The following morning Vincent woke up at his usual six thirty. There was no point in going out for early morning run now, as the sun didn't rise until at least eight. It was taking him some time to get used to the shorter days and he was doing his best to stay asleep until at least seven. However, after tossing and turning for fifteen minutes, he had enough and got up. After he had a shower and got ready he gathered the last of his belonging and left them on the bed. By now it was seven thirty and the Dooleys would be having breakfast so he went downstairs to join them.

"Morning Father Vin," said Dermot as he reached the kitchen.

"Morning Dermot, morning everyone," he said.

"The big move out today Father," said Paul. "You know to drop in anytime now, don't you?"

"Thanks Paul, I'll still be around!"

"Father, do you think I – yahhhaahh – sorry!" yawned Gráinne, scrubbing at her eyes.

"Wakey, wakey Gráinne!" said Óonagh, giving her daughter a tickle.

"Do you think what?" asked Vincent, smiling.

"Would it be a good idea to call Avril today?" she said, after she had squirmed away from her mother.

"Don't see why not. She might need a hand later on," he answered.

"Good." Gráinne was satisfied that if Vincent thought it was a good idea then she was okay. She was sorely disappointed when Avril told her to stay at home yesterday. She had been looking forward to it all day. The family finished breakfast and the kids said their goodbyes to Vincent. The school bus was pulling up outside for Dermot and he ran off. Gráinne could walk to school so she had a bit more time, which was just as well as she needed to finish some homework. Vincent decided that now would be a good time to finish clearing out his stuff before he had to go to the church.

"Well Óonagh, Paul, I'd better get a move on!"

"Do you need a hand to carry anything Father?" asked Paul.

"No thanks Paul, the kids helped me carry over most of it last night, there's only a few bits left and I can manage." He got up from the table and said his goodbyes to them. Having lived with them for so long, he was almost used to being part of the family and would miss the kids especially. It would be very quiet without them now. Paul and Óonagh waited until he had collected everything before giving him a goodbye present. It wasn't a necessary gesture but they wanted to show how appreciative they were for what he was doing. It couldn't be a nice thing having no place to call your own and Vincent had moved around enough these past few months.

"Father, before you go we'd just like to give you this," said Óonagh, handing him a small package.

"Oh guys, you didn't have to do that!" he said, bashful.

"We wanted too," said Paul as Vincent opened the wrapping paper. Inside he found a small green cardboard tube with a gold lid. He opened it and took out the contents. Inside he found a candle that was about three quarters used, a card with some writing and an envelope.

"You see Father, for the millennium, every household in Ireland was given one of these candles. Everybody lit theirs at sunset on New Years Eve 1999 to welcome in the new millennium. Then whoever was present in the house signed the card that came with it. We want you to have our one because even though you weren't here, we'd like to thank you for the contribution you made to our family since you arrived. It's been great having you here and we'll all miss you," explained Óonagh, giving Vincent a hug. He was visibly moved by this gesture and read out what was on the card after he cleared his throat.

"When time began to rant and rage, The measure of her flying feet, Made Ireland's heart begin to beat; And time bade all his candle flare, To light a measure here and there. – Written by Yeats, I see." Then all of the Dooley family had signed it at New Years `99 and written after the signatures was an invitation which he read out also. "You mightn't have been here to welcome in 2000 Father Vin, but you better be for 2002! All the best, love from The Dooleys."

"We mean it Father, New Years Eve - you have to be here!" said Paul.

"I wouldn't miss it. Thank you so much for this, it means a lot to me. Oh, what's this?" he enquired picking up the small envelope.

"Dermot had to put that in," said Óonagh. Vincent opened the envelope and out fell a small well known orange card from the Monopoly game with `Get out of jail free' on it. Dermot had written on the back –`For use in emergencies, should Frankie decide to lock you up!' Vincent laughed with the others over this and hugged Óonagh goodbye and shook Paul's hand.

"Goodbye all, thanks again for everything. It really does mean a lot to me. Cheerio! I'll see you around."

"'Bye Father!" They waved him off and closed the door after him.

