didn’t see Avril too often in Fitzgerald’s, she did consider her a friend. She hoped Avril could see beyond the uniform and remember that Frankie was a friend first.

This line of thought led her to Fr. Aidan and a conversation they had about that exact topic. Sometimes people saw the uniform and could never see the person, while others gradually came to see that there was a friend there too. She missed Aidan a lot and with a pang realised that she hadn’t contacted him in ages. When he told her he was leaving, well, she was gob smacked because it was so unexpected. Within two weeks, he was gone and she felt very lonely. Then Vincent arrived and at first, she was determined not to like him because he was replacing Aidan. However, after a very short time, she found that it was too hard not to like him! He was just that kind of man, totally different from Aidan but likeable all the same. She looked at a picture on her notice board that was taken last year at Niamh and Sean’s wedding. They were all so happy then, especially herself. This was a good place to be and even though old friends had moved away she felt very much at home here. Suddenly she stopped dreaming and gave herself a mental shake. She quickly busied herself with tidying up her desk and picking up the post for delivery. Trying to put past adventures out of her head wasn’t easy.

Avril was still hopping mad by the time she reached Siobhan’s surgery, so she took some time outside to cool down.

“Hi Avril! Are you looking for Siobhan?” inquired Brendan on his way in with Aisling.

“Oh, hi Brendan - didn’t see you there! Yeah, I’m just taking a breather. How’s Aisling?” she smiled at the little girl who turned
suddenly shy and buried her face in Brendan’s shoulder.

“She’s fine,” he said, laughing at Aisling. “Siobhan’s inside.” He ushered Avril in ahead of him, wondering why she looked so
flushed.

“Hi everyone!” said Siobhan, looking up from a bag of surgical instruments. “Oh Avril, good to see you, Stumpy is ready to go
home. Brendan, I’ll just be a minute,” she bent to give Aisling a kiss. “Hiya’ pet! Were you a good girl?”

“Uh huh, an’ Daddy boughted me a kite!” answered Aisling.

“Did he now? Well you can show it too me when I give Miss Burke back her sick cat. You wait there with Daddy.” Siobhan
went into the surgery followed by Avril. “Here he is!” she said, lifting Stumpy carefully out of his cage. “He has an infection in
that ear Avril, so you’ll have to keep him on these antibiotics until the end of the week. Otherwise, he’s fine.” She put the cat
gently into a carrier that Avril brought along. “Make sure you mash these in with his food,” she instructed handing Avril a box of
antibiotics.

“Thanks Siobhan. Will you send the bill on to me and I’ll settle it up with you?”

“Of course. Sure, leave it until I come out to the stables.” Siobhan knew Avril would pay her when she could.

“You’re a life-saver! Thanks for looking after this fella’! I was sure he wouldn’t return this time.”

“He’ll always make his way back Avril. Like any cat, he has nine lives and he hasn’t used up half of them yet! Do you
remember the time when he lost his cool in the front of Frankie’s car? I still laugh when I think about it!”

“Don’t talk to me about her! You won’t believe what happened this morning.”

“What happened? I thought you two were friends!”

“Huh, so did I! But Frankie slapped a hundred quid fine on me for speeding and recorded my licence.”

“No way!”

“Yeah, I was caught on the back road to Cilldargan last week.”

“Umm, Avril? Was there a photo with the fine?” inquired Siobhan.

“Yeah..” said Avril, warily.

“Then it wasn't Frankie who fined you. The boys from Cilldargan have these new fancy speed traps set up all over the place. I
saw them putting in the one on the back road. It’s an automatic fine of up to a hundred pounds and they send along the photo
as proof. Sure, you know Frankie only has the radar thing and you can spot her a mile away!”

“Oh, you’re not serious!?!” said Avril, immediately ashamed of herself. “I just let rip over there. I was so angry!”

“Well, I’d patch it up if I were you!” advised Siobhan. “I can’t believe she let you shout at her!”

“She didn’t have much of a choice. I kind of slammed in and slammed out. No wonder she hadn’t a clue what I was talking
about. Damn it.”

“Opps!” said Siobhan.

“Opps is right! I feel such an idiot! What must she think of me?”

“Knowing Frankie, she probably doesn’t think a whole lot of you right now. If I were you, I’d apologise soon, you don’t want
to let something like that go on.”

“I know, you’re right. It’s just-”

“Avril, get over it. Swallow your pride and say sorry. Why loose a friend over something like this?” advised Siobhan.

