A few weeks later Siobhan was called out to the yard by Avril. She arrived promptly and looked for Avril in the stables.

“Avril! Hello! Where are you?” she called.

“She’s out in the field,” answered Johnny, the stableman, peering out from one of the stalls.

“Which field?”

“The training one,” he replied. “Best take the jeep, it’s a bit mucky”

“Thanks Johnny.” She got into her jeep and drove back out the lane a bit. She finally saw Avril in the field with a horse on a
tether. She opened the gate and drove the jeep in thanking Johnny as the field was turning into a quagmire. She stopped the
jeep and got out.

“Siobhan! Thank God you’re here!” said Avril, worried.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s this horse I’ve been training for a friend. I think he’s got colic. He keeps trying to lie down and I can’t get him out of the
field. We spent all morning trying to get him into the horsebox. What am I going to do?” Avril was near frantic. A horse with
colic was a dangerous thing. If he lay down, he might not get up again.

“Let me have a look.” Siobhan approached the animal and after a few minutes confirmed Avril’s diagnosis. “It’s colic. We have
to get him out of this field. It’s going to start raining any minute.”

“I’ll call Johnny,” said Avril, whipping out her mobile. “Johnny, get the box back here. We’ve got to get Flash inside. I know,
we’ll have to try again.” She hung up and looked at Siobhan. “Did I call you early enough?”

“I hope so Avril. When did you notice he was sick?”

“After about the twelfth attempt to load him into the box. It just wasn’t normal reluctance. I knew it had to be something else. Is
it bad?”

“I can’t tell. I don’t think so. I think we might be able to do something.” Johnny arrived with the box as the first drops of rain
began to fall.

“All secure in the yard Avril. We’re ready for this fella,” he said.

“Thanks Johnny. How do you want to do this Siobhan?” Avril was looking at Siobhan’s concerned face.

“Give me the rope,” she said. She took firm hold and marched determinately towards the box. Flash resisted and the rope
pulled taut but Siobhan paid no heed. “Come on Flash. In you go.” She pulled again and thunder rumbled overhead. They had
to get him out of the field, now. Flash was startled by the noise and Siobhan was able to pull him a little further. As the rain
began to fall in big heavy drops, he reared up and almost pulled Siobhan off her feet. She spent enough time around horses to
know better than to hang on so she let go. The sky was turning blacker and blacker and the thunder was getting louder. Flash
was in obvious pain now and didn’t want anyone near him.

“Forget this!” said Siobhan. “Johnny, move the van out of the way.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Avril.

“I’m going to walk him. I hope he won’t mire down near the gate, but it’s the only way. Stay back Avril - in fact take my jeep
down to the yard. Johnny, you follow her and have the big shed ready for me. I’ll bring him along.” Siobhan made a grab for
the rope again and caught it. Avril didn’t want to leave her in case the horse jumped, but Siobhan was resolute. “He’s too
nervous now. One person is all he can manage. Go - I’ll be OK.” So, the two vehicles left Siobhan and Flash alone in the field.
Siobhan started to walk the horse gently in a circle. Amazingly, he seemed to understand that she was here to help and he
became less agitated. The thunder was bothering him, but as long as the lightning held off, Siobhan thought she might have a
chance. She guided the horse across to the gate, sinking to her ankles in mud. Flash was sinking too, but again, he followed
Siobhan through the gate without slipping. Siobhan heaved a sigh of relief as they made it too the road. She continued walking
slowly with him, both of them getting soaked. After about half an hour, she made it to the yard gates and led the horse in. Avril
went to take the rope but Siobhan waved her away. “Bring some horse blankets to put over him and get some washing gear to
clean him up a bit. Johnny, is the shed ready?”

“It is Siobhan. Over here,” he beckoned them over. They entered the shed which was big enough to walk the worse around in
circles.

“OK, we can’t let him lie down, so we’re going to have to make him comfortable on the hoof. Avril, start drying him off, but no
sudden movements”. They worked together, and eventually got him dry and clean but the horse was getting worse. They kept
going, with Siobhan directing their movements until she finally admitted that they had to operate or the horse would die. The
colic was not letting up and this was the last option. Siobhan scrubbed up and was soon ready. She had put in a call to the
Cilldargan vet to come and assist her and Gerry was on the scene just as Siobhan was preparing the horse.

“Good timing Gerry!” she said. “Are you ready?”

“Almost. Hi Avril. Do you want to stay for this?” he said.

“Ummm, will you need me to hold anything?”