                As it was still early, Vincent didn't want to let himself into Frankie's house so he knocked on the door. That it to say he knocked with his foot as his arms were full. Frankie opened the door with tea and toast in her hand.

"Hi Vincent! Welcome."

"Morning Frankie," he said as she held the door open for him. "I have got to put this stuff down before my arms drop off."

"You know where the room is! I'm in the kitchen when you're ready," she said, making her way down the hall. Vincent just made it to his room and dumped everything on the bed while he shook his arms. It was a lot heavier than it looked he thought to himself, surveying the pile. He could sort it out later but he should go downstairs to Frankie. He picked up his candle to show her.

"Hey," he peered around the kitchen door.

"Hey yourself! Do you want a cup of tea? There's a whole pot there," she pointed to a teapot on the table.

"Sure! Despite the fact I've just had breakfast," he said sitting down and handed her the candle in its box. "Look what the Dooleys gave me."

"Oh, a millennium candle!" said Frankie opening it and reading the note. "Aww, that's really nice of them. They must've thought a lot of you to give you this."

"I think it was one of the best things I ever got. It means a lot, you know?" he said, drinking some tea.

"Absolutely," she agreed.

"Óonagh said everybody got one?"

"Every household. The postmen just loved it! On top of the usual Christmas post there were these candles to be delivered and as you can see they're a bit too big to fit through the average letter box. So loads of people had to go to their local sorting office to pick it up. It was a nice idea though."

"What else did people do for the millennium?"

"All sorts of projects. The forestry people planted a tree for every family too and there was loads of projects that local communities benefited from. There was no big one off event or building, they just distributed the money over the year for stuff like that," she explained, putting the candle back in the box.

"That was nice. What did you do to see in 2000?"

"I was at home with the family and the whole lot of us went into Dublin city to Christ Church where the ring the bells at midnight. It was good fun as always. What were you doing?"

"I was at home too. I wasn't long back from Brazil and was out of rehab for the holidays. My parents were delighted to have the old me back. It was great."

"New beginnings, huh?"

"Definitely! Speaking of which, thanks again for letting me move in here on such short notice."

"It's no problem at all. Sorry I didn't get to see you last night but as usual I got stuck with bloody paperwork in Cilldargan."

"Does that happen often?"

"About once every six weeks. Depends on when they need extra help. As if I didn't have enough to keep me busy here! Anyway, I won't have to do it again for a while. I should show you around and how to work the alarms and stuff. I left it off last night but I'm not supposed to if I'm not here." She stood up from the table and went into the office with Vincent in tow.

"Okay, here's the main switch and you have thirty seconds after you enter the code to close the front door. The code is 1270, please don't forget it because if the alarm goes off you'll have a fleet of cops charging in from Cilldargan."

"1270, any particular reason?"

"12 for December and 70 for 1970… no particular reason why I picked that year," she said with a smile.

"Birthday, got it!" he smiled as she glared at him. "So how do I set the alarm if I'm in the house?"

"The same way, flick the switch and put in the code, the same to turn it off again. Remember not to open the back door or any windows when it's on. It okay to walk around the place and to open the front door. As I said, it gives you thirty seconds to turn it off if you open the front door."

"Wouldn't a burglar then just come in through the front and make you turn the alarm off?"

"I suppose they could just like in a any house, but the alarm is really to keep people in!" she said with a smile, pointing to the cell. "That's one internal door you can't open when this is set."

"Oh, right! I forgot about that! Anything else I should know?"

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but there might be times when I'll need you to keep out of the way. You know, like that time when I had police business to discuss with Michael?"

"I understand. Do you want me to leave?"

"No, look what happened the last time! Just stay in one of the rooms where you won't be seen. I know you're totally trustworthy, it's just in case some solicitor says that an `unofficial' person was privy to details of a police interview. You know how they go on."

"Do I ever. Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of. Oh, what should I do if someone calls for you and you're not here? Will I give them your mobile number or what?"

"Yeah, it's probably the best thing to do. Generally, I don't get too many people looking for me `after hours' because they know where I am during the day and they can reach me at the church. What about you, what if there's an emergency call for you and you're not here?"