“I’m going!” said Avril with a smile. “Brendan’s not the only teacher around here, is he?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Siobhan, deadpan. She spotted Stumpy sitting in his cat carrier on the desk and called
after Avril. “Hey, don’t forget the cat!” Avril did a double take and reached back to pick up the carrier.

“Thanks Siobhan - for everything. I’ll talk to you during the week.”

“See ya’ Avril. Bye Stumpy, see you again I’m sure!”

“Meeowwww”

Avril walked back through the village to the Garda station with Stumpy in tow. Before going in she ran across the road and
loaded him into the back of her jeep. She hovered outside the door of the station, fist poised to knock, or should she just walk
in? Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and walked up to the hatch. She looked into Frankie’s office but there was on
sign of her.

“Back for round two, is it?” came a voice from behind her. Frankie stood there with a cup of coffee in her hand and a scowl on
her face. Avril turned around.

“No, not round two, I’m here to apologise.”

“I see.”

“Frankie… I behaved like an idiot. Sorry. I realise it wasn't you who fined me and-”

“Avril wait,” she said, putting her coffee down on the desk. “It doesn’t matter that I wasn't the one who caught you speeding,
you still were! You broke the law and sixty-five miles an hour isn’t a minor thing you know. Even if I did catch you, I would’ve
had to fine you. I can’t let people away with things just because they’re my friends. I thought you would’ve understood that.”

“I do Frankie, really. It’s just- money is short at the moment and the last thing I needed was a big fine like that. I do apologise
and I do consider you a friend. I hope I haven’t ruined it.” Frankie gave a small smile and thought about her answer.

“No, nothing’s ruined. But you need to know that something like this could happen again. If that’s going to be a problem then-”

“It’s not going to be a problem,” assured Avril. “If I had taken Vincent’s advice and realised you had a job to do, instead of
jumping up and down, I wouldn’t have behaved like a fool and insulted you. He tried to tell me but I was determined to rant
and rave. To get something for my money, I suppose.”

“Right, well, say no more about it. Next time, listen to Fr. Sheahan. Here’s your license back, which you were supposed to
wait for, and by the way, you were supposed to send that fine to Dublin yourself.”

“Oh, I’ll do it n-”

“I already sent it on.” Avril’s face reddened and she felt even worse as Frankie had done her a favour on top of what had
happened.

“I really feel so stupid right now and once again I am really sorry. It won’t happen again,” she said, embarrassed.

“OK Avril, we’ll leave it at that! At least we cleared the air.” Frankie still wasn’t thrilled and her tone was a bit frosty. Avril
heard the clipped sound to her speech but decided not to push her luck. Frankie would simmer down eventually, now that she
had an apology.

“At least that! Bye Frankie, I’ll see you around. I’ve got to get Stumpy home - I’ve just picked him up from Siobhan.”

“Cheers Avril. Keep that cat away from me!!”

The two of them parted on civil terms and Avril drove back home. Frankie had documents to fill out so she continued working
in her office and thought about what happened. She figured it was typical Avril to behave that way. Avril was known to be a
kind of “act first, think later” person, but her genuine remorse over any wrongdoing was plain to see. Frankie didn’t like fights
at all. She was amazed at how some people could carry on with their lives after having a big falling out with another person. A
simple argument would remain on her mind until everything was straightened out.

In a way, it’s what made her a good Garda. If something wasn’t right, she kept looking for answers until she got them. The
downside was that she did find it hard to switch off. If there was a case she was involved with, it took up her attention. She
remembered the time she was with CAB, that case has consumed her every waking hour and most of her sleeping ones too. As
she was undercover, she had to act a part and her dreams became a muddled mess of her real life and her fake one. The day
her cover was blown was one of the worst in her life. Drug dealers were so paranoid that anyone new to the field was
thoroughly checked out and Frankie wasn’t as careful as she should have been. She didn’t know how long they were on to her
and feeding her false information, but it must have been some time. It was how they flushed out police informers, give them
enough information and they’ll hang themselves.

She still had flashbacks of the gun pointed straight at her head and a bang as Derek fired first. It was so far removed from her
current life that it seemed like it was one of her dreams. Here she was, in a small, rural village so safe from everything. What did
she really have to worry about? A few poached salmon from the salmon farm, illegal parking, the odd ‘miracle worker’, a ghost
here and there, petty theft - it was idyllic really. She wasn’t going to complain, she loved it here. The dark, murky criminal
underworld of Dublin was welcome to stay where it was.