“Avril, I already told you no. Really, don’t stay - this can get messy,” said Siobhan. Avril needed no further encouragement and
with a final pat to Flash, she left the shed. Siobhan and Gerry started the operation but within a very short space of time, they
knew it was no good. The intestine was twisted too badly and the horse would only suffer. They stitched him back up and
waited. Siobhan listened to his heartbeat growing fainter and fainter until it eventually stopped. She looked up at Gerry and
shook her head.

“Do you want me to wait until you tell her?” he asked.

“It might be a good idea,” she said. “Come on, we best get it over with.” They made their way over to the kitchen where Avril
was sitting with a cold mug of tea.

“You don’t have to say it,” she said sorrowfully. “I know he’s dead.”

“We’re sorry Avril, but it was too bad. He’d only have suffered. There was nothing we could do.” Siobhan sat down beside
her. “Gerry will take the body, if that’s what you want.”

“I can’t say. I’ll have to call Michael, as he’s the owner. Will you wait?” she asked as she got up to phone.

“I’ll wait,” said Gerry. They heard her tell the sad news to Flash’s owner and within ten minutes, she was back.

“He said Flash’s mother went the same way. He’s coming down tomorrow and will take the body himself. Thanks for coming
out Gerry.”

“Not at all Avril. Sorry we didn’t have a happy result. Siobhan, I’ll phone you tomorrow. Bye all.” With that, he left and the
two women sat and stared at the table.

“It’s too bad Avril.”

“This is not my year Siobhan. The Cat hasn’t regained form since Daddy G died. She’s friendly with Lizarazu but that
connection is gone. Money is a big problem and now this. What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know. What can you do? There must be something?”

“I owe more than I can earn. I think I’ll have to face facts. Close the place down.”

“It won’t come to that Avril. You’ll find a way.”

“I hope you’re right. At the moment, things look grim.” She looked at Siobhan who was sitting, exhausted, in her chair. “You
must be tired. Why don’t you go home?”

“Will you be all right?”

“I’ll be fine. Go on. I’ll see you in the morning. Michael would like to see you too.”

“OK, I’ll be here for eight thirty. Good night Avril, sorry about Flash.”

“You did all you could Siobhan. Don’t feel bad. I’ll see ya.” Avril showed Siobhan out and watched her drive away through the
rain.

She made it home where Brendan was just putting Aisling to bed. She told him all that happened and was truly sorry for Avril.
He got Siobhan some dinner while she got ready, but he couldn’t stay. He had a meeting with Vincent and Fr. Mac to discuss
school funds and he needed to be off.

“Sorry I can’t stay. Do you want me to come back later?” He saw that she was still upset. Siobhan hated when an animal under
her care died.

“No, off you go. I’ll see you tomorrow after school. Thanks for dinner.”

“OK. Night so.” Without thinking twice, he kissed her forehead and was out the door. Siobhan looked after him in amazement.

The following day, almost everyone in the village had heard of Avril’s misfortune. When she was in the village getting some
shopping, numerous people had stopped to commiserate with her. It was well known that the yard was in financial trouble and
something like this could have a devastating effect. She called decided to call in and see Frankie to ask if they could postpone
their usual lunch. Avril knocked on the door as it was closed and waited until Frankie answered it.

“Hi Avril, come on in,” said Frankie when she answered it.

“Hi Frankie. Do you mind if we skip lunch today? It’s just-”

“I was ringing you to ask the same thing. I understand. Too bad about Flash.”

“I can’t believe it. I put so much into that horse and then something like colic wipes him out. Damn it anyway. The owner
picked the body up this morning. He didn’t say anything.”

“He can’t possibly blame you?”

“No, I don’t think so, but he didn’t exactly look overly thrilled with his dead horse, if you know what I mean.”

“Avril, you know colic is nothing to do with the trainer. Horses just get it. Don’t worry - something will turn up. You’ll be OK.”
Frankie hoped her assurances didn’t give Avril false hope. Avril knew that she was only trying to help, but the situation was a
lot bleaker than most people realised. Money was no longer tight, money was gone. She said her goodbyes to Frankie and
made her way home. Just as she arrived she saw Vincent leaving and he turned back as soon as he saw her.

“There you are! I was just coming to see how you’re doing.”

“Not great,” she sighed as she got out of her jeep. “What more can go wrong Vincent?”

“Avril, come on. Don’t give up!”

“Easy not to give up when you’ve got money but Vincent, I don’t have a penny. It’s just too bloody ironic. It seems so long
ago when I was dumping them into Kathleen’s till and now …. I’m going to have to sell some land - anything!”

“How much can you spare, land wise?”

“A bit. I really only need the fields this side of the road and the training one. The rest can go.”

“Will it be enough?”

“God, I hope so. I’m going into the bank tomorrow to sort some stuff out. I hope they’ll be lenient.” She heard the phone
ringing inside and Vincent waved her in.