"Call me on the radio, I'll have mine with me if I'm out. Just press that button to talk." She showed him the radio on the desk. "Anyway, it most likely won't happen as callers know that if the car isn't outside, then I'm not here. Telephone callers won't get through as all calls are rerouted if I'm out. The house phone is unaffected, so you'll be able to make and receive calls."

"I hope I remember all this."

"It sounds more complicated than it is. Don't worry about it, you'll see how it operates over time. Opps, nine o'clock, time for my morning stroll about. What time are you heading out for?"

"I need to be at the church for ten. I'll finish sorting out my stuff upstairs."

"Okay, I'll be back before you go anyway. See you later," she put on her winter uniform coat, gloves and hat and went outside. Vincent went up to his room and quickly put the last of his things away. He looked out the window and remember what Dermot said the night before. He was right, you could almost fish from the room. He smiled at the thought, Frankie would just love that! He went downstairs and was getting ready when he noticed that his shoes could use a good polish. He hunted around for some but he couldn't find any. He had just given up his search when Frankie arrived back, shivering from the cold.

"Cripes, it's cold out!" she said, hanging up her coat.

"When isn't it?" he replied. "Frankie, do you have any black shoe polish?"

"Yeah, it's in the scullery."

"The what?"

"The scullery, the little room off the kitchen, look," she opened what he thought was the back door, but turned out to be a small room with a washing machine, presses and numerous shelves with general household products.

"I thought that was the back door," he said as she handed him the polish and brushes.

"No, this is the back door here," she explained, unlocking and opening the door in the scullery.

"I see!" he smiled. "Hey, this is Kiwi polish!" he exclaimed, realising what he was currently rubbing onto his shoes.

"Made in Ireland and before you ask I have no idea why it's called that," she said smiling.

  "Oh, well, that's okay then. For a minute there I thought I'd have to scrape it off my shoes."

"Kiwi / Aussie, tomato / tomato" she said, emphasising the American pronunciation of tomato.

"Irish / English, who can tell?" he answered, knowing he'd get a reaction.

"I suppose you're right. Aren't you going to be late?" she said sweetly.

"Damn, I see you've been studying up on `how not to get livid'."

"I had to do a crash course since I found out you were staying!"

"Guard?? Hello??" came a voice from outside. Frankie went into the kitchen and saw Edso knocking on the window. "Are you open for business?"

"One second Edso," she called as she went to open the door. "What's up?"

"Howrya Guard. I need one of them forms for a HGV driving test."

Okay, here ya' go," said Frankie, pulling the required form out. "I thought I've seen you driving Avril's horse box, Edso. Don't tell me you don't have a licence for that!"

"No! I do for that, but I want to learn to drive the big heavy goods vehicle, you know like a big eighteen wheeler or something."

"I see. Well, good luck with that."

"Thanks Guard. Howrya Father!" he said to Vincent who was on his way out.

"Morning Edso. See you later Guard."

"'Bye Father," answered Frankie, appreciative of the fact that he didn't call her Frankie while she was dealing with Edso.

"Father, could I walk with you?" asked Edso.

"Sure, come on." They both left and Vincent pulled the door after him. "What's on your mind Edso?"

"I'm a bit worried about Avril."

"Worried how?"

"I don't want to jump to any conclusions but… is Avril an alcoholic?"

"Why would you think that?" said Vincent, hoping his face didn't give anything away. Why would Edso tumble to this conclusion?

"I saw her in Wicklow the other day and she looked the worse for wear, if you know what I mean. Then yesterday I was out at the yard and Father, I could smell the drink in the van. I don't know what to do but I thought maybe you would."

"Leave it with me Edso. Say no more about it."

"Okay then. See ya' now Father."

"'Bye Edso, and thanks for telling me."

"Sure, I hope I'm wrong," he answered as Vincent opened the gates to the church. He went inside with his mind in turmoil. This only confirmed his own suspicions about Avril. Tonight he'd know for sure at the AA meeting. In the meantime, he had to get ready for confessions and then he had a group of seven year olds from the National School coming in. They were a First Communion class and enthusiastic about everything. He was soon busy and put all thoughts of Avril out of his mind.