She knew that her transfer request from Dublin was looked upon with great favour. A mistake in that line of work was usually
fatal so she was shipped out as quickly as the machinations of the Garda Síochána would allow. Cork didn’t suit as it too was a
city, but when a small village needed a Garda, it was perfect. Here she was safe and given enough time the whole incident
would be forgotten in Dublin. By all accounts, that had already happened but they still needed to one hundred percent certain.
Frankie had dyed her hair blond when undercover and it was much longer, almost to her waist. She had worn contacts to
change the colour of her eyes and spoke with a Northern accent. When she escaped that night, the first thing she did when she
got home was dye her hair back to black and cut it to shoulder length. She looked so different now to the sassy taking blond
girl from Belfast that you couldn’t associate the two.

This was something that she wanted to keep to herself, it was better for everyone that they didn’t know about it. Only five
people, herself included, knew about her undercover operation and that was the way she wanted it to stay. Her Inspector at the
time encouraged her to tell someone she trusted, as it would help should she ever need to talk about it. Frankie was resolute
though; she didn’t want anybody, especially her family, to have that extra worry. She knew Inspector Malone was right, it was
a big thing to keep to herself, but he understood and told Frankie to contact him immediately if she ever felt in danger. He
assured her that the case would remain a sealed investigation until the last member of the gang was rounded up. He reminded
her that as far as that guy knew, Frankie had been an informer not an actual member of the Gardaí which was something to be
thankful for. She wanted to tell Vincent about it the other night and had come very close it. However, she stopped herself from
talking because she didn't want him to worry either.

What she wanted most was to receive a phone call from Malone telling her the last gang member was either dead or in custody.
She supposed then that she would be called back to Dublin, maybe finally becoming a sergeant. She suspected that if she
wanted, she could stay here. They wouldn’t force her to back if she didn’t want to, but the likelihood of her becoming sergeant
would be greatly diminished. She knew the choice would be hers to make should it ever arise.

Frankie continued to ponder her future, thinking about what she would do and where she would go. Suddenly, she realised that
she’d been staring at the wall for the better part of an hour for the second time today!

“What the hell is wrong with me?” she cried out.

“Where do I start?” came the reply. Frankie covered up her fright as much as possible. It wouldn't do to be startled out of her
wits again.

“Do you think that’s funny Brendan?”

“I’m not laughing Frankie!” he said. “I was just wondering when you were going to stop talking to yourself and staring at the
wall?”

“Oh, you’re such a comedian. You totally missed your calling,” she said icily. “What can I do for you? And how did you get in
here so quietly?”

“The door was open, I just walked on in,” he explained. “I need you to sign these passport photos for Siobhan.” He passed
them across to her.

“She’s supposed to give them to me in person.”

“Don’t start! She probably would have, but she’s up to her elbows-”

“I don’t want to know what she’s up to her elbows in, thanks. I suspect it’s something disgusting. Where’s the passport
application form?”

“What?”

“She would’ve had a form with all her details on it. I need to stamp and sign it too.”

“Oh damn! I didn’t bring it. Hold on, I’ll be back, it’s in the car,” he said as he made his way out. “You carry on with whatever
it was you were doing - sorry if I interrupted anyone!”

“Get lost!” Frankie was smiling now. She was grateful to Brendan for snapping her out of her melancholy thoughts. She finished
filling out her documents and was just about to file them when Brendan arrived back with Aisling.

“There you go Frankie,” he said as he handed over the form. “Say hello to Garda Sullivan, Aisling.”

“Hewo, Gwada Suwifan” stumbled Aisling, the finer points of Frankie’s title escaping her.

“Hello Aisling. What are you doing today?”

“I flied my new kite. Whats are you doin’?” she inquired, wondering what the banging sound was.

“I’m putting a stamp on your Mammy’s form so she can go on a holiday,” answered Frankie, amused at Aisling’s
precociousness.

“Can I have one?” Aisling was taken with the purple ink and the Garda crest on the form. “It’s pwetty.”

“Garda Sullivan will give you one stamp if you ask nicely,” said Brendan. Frankie who was reaching for the stamp already,
waited for Aisling. Brendan and Siobhan were currently trying to teach Aisling the importance of “please” and “thank you”.

“Pwease can I have a stump sank you,” said Aisling in one breath.