“Go on and get that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks for coming out.”

“No problem. Take care and good luck with the bank.” He got into his car as Avril waved goodbye. He was concerned about
her. She hadn’t been attending the AA meetings and trying to battle out this latest crisis on her own wouldn’t help. He hoped
there was something that could be done, the sooner the better. Just as he was about to pull out onto the road, he spotted an
empty brandy bottle sticking out from the rubbish bin. He didn’t know what to think, did she drink it? Was it an old bottle that
was lying around? Maybe she gave someone a drink? He knew she kept alcohol in the house to give to people but at a time
like this, it was a temptation. He couldn’t just walk back in there and ask her but he couldn’t just forget about it either. He
decided that the best thing to do would be to ring her tonight and ask her to come to the next AA meeting. He hoped he was
jumping to conclusions.

It was a quiet in Fitzgerald’s as people were not too keen on going out on a wet and windy night. Vincent was sitting looking at
the television but not really seeing it. He was worried about Avril and was still deciding the best way to approach her. Brendan
had observed him long enough to know that something was up, after all Vincent was looking at soccer. It was almost sacrilege.

“Are you going to sit and cry into your drink all night?” he asked. Vincent looked over at him.

“Ehh?”

“What’s up with you?”

“Oh. It’s nothing Brendan. Just…. something on my mind.”

“I see. Something or someone?”

“Something about someone and I can’t say anything else.”

“Ahhh, mysterious priest’s stuff. Glad I’m not one.”

“You wouldn’t last a minute mate.”

“Hah! That’s what you think.”

“How’s Siobhan?” asked Vincent, with a knowing smile, making his point a bit clearer. After all Brendan had a daughter and a
…whatever in Siobhan.

“Hummm - message received! She’s fine, in fact, she asked me to go on holidays with her an’ Aisling.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, a while back. Tell me, what do you know about that other vet Gerry What’s-his-face from Cilldargan?

“Gerry What’s-his-face!?!”

“You know who I mean! What do you know about him?”

“If you mean the vet, Gerry Hogan,” said Vincent, putting emphasis on the surname, “I don’t know much. Nice bloke, I
suppose. Why?”

“Nice bloke….. hummm…. No particular reason, I was just asking.”

“Would Siobhan be that ‘no particular reason’?”

“You know what Vincent, sometimes you-”. He was interrupted by three strangers walking into the bar.

“’Scuse us lads, but is this the place where there are rooms available?”

“Sure is,” said Vincent. “Paul! Óonagh! Customers!” Paul climbed out from the cellar.

“Yes Gentlemen?”

“My name is Sean Riley, from Riley Constructions. We’re building the new houses outside the town and I need a place for the
men to stay. Would you be interested?”

“Need you ask? How many rooms do you want?”

“It’s an all or nothing contract. I’ll leave the lists here. They detail what’s acceptable to me. I won’t put you on the spot now, as
you’ll probably need time to think it over so I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll have a look over what you want and I’ll have an answer for you then.”

“That’s grand Mr…?”

“Dooley, Paul Dooley,” said Paul, holding out his hand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then Mr. Dooley” said Riley, shaking his hand. “Goodnight now. ‘Night lads.”

“Goodnight Mr. Riley” said Paul, as Brendan and Vincent acknowledged Riley’s goodbye. “Well, isn’t that a stroke of luck?
Wait ‘till I tell Óonagh!” Paul made his way inside, delighted.

“Looks like they’re really going to get started on those houses now Vincent.”

“It’s about time. What was the delay, do you know?”

“Planning. They were a little hasty in marking out their plot of land. Typical builders. I’d say they should have the first of the
houses ready in the New Year, around March.”

“March!”

“Well, it’s mid November now. They’ll work until Christmas and then break up until the first week in January. They’ll be doing
well to have the first few ready by March.”

“I suppose so,” he sighed.

“It’ll be worth waiting for. You must be fed up not having your own place.”

“You have no idea. I like it here, I really do, it’s just-”

“You’re a guest here. Can’t exactly walk around in a ratty tea-shirt and tracksuit, can you?” Vincent laughed at this, imaging
himself propped up at the bar dressed as Brendan described. “I need to be off Vincent. I’ll see you tomorrow sometime.”

“’Night Brendan. See you.” Vincent watched Brendan leave and caught a glimpse of the night outside. It was pouring rain and
the wind was howling through the town. He was beginning to see just how bad a winter could be here. The place seemed to be
permanently wet. He turned around again and focused on the TV, which was still showing the match. As it was so quiet, he
could hear Óonagh and Paul talking in the kitchen.