That evening on his way to Frankie's for dinner, he first stopped off in Kathleen's to pick up some food.

"Good evening Father. I see you've moved on again," said Kathleen, eager for some news.

"Indeed I have. How much is all that Kathleen? I'm running a bit late." Vincent had no intention of saying any more than was necessary.

"Twenty three pounds exactly Father."

"Here you go. Bye now!"

"Goodbye Father, tell Guard Sullivan I was asking for her." Vincent just smiled and waved goodbye, closing the door firmly. He walked back through the village, thinking that even the most recluse hermit in the village probably knew all about his move at this stage. It was uncanny the way news travelled. He reached the front door and remembering Dermot's tip, managed to open it on the first go. Frankie was in the office on the phone and waved as he was passing. He shook out his coat, hung it up and went into the kitchen. He quickly started putting the shopping away and was just finished when she came in.

"Hi Vincent, how was the day?"

"Not too bad Frankie, a bit busy. You?" he answered turning to her. Frankie was sitting at the table, with her feet propped up on anther chair.

"Can't complain," she answered. "Would you like some chicken curry for dinner? I made loads."

"That would be handy. I've got a meeting in Cilldargan at seven."

"Okay then." Frankie rummaged about in the fridge and handed him a big pyrex dish. "Take what you want out of that, the rice is in that dish on the counter".

"Thanks," he said as he dished it out. "Is that enough for you?"

"Plenty. What's the meeting?"

"AA"

"Oh, good for you. I'm going to watch a film on the telly."

"Do I have to guess?" he asked, taking Frankie's meal out of the microwave and putting it on the table.

"Yup!"

"Well, you're not coming straight out with the title and …. you've got the TV to yourself so …. I'd have to guess it's some horrendous chick flick. Am I close?"

"Chick flick? It's a comedy called `While you were Sleeping'," she said, knowing full well it was but not giving in.

"Seen it – chick flick of the highest order!"

"Huh - what's a chick flick of the lowest order then?"

"One of those films that at first you think isn't, but then turns out to be one."

"Like…?"

"Oh, `Gladiator' for example."

"What!?! No way!"

  "Oh yes it is! You think men would pay money to see Russell Crowe in a little skirt? How many times did you see it – honestly?"

 "Three," she said, much too quickly.

"Frankie…"

"I saw it three times… in the cinema."

"Pathetic! And how many times have you seen it on video?"

"Ummm… none."

"You lie! I know you've seen it since the cinema!"

"I amn't lying! I never once saw it on video but I do have it on DVD."

"My God! And you complain about solicitors twisting words to suit
them! DVD, huh? All the better to zoom in with, I'm sure!" he said, laughing at her `completely innocent' face. "See – proves my point! It's a chick flick."

"Doesn't prove anything! Gladiator had loads of blood, guts and violence. It's not a chick flick."

"Oh please! Of course it is." Vincent was not going to give in either. It was fun to see Frankie try and argue her way out of it. They continued on with their debate until he realised he was going to be late and he needed to change before he went. "We're not done with this Mrs Crowe! I'll see you later!"

"Mrs Crowe…" sighed Frankie.

"What have I started!" Vincent quickly ran upstairs to change and with a final goodbye to Frankie, who was ensconced in front of the TV for her film, he was out the door and on his way to Cilldargan. It was just seven when he parked the car and he made a run for the meeting. Once he got inside he quickly glanced around for Avril but he couldn't see her. He made his way to a free seat when someone reached out from behind him and snagged his jumper.

"Where were you? I saved you a seat."

"Avril! Good to see you. How's it going?"

"Fine," she smiled at him and Vincent's heart sank. He just knew it - she was lying to him. Still, she participated in the meeting and stayed around afterwards talking with the group. By all outwards appearances, Avril really was doing okay but he had Edso's concerns and his own about her. He knew that the worst thing he could do would be to force a confession, for want of a better term, out of her. He would just have to wait it out and hope she came to him. All he could do now was to be her friend. They left the meeting together and walked the short distance to the car park through the frosty air. Avril was huddled in her big coat and she linked her arm through his.