“Of course you can,” said Frankie, stamping a bit of paper. She put Siobhan’s form and photographs in an envelope and
handed the lot to Aisling. “Now, there’s your form and there’s the one for your Mammy.”

“Ohhh, sank you,” squealed Aisling, delighted with herself. Frankie laughed and looked at Brendan.

“She’s a clever girl Brendan! Remind Siobhan to post those through the post office. They have that passport express thing now
so you don’t have to go into Wicklow.”

“I will Frankie, thanks for all that. Bye now.”

“Bye Brendan, bye Aisling.”

“Byebye Gwada Snuffalin!” she called, still not quite getting it and wondering why her Daddy was laughing.

Meanwhile, Vincent was out and about visiting parishioners. One of his last visits of the day was to see Frankie’s aunt,
Sheelagh. He pulled up to the house and got out of his car. He noticed that the front door was left ajar, so he knocked and
called out to her.

“Hello! Anyone home?”

“Hello Father!” floated Sheelagh’s voice from the kitchen. “Come on in. I’ve just put the kettle on.”

“G’day Sheelagh, how’s it goin’?”

“Does that never get old?” she smiled at him.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“You know full well ‘what’! The whole Sheila / Sheelagh thing!”

“Ahhh - I see you’ve been studying your Australian,” said Vincent, his joke rumbled.

“Not really, but Crocodile Dundee was one of my favourite films in the 80’s. He calls the girl from the city a Sheila.”

“Oh God! Please don’t tell me you judge Australians on a Crocodile Dundee scale!”

“Well, not Australian women, only the men!!”

“I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t resist - where do I rank?”

“I couldn’t possibly say, well at least not until you pull out a machete on some flick-knife waving street hooligan and say ‘That’s
not a knife… now that’s a knife!’ Then I’ll be able to tell you.” Vincent laughed with her at the mental image.

“Just where am I going to find one of them in Ballyk?”

“The machete or the hooligan?”

“Both - I think!”

“Well, until you do Father, you won’t rate on the scale. Sorry.”

“I’ll just have to wait it out. Thanks,” he said, accepting the mug of tea from her.

“Pull up a chair Father and sit down,” she said wheeling herself around to the table. “I hear you’ve moved on from Avril’s
house?”

“Yeah, I moved into Fitzgerald’s today. Makes a bit of a change.”

“It’ll be good to be a bit nearer St. Joseph’s, won’t it?”

“Sure will, I didn’t realise how handy it was until I couldn’t walk to work, so to speak. Anyway, if no properties become
available in the meantime, Frankie said I can have her spare room, should things not work out in Fitzgerald’s.”

“In Frankie’s place? Listen, if you find her secret stash of cigarettes you have my permission, as her Godmother, to destroy
them!”

“Oh, she’s quit smoking now. Just a momentary lapse.”

“A momentary lapse! And she had the nerve to lecture me on smoking can-” Sheelagh suddenly stopped.

“Hummm, I wonder if this has something to do with a certain Garda dropping charges against Doc Ryan? - Don’t say anymore
Sheelagh,” he interrupted her before she could speak. “You don’t have to explain yourself or Frankie. I can put two and two
together!”

“I was using it for medicinal purposes,” said Sheelagh, explaining anyway. “But do you think I could tell her that? Sometimes, I
don’t know where my niece starts and the Garda ends!”

“You do know! Frankie thinks the world of you and you know it. When it came down to it, she looked the other way.”

“I suppose she did, but she was very reserved when she came here on Sunday. I wasn't sure how to react. She was still in her
uniform so I didn’t want to mention the whole thing again. But I know there’s something she’s not telling me. I always could see
right through her.” Sheelagh was genuinely worried about her favourite niece and was hoping that Vincent could shed some light
as to what was going on. Vincent, true to his word, wasn’t going tell Sheelagh what Frankie had told him in confidence,
however he wanted to put the woman at ease.

“If you think that Frankie is keeping something from you, you should ask her straight out. I presume she’d tell you if she could.
She was in good form when I spoke to her though.”

“I just worry about her. I know she’s well able to take care of herself but I can’t help seeing the little girl who first learned to tie
her shoes in my kitchen and who played down near the river building traps for worms and snails.”

“Yucchh! What did she do that for?”