“It’s a lot of money Óonagh!”

“Paul, I know it is. But we can’t ask him to leave. Where would he go?”

“I don’t know. But look what Riley said - it’s an all or nothing contract. We either put up twelve men or we loose the lot to
some place in Cilldargan.” Paul was leaning against the door and it closed behind him; Vincent could hear no more. Not that it
mattered, he had heard enough. They needed his room. There was no question that he wouldn’t move, after all this kind of a
deal could bring in huge profits for the Dooley’s. Vincent just needed to figure out what he was going to do so he went up to his
room and closed the door behind him.

He quickly ran through his options, where could he go? Fr. Mac - no; Kathleen - no way; Avril - best not to, under the
circumstances; Brendan - okay for a night or two, but not long term as he had Aisling to stay sometimes, ditto for Siobhan;
Michael - too far; Frankie - not sure, possibly no room. Who else? He drummed his fingers on the desk, no obvious answer to
his problem. The only one that could have a room would be Frankie, but he didn’t know if she’d finished decorating and he
didn’t fancy any more time in the cell. He looked at his watch and saw it was half past eight, so she’d definitely be there.
Should he go and ask? After all, she did offer ages ago. Fr. Mac wouldn’t want the Dooley’s to loose out on account of him
but he wouldn’t be thrilled at the prospect of him staying with Frankie either. He had made it abundantly clear that Vincent
would have to stay in Ballykissangel and that he would arrange something should it become necessary. Vincent knew Fr. Mac’s
definition of ‘arranging something’ was to send him back to Kathleen’s. He decided that there was only one way to find out,
he’d go and see Frankie. He got into his coat and on his way out the door reminded himself to call Avril later. Paul and Óonagh
were still in the kitchen, talking about the builders so he knocked on the door to tell them he was going out for a bit.

“I’ll be back soon guys and I want to have a word with you later, if that’s okay?”

“Of course Father. We’ll be here,” Óonagh replied. Vincent nodded goodbye and went out. He pulled up his hood and held his
coat tightly around him as he waited for Frankie to answer the door. She opened the door and was surprised to see him
standing there.

“Come on in. What are you doing out on a night like this?”

“Hi Frankie. Christ, it’s miserable out there,” he chattered, his teeth rattling of their own accord.

“Hang your coat there and come in to the fire,” she said, pointing to a free coat hook.

“Thanks, I won’t be staying long. I need to ask you a favour,” he explained, hanging his dripping coat and following her inside.
Frankie made room on a chair for him, putting various files on the floor. It was obvious she was working in here, where it was
warmer.

“What is it?” she enquired.

“I need a place to stay.”

“Oh, well, I have the room and you’re welcome to it if you need it. Can I ask why?”

“Paul and Óonagh got a good offer to board the guys who are building the new houses. But, they need my room and rather
than have them ask me to go, which they probably won’t-”

“You’d rather find another place to stay, to avoid an awkward situation,” she finished.

“Exactly. I know this is short notice Frankie, but I’d really appreciate it. They’ve been so good to me that it’s the least I can
do. Do you mind?”

“No, not at all. I offered it to you ages ago, so you’re more than welcome, plus it’s fit to be lived in again. It’s ready when you
are.”

“This is really great of you. I’ll let Fr. Mac know and we’ll work something out rent wise, he-”

“Vincent! Don’t be silly, there is no rent.”

“Frankie, come on - I can’t stay here without paying for it.”

“This house belongs to the Gardaí, who wouldn’t dream of taking rent from a priest in need. Honestly, it’s fine. All I have to
pay for is food and fuel for the fire, so we can work something out over that.”

“Wow! Are you sure?”

“Of course I am. It’s normally family who stay here like the Guard who was here before me, but there have been instances in
other places where someone has been allowed to move in. It’s at the discretion of the Garda in charge, which in this case,
happens to be me. The other stipulation is that the person staying is usually requested to make a donation to the parish fund or a
charity. But that would be like paying yourself to stay here, which wouldn’t make a lot of sense.”

“Well, I see your point. But I think Fr. Mac would prefer to give a donation, as would I. Is there a Garda fund or something?”

“Yeah, there’s one or two I think. Perhaps he had better talk to Inspector Foley about it.”

“Okay, if it’s alright with you then and presuming that Fr. Mac doesn’t go ballistic, I’ll move in as soon as the Dooley’s need
the room. I hope that suits you?”

“Sure. Have you mentioned any of this to Fr. Mac yet?”

“No. I was planning that move strategically,” he said, thoughtfully.

“What? Tell him and then run away!?!”

“I need to consider all my options. You’ll probably hear the shouts all the way from Cilldargan. Anyway, I better go and break
the news across the road. You’ve saved me from a fate worse than death!” he said as he made his way to the hall for his coat.