"You should get a better coat than that Vincent."

"I know. Frankie said I could go with her next time she goes to Dublin to get one."

"How's that working out for you? Has she managed not to lock you up yet?"

"Why do people think she's going to lock me up? It's not like we fight all the time!"

"Ha!"

"What? We don't!"

"You do so. You would say black is white just to get a rise out of her and vice versa. You're worse than Brendan and Siobhan."

"You're imaging things. We're not fighting, just – I don't know what it is, but it's not fighting!"

"Okay… well I won't say any more." She looked at him sideways and gave him a poke. He saw the funny side of it and the two of them started to laugh. As they reached the car park, they didn't see Kathleen Hendley coming around the corner with a group of friends from bingo. Kathleen however, saw them and wondered what was going on. Father Vincent Sheahan and Avril Burke out late in Cilldargan, arm in arm no less. She looked around and saw the rest of the AA people leaving the hall. Kathleen didn't know what the crowd was for but it seemed obvious to her that the two had just come from there.

"What's going on over there?" she asked one of her friends who lived in Cilldargan.

"Isn't that the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting?" answered another.

"Oh?" Nobody discussed it further as it wouldn't be right but that didn't stop the information filling Kathleen's mind. It would've been harder for her eyes to get any bigger. She quickly put two and two together and got a very sizable four when it came to Avril but Father Sheahan!! She couldn't believe it. As her friends were passing the car park she pulled he hat a little further down so she wouldn't be spotted. By now the two had reached their respective cars and Avril was just driving off. Kathleen would have to wait until she was alone to digest this piece of news. She didn't know which was bigger – Vincent and Avril being on awfully friendly terms, Avril as an alcoholic and possibly even Vincent! This was huge.

Avril had invited Vincent back to the yard after the meeting so he followed her along the road. Once she had checked on the horses she went inside and put the kettle on for tea. Vincent felt that if she was going to say anything, she would say it now. However, even though the conversation did turn to the subject Avril was saying nothing. After a while he began to fell that maybe he had it wrong. Just because he used `fine' as a defence mechanism didn't mean that Avril did. Maybe she had spilt some sort of chemical for the horses in the van, maybe she was sick that day Edso saw her in Wicklow. It was a lot of maybes but it was either that or she was a damn good liar. The clock chimed eleven thirty and he needed to be getting home so they said their goodbyes.

"Thanks for being concerned about me Vincent. I'm glad you're here," she said giving him a hug at the door.

"As long as you don't forget that, we'll be okay," he said hugging her back. "Go on back inside, it's freezing out. I'll pull the gate after me. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, watch out for ice on the road! Safe home." He flashed the headlights at her and drove away, hopping out of the car quickly to pull the gate closed. He drove carefully back to the village as Avril was right, he could see the frost glistening on the surface of the road. As he'd been told, it was the bits that you couldn't see, black ice, that made it dangerous. He took his time and reached the door without any mishaps. Once inside he noticed that Frankie must still be up and the TV was on. He went into the sitting room and found her stretched out on the couch, fast asleep surrounded by files, paper and a cup which was perched precariously beside her. One file was still in her hand and the other was resting on the floor beside a pen. He rescued the cup and brought it into the kitchen. Then he went back into the room to wake her up. If she stayed there all night, she'd have a crick in her neck in the morning as she had it resting against the arm of the couch.

"Frankie… yoohooo…" he said, close to her. She didn't move so he said it louder and still to no avail. "Hey Frankie! Wake up!" This time it was much louder.

"Wha'?" she sat up startled. "Whatzz wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Go to bed. It's late and you'll be sore if you stay there."

"What?" She was definitely not with it just yet. She blinked, rubbed her eyes and looked around. "Aww damnit! I fell asleep!"

"I'll say. Did you enjoy your film?"

"Yes I did, chick flick or not." She was interrupted by a large yawn. "Good meeting?"

"Yeah it was thanks. Do you want hand to tidy this up?"

"Oh cheers. Just grab what you can and dump it in the office." He followed her example and soon the floor was clear.

"What were you doing?"