“She needed bait to go fishing with her brothers and they wouldn’t share theirs, so Frankie used to spend ages thinking up more
and more elaborate plans to catch her own. I think she preferred that to the actual fishing! It all seems so long ago now.”
Sheelagh paused here, thinking about bygone days. “I was delighted when she was transferred here as I’d only moved in about
a year before that but I wasn’t prepared for the tough Garda that she’d become. I always thought she’d marry and have loads
of kids, doing the whole school run thing and loving every minute of it.”

“She still can!”

“You know what I mean! The Frankie you see today is so different from the sunshiny little girl, you could hardly reconcile the
two. I think something happened to her in Dublin that knocked all the softness out of her. I wish I knew what it was, so I could
help her.”

“Oh, hey, I think you’re overstating things a bit! Frankie isn’t all hard and snappy. She has to be tough sometimes, but I’ve
seen her relax and enjoy herself too. Maybe something did happen, but I don’t think it’s crushed her totally. She’s shown
herself to be a good friend first and a great Garda second, plus she’s fun to be with when she’s relaxed. You should be proud
of her.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I am proud, very proud of her, in fact. All I know is that Frankie changed very suddenly and if something
is bothering her, I want to help her. I don’t want any upset or problems in her life-”

“I think Frankie is a very lucky person. I bet you were the ‘cool aunt’ who she went to for all sorts of advice when she was
growing up. That’s something that you two will always have and will continue to have.”

“I hope so! I didn’t live too far away from them when I was in Dublin so I was around when they were all growing up. I
remember one time when Frankie ‘ran away’ from home because her father, Charlie, wouldn’t let her go to the shops on her
own. She was determined to show how she could look after herself by making it all the way to my flat. I came home from work
and there she was, sitting on the steps with a shopping bag packed with pyjamas, two left shoes, her favourite doll and some
chocolate biscuits. I felt so sorry for the little mite, who waited for at least three hours for me, not realising that she’d scared the
life out of her mother and father. I never saw two more grateful people when they picked her up that night. She was just four
years old and she made her way through a housing estate, past the afore mentioned shops, across a main road and into a block
of flats. Actually, come to think of it, I’m not surprised she’s a fearless Garda!”

“You see! It was always there, she’s just put her energy into recovering lost children instead of being one!”

“Oh, Frankie wasn’t lost. She knew exactly where she was, as she pointed out to Charlie who wouldn’t let her out of his sight.
‘But Daddy, I wasn’t missing, I was waiting on Auntie Sheelagh!’ Poor Charlie, there was no arguing with her, although she
wasn't allowed out to play where her mother couldn’t see her for at least a week. A terrible sentence to Miss Adventure!”

“I can just imagine! Hey, don’t worry too much. Frankie will be fine and if she was genuinely in trouble, I’m sure she’d come to
you.”

“Sometimes I think that she’s keeping me in the dark because I have M.S.”

“Even if she did, you have to accept that she doesn’t want you to worry about her too much. She’s an adult now and it has to
be hard for you to see her that way. But you must admit, that it’d be pretty strange of she still came running to you with every
problem in her life.”

“I suppose you’re right, as usual! I’ll see her tomorrow and make sure she’s okay. It can’t hurt to ask!”

“Good! Well, I’ve got to be off. Thanks for the tea Sheelagh. I’ll see you next week.”

“Goodbye Father! Thanks for dropping by. We had a good chat!”

“Indeed we did. G’day Sheelagh!” He couldn’t resist.

“Out you!” she laughed as she saw him to the door and then, thinking about the conversation, she decided not to wait until
tomorrow to hear from Frankie so she picked up the phone to see if her niece wanted a late supper.

Vincent just made it back to Fitzgerald’s as Óonagh was dishing out dinner.

“Oh great! You made it. Sit down Father.”

“Thanks Óonagh. Evening Paul.”

“Evening Vincent. Busy day?”

“No more so than usual. Where are the kids?”

“I just called them! DERMOT!!! GRÁINNE!!!” shouted Paul.

“We’re here!! We were just finishing a computer game,” said Gráinne, smiling at Vincent.

“Oh deadly! You’re here Father Vin!” said Dermot. “I taped the Aussie Rules matches for you off TG4.”

“Excellent! I haven’t seen real football in ages! Thanks Dermot!” he paused for a moment. “Did you say I’m deadly?”

“Noo, he meant ‘deadly’ as in ‘great’,” explained Gráinne.

“Ahhh, I see! I’ll have to brush up on the local slang!”

“What do you mean - real football?” said Dermot, suddenly realising his beloved Manchester United might just have been
insulted.