“Worse than death?”

“Kathleen’s.”

“Oooh. Say no more,” she said, remembering his last experiences at Kathleen’s. Vincent was struggling to get into his coat, as
it was so wet. She held out one sleeve for him.

“Thanks,” he said as he managed to pull it on. “This bloody coat. I can’t believe I got this wet just crossing the street.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. Call that a winter coat?”

“Yes, I did, but I can see my definition of a winter coat is a bit lame.” he laughed as he pulled up the hood. “Thanks again
Frankie. Presuming it’s okay with Fr. Mac, can I drop some stuff over tomorrow evening?”

“Sure. I’ll be here after five.”

“Great. I’ll be in touch tomorrow, then. Goodnight and thanks!”

“Night Vincent.” she closed the door behind him, glad to shut out the stormy night. She went back into the sitting room and
reclaimed her place by the fire. She was looking forward to his arrival, it’d be good fun. She picked up her files again with a
smile.

Vincent arrived back in Fitzgerald’s and pushed open the kitchen door where he discovered Óonagh and Paul sitting at the
table, looking rather glum.

“I was wondering if I could have a word with you Father?” asked Paul.

“Paul...” hissed Óonagh, “no!”

“It’s okay Óonagh. I suspect I know what you’re going to ask Paul, but you don’t have to. I just want to tell you that I’m
moving out and to thank you for looking after me so well.”

“Oh Father! How did you know?” cried Óonagh.

“I can put two and two together - an ‘ all or nothing contract’ and you not wanting to ask me to leave…” he said with a smile.

“But where will you go? I don’t want you to be in some miserable-”

“Don’t worry Óonagh. Frankie has a spare room and she offered it to me a long time ago in case of emergencies. I think this
qualifies, so presuming that Fr. Mac will agree, I’ll be out of your hair as soon as necessary.”

“You have no idea what this means to us Father. Thank you so much,” said Paul, much relieved that he didn’t have to ask the
man to leave.

“It’s the least I can do. I wouldn’t have liked it if you lost out on my account, after you’ve been so good to me. Thankfully, it’s
all worked out so you can go ahead and accept the builders offer.”

“We’ll miss having you here Father,” said Óonagh genuinely. “I hope you’ll always feel able to drop in and have a cup of tea or
watch a match with Dermot.”

“Thanks Óonagh. Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Any ideas on when I need to go?”

“Would the day after tomorrow be alright? If not we can put them off-”

“No, I’m sure that’ll be fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a few phone calls to make. Goodnight, see you in the morning.”
They said their goodnights and Paul shook his hand and again repeated his thanks. Vincent made his way upstairs and rang Fr.
Mac to arrange and appointment for the following day and he also rang Avril. The phone rang and rang when eventually the
answering service clicked on.

“The phone is unattended at the moment. Please leave a message”

“Avril hi, it’s Vincent. Emm, give me a ring when you get this. Bye.” With that, he hung up. He didn’t want to leave a message
about the meeting, as he knew that sometimes Johnny checked the messages for her. He also didn’t want to tell her about his
latest move over the phone in case she took it the wrong way. He got ready for bed, thinking about his day and hoping that he
was wrong about Avril and the brandy bottle.

“YOU WHAT!?!”

“I said Father, that I’m going to move into the Garda station,” explained Vincent, hoping that Fr. Mac wasn’t going to have a
stroke.

“Fr. Sheahan, let me just ask you this one question. Are you, in the name of all the saints in heaven telling me, that the only
available place in Ballykissangel is the Garda station? Where, as if I need say, you’ll be living with Frankie Sullivan?

“That’s two questions Father.”

“Don’t even start with me. I won’t have it! You are not moving in there!” he barked at Vincent angrily.

“Well, what am I supposed to do then? I can’t stay at the pub and before you even suggest it, I am not going back to Kathleen
Hendley’s!”

“You will if I say you will! Does the word ‘obedience’ only apply to other priests and not to you?”

“Does the word ‘compassion’ mean nothing to you?” Now he was angry and he badly wanted to shake some sense into Fr.
Mac.

“What do you mean ‘compassion’? Kathleen is not a prison warden. For God’s sake, Father don’t be so melodramatic. After
our talk a while ago, I thought you understood that I was here to help you. Why do you insist on doing things that you know I
will not agree to?”

“Okay, can we just forget the formalities for one minute and just talk? Permission to speak freely or something?” Vincent was
only just holding on to the last of his control. What was it about this man that brought out the worst in him? Fr. Mac realised
that if he was going to hear any sense at all from Vincent, he may as well agree to his request, disrespectful as it was.