"Marking probation records from Cilldargan. It's such boring work and as I fell asleep I didn't get it finished, so I'll have to do it in the morning before they come to pick them up."

"It makes for a long day if you have to do that on top of your own work."

"Well, I don't have to do it everyday," again a yawn interrupted her.

"Goodnight Frankie, go to bed before you fall down." He turned her in the direction of the stairs. "I'll switch everything off down here and lock up. Alarm on or off?"

"Off, not necessary to put it on. Thanks Vincent. Goodnight." She yawned again.

"Night Frankie, see you in the morning." He closed the office and switched off all the lights and appliances before he went to bed himself. He felt a bit better about Avril now and was glad that she turned up to the meeting tonight. Little did he know what was in store.

Three weeks passed uneventfully but that didn't mean that the gossip mill hadn't started working full force. It just took it a little while before anyone directly connected with Vincent heard the news. The main story was that there was more to the relationship between Vincent and Avril than normal and that Avril had a serious drinking problem. As far as the gossipers were concerned, Vincent didn't have a drink problem, he was only helping Avril as a `friend'. The first to hear of it was Óonagh one day in the supermarket and she dismissed it out of hand.

"Even if she did have a drink problem, so what? She was coming out of AA for God's sake! Show a bit of compassion. And there's nothing going on with her and Father Sheahan. I would know, after all he stayed with us for ages." Her patriotic speech fell on deaf ears however. Edso heard the story too and wasn't all that surprised. He had his own suspicions but was not about to contribute any thoughts of his own. Eventually it was brought to Frankie's attention in the afternoon by her aunt Sheelagh.

"It's all over the town. I'm just telling you what I've heard."

"Well it's rubbish! And you should know that!"

"Which part is rubbish?"

"All of it! Sheelagh why are you asking me this? Do you want me to confirm malicious gossip?" She was upset over this, after all Vincent and Avril were two of her close friends. "This is the one reason why I hate small towns. Everything gets blown out of proportion and people always end up getting hurt. Please don't be a party to this kind of thing. They're my friends!"

"Don't think I'll be passing it on Frankie. I just thought you should know, maybe even tell Father Sheahan.

"Yeah, like that wouldn't be one awkward conversation. `Excuse me Vincent, but I was just wondering if you and Avril have something going on?' There's nothing behind this gossip so just forget about it Sheelagh. It's the best thing to do." Sheelagh agreed and they didn't speak of it again but it still weighed heavily on Frankie's mind. She knew that there was nothing to the `secret relationship' part of the story but she wasn't so sure about Avril. It wasn't the first time she heard about it but again she decided that if Avril wanted to tell her then she'd do it in her own time. As her friend, Frankie would do all she could to stamp on any gossip. She got a chance later that same evening when she went to the shop to buy some milk for the morning. As she entered the shop Kathleen was talking to one of her friends. Frankie went over to the dairy section and said hello to Siobhan who was picking out yoghurts for Aisling. The two ladies raised the tone of their voices, hoping to draw Frankie over to join in, as she could be an invaluable source. They picked the wrong person, as they should have known. Frankie could hold it in no longer and walked smartly over to the two gossips.

"You know Ms Hendley and Mrs McCarthy, if you had any decency you would remember that you are talking about our parish curate and another highly respected member of this community. Both of whom happen to be personal friends of mine. I also thought Ms Hendley, that you consider yourself to be a friend of Father Sheahan's."

"I must say, for someone who is lecturing us on morals, what business is it of yours what I was saying to my friend in a private conversation?" said Mrs McCarthy, who had marginally less sense than Kathleen.

"If that was a private conversation Mrs McCarthy," said Frankie icily, levelling the woman with one of her stares, "then may I advise you to moderate your tone so you cannot be overheard? May I also strongly suggest that you take heed of how you speak to me." Frankie handed over the money to Kathleen for the milk and accepted her change. "Remember what I have said. This stops here and it stops now. Understood?"

"Yes Guard Sullivan," said Kathleen, recognising that she had crossed the line with Frankie.

"Yes Guard," echoed Mrs McCarthy, timidly. With that Frankie turned on her heel and left the shop. Siobhan quickly paid for her groceries and hurried after Frankie. She caught up with her just as she was putting the key in the door.