“Aussie Rules is the real deal mate, not that wimpy soccer!”

“What you need to see Vincent,” said Paul, “is a good Gaelic Football match. Last year a fella’ on the Dublin team kept on
playing even though he broke a bone in his foot. And in the Hurling, the Kilkenny captain played in the All Ireland Final with a
broken rib! The whole match!” Óonagh and Gráinne rolled their eyes, as the three boys debated over which of the three
football games was the toughest. Having a third one added to the usual soccer versus Gaelic question and taking a separate
side totally, was not the best for dinner conversation. However, following the old saying that if you can’t beat them, join them,
Gráinne chipped in.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Rugby football is the best of the lot!”

Óonagh hung her head in despair; her old reliable ally had just jumped ship. The conversation continued long after dinner was
over and once the kids had cleared the table, Vincent was dragged off by Dermot to watch and explain Aussie Rules. Gráinne
had a letter to write so she headed for the solitude of her room. Óonagh and Paul headed into the bar to look after their
customers. The regulars were there and currently Siobhan and Brendan were trying to get a game of poker started. It had
begun to rain heavily about an hour ago, so nobody was too keen to leave. Dónal and Liam rushed through the door, slamming
in behind them.

“Jays, that’s a rotten night!” exclaimed Liam.

“Indeed it is lads! What are ye’ havin’?” asked Paul.

“The usual Paul, thanks,” said Dónal. “I hear you’ve a new house guest. You’ll have to watch yourself now, what with the boss
around! Where is he anyway?”

“He’s explaining the finer points of Australian Rules Football to Dermot. And he’s just the owner, I’m the boss - just so you
know!” said Paul. “Errr, I mean, she’s the boss!” he said hurriedly, catching Óonagh’s glare. Liam made a ‘whhtshhhh’ sound,
miming a whip.

“Shut up you!” said Paul. “Here’s your pint, and yours Dónal.” Before he could say any more Edso arrived, soaked to the skin.

“Brrrrr, I hope youse have lit the fire! Pint please, Paul!”

“Howrya’ Edso! What’s the story?” said Liam, hoping for some news.

“Same old, same old, Liam. Nothing strange,” said Edso, giving nothing away to his rival. “Hey Brendan, are you using your
fishing gear at the weekend?”

“No, I wasn’t planning to. Why? Do you want it?” asked Brendan.

“Yeah, I see Vartry reservoir is open again, loads of good fish in it.”

“You’re not supposed to fish there, you eejit! Those fish belong to the waterworks people!” exclaimed Siobhan. “It was closed
for a reason. To let the fish grow a bit.”

“How do you know that no-one’s allowed to fish there?” said Edso, shaking out his wet jacket.

“Edso, are you thick or what? There’s big ‘No Fishing’ signs all over the place! How did you miss them?”

“Oh them! I didn’t think they were serious, maybe it’s just for the tourists or something.”

“You really are thick! No, it’s not just for the tourists - it’s for everyone. You leave them fish alone and go somewhere legal for
a change!”

“Where?”

“Oh my God!! I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. A - you live beside a river and B - you’re within two miles of a
lake. You have a think about it and tell me where you could go fishing.”

“I know all that -  I meant where would I get the same kind of fish like up at Vartry?”

“You won’t know unless you look, will you? By the way, stay away from the salmon farm. You can be arrested for fishing
there too.”

“I’m sure Frankie has better things to do with her time than-”

“Ahhh, go ‘way from me! If you’re determined to illegally fish, then there’s nothing more to say. Honestly!!!!” Siobhan turned
back to her poker game, ignoring the smile on Edso’s face. There was nothing he enjoyed more than teasing people. He had no
intention of salmon fishing. He just said it to see what kind of reaction Siobhan would have, predicting that it would annoy her.
His purpose achieved, he turned around to the bar and started chatting with Dónal.

“Siobhan, phone call for you!” called Óonagh. Siobhan reached over the bar and picked up the extension phone. She looked
worried by the time she hung up. Brendan immediately knew something was wrong with Aisling.

“Is it Aisling?” he asked.

“Yeah, that was the babysitter. Aisling is hot, crying and won’t settle down. I think we’d better go. She was trying my mobile,
but there’s no service - must be the storm. Come on.” Siobhan gathered up the cards and handed them to Paul. “Hang on to
those for us, see ya’ tomorrow.”

“Bye Siobhan, bye Brendan. Hope Aisling is okay,” said Paul, putting the cards under the bar.