“Fine, speak as freely as you want.”

“Why are you so angry about this? It couldn’t be a better living arrangement and Guard Sullivan has waived any rent. Is it
because I’m a man and she’s a woman you think I won’t be able to control myself or vice versa? I don’t understand you! What
is your problem?”

“You really do like to exaggerate don’t you? We’ve had this conversation before about Avril Burke and I’m not going to go
over it again. You know how I feel about this whole situation. You going from one home to another and living in a pub. How
can I let you live with Frankie? Do you realise what kind of signal it sends out?”

“She is the only one who has a room! And if people want to gossip, let them gossip. As long as the ones who are directly
involved know the truth, why do you care?”

“Because it’s my job to care, as it is yours. This is a no win situation for me. If you move into the station, then it’s an awkward
state of affairs and you can’t deny that. If I force you to go to Kathleen’s, then you’re unhappy and I’m the one who caused it.
Do you not understand that? I am seriously considering moving you from Ballykissangel to here.”

“That wouldn’t be much use and you have admitted that yourself one more than one occasion. As far as I see it, the only
alternative is Frankie’s place and again I’m asking for your trust. Have I let you down yet?”

“Apart from the wedding at the mass rock fiasco, no.” Fr. Mac decided to give in. He genuinely felt it was a bad idea but
Vincent was right, there was nowhere else. There was no point in making him stay at Kathleen’s, as he would just be miserable
under her watchful eye. ‘Prison warden’ was an apt description but he was not going to admit that to Vincent.

“Anyway, the first of the houses will probably be ready by March. This will be the last move. I don’t exactly like not having my
own home either. I’ve got stuff left in so many different places, I hope I can put it all back together again.”

“Speaking of which, any chance you would take some of those books with you? If I knock them over just once more...” By the
tone of his voice, Vincent sensed that Fr. Mac had agreed to his proposal.

“Does that mean I can tell Frankie that you agree?”

“Yes, I suppose it does. I have no choice, do I? However, I would like to make some contribution-”

“I already asked and she mentioned some fund. She also suggested that you talk it over with Inspector Foley.”

“Humm. Fine, I’ll speak with the Inspector and I’ll have a word with Guard Sullivan too.”

“Oh no! You’re not going to-”

“To thank her, Father. What did you think I was going to do? Lecture her on Catholic Doctrine?” he said with a glare. Vincent
really wanted to say yes, but he managed to hold his tongue and change the subject.

“As soon I get settled I’ll take those books out of your way. Thanks for holding them for me.”

“Humph. Anyway, you probably have things to do.” This was Fr. Mac’s way of saying ‘get out’, so Vincent left before
anything further could be said. He was relieved that the argument hadn’t continued long although it took him a good few minutes
to calm down. On his way, he stopped the car at the roadside grotto. Somebody had just put new flowers around the statue.
He got out and sat on a rock, the air was bitingly cold but fresh after the storm last night. It was just what he needed to clear his
head and he looked around at the bare trees. He had to admit that even without all the greenery, it was a beautiful place. He
couldn’t stay out much longer though as the sky was clouding over so he got back into his car and drive on to the town. He
passed by Avril’s yard and debated if he should go in or not. Deciding that he should visit, he indicated to turn however, the
gates were pulled across and securely locked. He got out of the car and peered through the tiny gap between the gate and the
wall. From what he could see her jeep wasn’t there, so he figured that she’d taken herself off for the day. He’d try to phone her
again later on that night. He pulled up behind the pub and ran across to Frankie’s place to let her know that he received the all
clear from Fr. Mac. Once he reached Fitzgerald’s he went to see Óonagh.

“Hello Father. How did it go?”

“Well, he didn’t kill me Óonagh, although he came close to it. Anyway, he agreed so I’ll start moving out tonight.”

“Thank you so much Father. The builders are coming in the morning and I’ll have the place ready for them. I hope you know
that I wouldn’t have asked-”

“Say no more Óonagh. I know you wouldn’t. I had a great time here and you all looked after me so well. I’ll still be around
though, it’s not as if I’m moving to the other side of the world.”

“No, just the other side of the street. Dermot left a tape for you, more Aussie Rules I imagine.”

“I’ll convert him yet.”

“If he put as much energy into his studies as he does into sport, I don’t think we need worry about his exams.”

“He’ll be fine. He’s a smart kid. Anyway, I better start packing some stuff up. I’ll talk to you later.” There were a few
customers in the bar and Óonagh nodded her goodbye as she went to serve them. Once Vincent was in his room he looked at
what he needed to do. There was little point in packing everything as he could just carry it across the road. He decided to put
all books and other bits and pieces into his rucksack. He had a smaller bag that he could fit a few clothes into and he could
carry the rest. He sat down on the floor beside a pile of newspapers and was soon lost in deciding which papers and magazines
he wanted and which ones could be thrown out. A knock on the door interrupted him.