“She was fine today,” said Brendan, handing Siobhan her coat. “I wonder what’s wrong?”

“Probably just one of those childhood things,” said Óonagh. “She’ll be fine by tomorrow, wait and see.”

“Bye all!” called Siobhan, nodding her thanks to Óonagh. They made their way to her jeep and headed for home. As soon as
they arrived, Brendan was out of the jeep even before Siobhan had switched off the engine. He went inside and went upstairs
to see Aisling. The little girl was crying fretfully in her cot, her blankets pushed out of the way. As soon as she saw Brendan,
she reached out for him, sobbing. He picked her up and carried her downstairs to Siobhan. Siobhan checked her over, took
her temperature and looked for any telltale rashes. She shrugged her shoulders at Brendan when there was nothing unusual to
report.

“Mary?” she asked the babysitter, “When did she start crying?”

“I don’t know Siobhan. She seemed quiet and I went upstairs at ten, just to check on her. She was already crying quietly in her
cot so I tried to calm her down. Nothing worked and she kept asking for you and Brendan, so I just decided the best thing to
do would be to give you a ring.”

“Well, she seems fine now, thanks for ringing us, you did the right thing. Brendan will give you a lift home. There’s no way
we’re letting you cycle home on a night like this. I’ll drop the bike over tomorrow.” Brendan headed out to the car and Mary
followed him. Siobhan, seeing that Aisling was quieter, asked her what was wrong.

“I don’t want you to go away!” sniffed Aisling. “I wants you an’ Daddy to stay with me!”

“Why Sweetheart! We’re not going anywhere! Why did you think that?”

“’Cause I seed Gwada Snuffalin stumpin’ your paper so you could go ‘way!” she wailed. “And then I waked up an’ you was
gone and only Mawy was lefted with me!” Suddenly the whole thing clicked with Siobhan.

“Oh Aisling! Garda Sullivan only stamped a form for me so I could go on a holiday if I wanted too. Of course I’d be taking you
with me!” She hugged Aisling tightly. “You see, when people go on holidays they have a little book with them called a
passport,” Siobhan paused here, trying to think of an easy way to explain the situation to her. “This passport will tell other
Gardaí in other countries that I am an Irish person. The one I have now doesn’t have your name written on it, so I needed to
get a new one. That way, you can come with me and your name will be written beside mine. Your Daddy already got his new
passport but I forgot to do mine. Do you understand now?”

“So you isn’t going away now?”

“Nooo, we might go on holidays when all the little baby animals are born and Mammy has some free time. Would you like
that?”

“Will Daddy be coming too?”

“We will ask him when the time comes and I’m sure he’ll try to come as long as he doesn’t have to teach in the school.” This
answer seemed to satisfy Aisling much to Siobhan’s relief. She didn’t want to answer for Brendan and she didn’t want to get
Aisling’s hopes up. “So, will you go back to bed now?”

“Uh huh!” nodded Aisling. “Buts I had too many blankies and I was too hots.”

“Okay, well I’ll take some of them away and get you all snugly again. Come on pet!” Siobhan now realised why Aisling woke
up. As it was such a bad night she was afraid Aisling would be cold so she put on an extra blanket over her on her way out.
She tucked Aisling back into bed and was downstairs by the time Brendan arrived back.

“How is she?” he asked as he came in.

“She was just upset. She thought we’d gone away and left her!”

“Huh?”

“She thought that when Frankie stamped the passport form earlier that I left tonight, leaving her with Mary!”

“Ah no! She seemed fine earlier, Frankie even stamped a piece of paper for her!”

“I know! She stuck in up on the fridge when you brought her back. Don’t worry about it Brendan. She was too hot, woke up,
called for me and got no answer. You can imagine then that she probably lay there thinking all sorts of things and got herself all
worked up! Amazing the way kid’s minds work!”

“Yeah! Well, I’m glad she’s okay. I won’t disturb her now. Give her a kiss for me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“She was wondering if you’d come on holidays with us?” asked Siobhan, deciding to just go for it. Brendan looked at her
warily.

“She was wondering or you were?”

“A bit of both.”

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t know.”

“When?”

“New year, maybe.”

“Do ya’ want me to?”

“It’d be nice.”

“Okay then.”

“Grand.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“Sure. Night now.”

“Night.” With that, he was out the door and on his way home. He smiled to himself, Siobhan was gradually becoming used to
having him around, which suited him just fine.