“Come in!” he called. Frankie put her head into the room.

“There you are.” she said, surveying the stacks of paper and books.

“Hey Frankie. What’s up?”

“This seems to be a recurring theme with you and I, but I have to go on late duty in Cilldargan, so I won’t be home until ten.
This time however, you can let yourself in when you’re ready.” She tossed a key towards him and he caught it deftly.

“I could’ve played cricket.” he said, pleased with the catch.

“Oh please, even my old Granny could’ve caught that,” she laughed. “Anyway, drop whatever you want across and I’ll see you
tomorrow sometime.”

“Okay Frankie, thanks. See you then,” he said as she left him too his sorting. He continued on until dinnertime when he went
downstairs to the kitchen. Gráinne was there, sitting at the table looking sad.

“Something the matter?” he asked.

“Avril just rang to say she didn’t need me at the yard this evening.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she promised I could look after The Cat. But now she says it’ll be too dark for me to walk around and she’ll see me at
the weekend - maybe.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry Gráinne, Avril will let you look after The Cat soon. She just has a lot going on at the moment.” Vincent
was surprised to hear that Avril called. “Did she want me for anything?” he asked, wondering if Avril had received the message
he left on the phone.

“No, she just rang and told me not to come up,” sighed Gráinne. Óonagh was busy dishing out the food so the conversation
dropped. Dermot arrived in from school, tired after his long day but he soon rallied when talking with Vincent. They all spent
their last evening together having a bit of craic. When Vincent eventually got up to bring some things over the Frankie’s the two
kids volunteered to help. He surveyed the result of his grand-clearance operation and directed Gráinne to a pile of books on
the floor.

“Can you manage those?” he enquired. Gráinne picked them up without any bother.

“No problem!” she replied. Dermot went to pick up the rucksack but quickly changed his mind when he tried unsuccessfully to
lift it. He then tried the smaller clothes bag.

“Gahhh! What’s in here?” he gasped, dropping the bag with a thud.

“Dermot - you big weed!” said Gráinne.

“Maybe you should just try those papers?” answered Vincent with a laugh, indicating two big piles on the desk. Dermot
managed to lift those without any difficulty, much to his relief. Vincent lifted the clothes bag and the three set off. When they
reached the house, Vincent fished for the key that Frankie gave him in his pocket. He put it into the lock but he couldn’t
manage to get the door open.

“There’s a knack to it, Father Vin,” said Dermot. “Turn the key and push it at the same time.” He did as directed and the door
opened.

“How did you know about that?” he asked, amazed.

“I seen Frankie do it often enough,” he shrugged, following him in.

“It’s ‘I have seen’ not ‘I seen’ Dermot,” corrected Gráinne, switching on the hall light.

“Yes Miss Grammar!” answered Dermot. “Where will we leave this stuff Father?”

“Upstairs I presume. I don’t think Frankie would want it left in the hall. Follow me.” He went up the narrow staircase and
pushed open the door to the back room, which Frankie had already shown him.

“Hey! Nice place!” said Dermot, observing the room and looking out the window into the darkness. “I can just see the river
from here. If you had a long enough line, you could nearly fish from your room. How cool would that be?” Vincent and Gráinne
looked at each other with raised eyebrows, wisely choosing not to answer the question. They left the various bits of luggage in
the room and went back downstairs.

“Okay guys. I’m just going to sort this stuff out and I’ll be back across in about half an hour. Thanks for the help,” he said.

“No problem Father Vin. See you later!” The two kids waved goodbye as he closed the door. Vincent ran back upstairs to
unpack and noticed that he had to duck just as he got to the top step, as the ceiling was a bit low. He just knew he was going
to hit his head sometime in the future. He arranged the books on a bookcase that had a few shelves cleared for him. The rest
contained some of Frankie’s Garda training material which looked interesting. There was an empty set of drawers which he
used for some clothes and put others hanging in the wardrobe. He took his leather jacket downstairs and hung it on the coat
rack next to his so-called winter coat. Then he saw that Frankie had an old wooden box for runners, Wellington boots and
other outdoor shoes. Rather than keep his upstairs he collected them and put them into the box beside hers. As there was
nothing else for him to do, he locked up and went back across to Fitzgerald’s where the regulars had arrived for their nightly
drink and gossip.

“Oho! Here he is! Your last night of freedom, Father. The long arm of the law has finally caught up with the wild colonial boy,”
said Liam from his usual bar stool.

“How many more clichés can you work into that sentence, Liam?” asked Brendan.

“Thanks mate!” said Vincent after Brendan had effectively silenced Liam. “Unlike some people around here, I have no reason
to fear ‘the long arm of the law’ as you put it. Cheers!” He raised his drink in salute.

“Sláinte” answered Brendan and Siobhan. They soon had roped him into a game of poker with Liam and Dónal. Vincent pulled
out of game after an hour, as he needed to do some work for tomorrow and he bid his goodnights to all. About an hour later
when he was just finishing his writing, his mobile phone rang. He looked at the caller I.D. and to his relief, saw Avril’s name.

“Hi Avril,” he said, answering the phone.

“Hi Vincent, sorry for the late call and sorry for not getting back to you before now but I didn’t get a chance. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you would come to the next AA meeting in Cilldargan with me?”

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“It’s not me, it’s you I’m worried about.”

“But I’m fine!”

“Avril-”

“Vincent, I don’t know why you think I have to go to the meeting. There’s nothing the matter with me.”

“You haven’t been to one for a good while Avril and with all the stuff going on at the yard and everything else, I would hate to
think that you felt alone.” He was still debating if he should mention the bottle he saw.

“I just didn’t have the time, is all.” She didn’t sound terribly convincing to Vincent, who knew all to well the signs of denial.

“Avril, if I ask you something will you please understand that I’m only asking because I’m concerned?”

“This sounds serious!”

“I am. Will you-”

“Yes already! I’ll understand!”

“I saw an empty brandy bottle in your rubbish bin.” He simply stated the facts as he saw them. It all depended on her answer.

“You worry too much. It was just a bottle that I had here to give a drink to people. What with all the comings and goings over
Flash, the last of it was finished up. So you can put your mind at rest. I’m fine.”

“Well that’s good to hear. Will you go to the meeting with me anyway?”

“Sure. Thursday isn’t it?”

“Yep, seven o’clock. See you there?”

“On the dot. Thanks for the concern but I really there’s no need. Any other news?”

“Yeah actually, I’ll be moving again tomorrow.”

“Oh? Where too?”

“Frankie’s place.”

“Really?” she said, most interested in this latest development.

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?” she replied, feigning innocence.

“You know exactly what. I told you before-”

“I know. And as I said before, it just shows you what I know. Must be seeing things.”

“You must be. And I thought Frankie was a friend of yours?” Vincent was a bit nettled now. This was exactly how rumours
started and he didn’t want Frankie to be hurt by any malicious gossip. It had nearly happened before with Kathleen’s
speculation on Frankie’s snappish form and her smoking. He hoped it wasn’t about to start again.

“Oh, take it easy. I was only messing with you. She IS my friend, so you have no fear of me gossiping!” Avril wisely guessed
that that’s what was bothering him, as she knew gossip was one of his pet hates. The phone reception was beginning to break
up a bit and as much as Vincent wanted to clarify the point, he couldn’t, so he said his goodbyes.

“Okay then, well as the phone is going, I’ll just leave it and see you at seven on Thursday in Cilldargan?”

“Seven it is. See y-” The reception died before she got a chance to finish and Vincent tossed the phone on the table in
frustration. He just knew by her that she wasn’t telling the truth and the biggest give away was the word ‘fine’. There was no
word he hated to hear most, especially when used by an alcoholic in relation to their problem. He remembered his mentor,
Father Murphy, shouting at him one night when Vincent was insisting everything was ‘fine’.

“Vincent, to me ‘fine’ means; Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional! You are all of these and more and the sooner you
admit it, to yourself especially, the better!”

Vincent sat in silent astonishment as Murph slammed the door behind him. He had never heard a cross word from the man, he
had never raised his voice, never cursed and here all three occurred at once. Not only that, but Murph had hit the nail on the
head. From that day on, Vincent had remembered that ‘fine’ was the danger word. Even when he hit rock bottom again in
Brazil he wouldn’t say he was fine if anybody asked, he used ‘great’, ‘never better’ and the like. He vowed to himself that as
far as drink went, he would never be fine. While it didn’t automatically mean that Avril had the same problem, he knew what to
watch out for. He didn’t buy her ‘no time’ excuse for missing the other meetings, she changed the subject as quickly as possible
and she just didn’t sound herself. For her own sake, he hoped she’d show up on Thursday. He wished he was wrong, but all
his instincts told him there was going to be trouble. He shook his head sadly and started to put his work away into the
rucksack. As he got into bed he hoped that everything would go smoothly with his next move and that he wasn’t going to cause
any trouble for Frankie. With a sigh, he reached out and switched off the light.