"Fair play to ya' Frankie. Those two had it coming to them. Well done."

"Somebody had to stop it Siobhan."

"Many have tried Frankie but it needed that final push to kill it off. I've never seen Mina McCarthy reduced to the size of a flea before." Siobhan said goodbye and went inside the pub to get Brendan. Frankie unlocked the door and discovered she was home before Vincent. She hoped that what Siobhan said was true and that was the end of it. She changed out of her uniform and got into her jeans and a jumper. She was just setting the table when she heard Vincent arrive.

"Frankie?" he called.

"In the kitchen!"

"Hi," he said brightly, coming in.

"Hello, what's got you so smiley?" she answered looking at him.

"I was just speaking to Siobhan and it seems I owe you a big thank you for stomping on the rumour mill."

"Oh, err… I didn't know you knew about-"

"Heard it earlier today. You?"

"Today too, Sheelagh told me."

"What was it Siobhan said - you reduced Mina to the size of a flea?"

"She asked for it as did Kathleen. Why do they gossip about people? It's not fair," she said, hurt for her friends and hurt for herself, having been there before.

"Because they have nothing better to do. As long as those who care stand up to them, they'll stop. Thank you anyway. Can I give you a hand there?"

"No, you're fine, I'm just done" she said with a smile. "A good days work all round, wouldn't you say?"

"I would indeed. I'm sure Avril would be happy to know what-"

"There's no need to tell her about it. Maybe she didn't even hear what was said," interrupted Frankie as she handed him his dinner.

"Maybe, although in a place like this I'm sure she's already heard it, chapter and verse. Thanks," he said, taking the plate from her.

"Normally, I'd agree but Avril's keeping herself to herself these days. I haven't seen much of her at all."

"Me neither." His answer surprised her.

"I'd have thought you would've seen her."

"Not since the meeting in Cilldargan two weeks-" He stopped abruptly and looked at her. Frankie stared back with an indecipherable look on her face, her hand holding the fork was frozen in midair. Vincent knew it, he'd `let the cat out of the bag', so to speak. "Oh, look, Frankie… just... emm..."

"It's forgotten. Don't say anything more." She got up from the table and opened the fridge, rummaging around for something to drink.

"It's not that I don't trust you, please don't misunderstand, it's just…" he trailed off again. Why the hell didn't he think before he spoke?

"Vincent, I know about it or at least I suspect, already. I just would prefer not to talk about it until she tells me directly. So, don't worry about it. Let's just forget it, okay?" She put some orange juice on the table and closed the fridge behind her.

"Okay," he agreed, much relieved. He changed the subject. "Are you still going to Dublin at the weekend?"

"Yep, you still want to come along?"

"I would, thanks. When are you leaving?"

"I thought I'd leave on Friday night so I could get into the city centre early in the morning. The Christmas shoppers will be out in full force if I leave it much longer and I don't have another weekend off before then anyway. So, will I tell my Mum we'll be arriving on Friday?"

"Oh, hey, no, it's fine. You go and spend time with your family. I'll go to Wicklow or something." He didn't want to put Charlie and Bríd, her parents, to any trouble.

"Don't be daft. Mum and Dad want you to stay. Sure, haven't you spoken to them on the phone? Plus, I told Rob you were coming and he said he'd take you to a good shop." Robert, or Rob as he was known, was Frankie's youngest brother, who kept threatening to visit his sister but hadn't yet figured out how to leave Dublin. As far as he was concerned, if he was beyond the city limits, he was in the land before time. Vincent knew about him from the various tales Frankie had told him and from the odd telephone call. While the rest of Frankie's family spoke clearly, Rob had, to Vincent, a most incomprehensible Dublin accent and he always began every phone conversation with `wha's de storeee, head?' Vincent thought it was his nickname for Frankie until she explained that Rob called everyone `head', regardless.

"Well, if it's okay with them, that'd be great, cheers. Will you translate Rob-speak for me?" he asked laughing.

"After a few hours of his incessant chatter, you'll be fine! You might even end up speaking like him," she said with a grin.

"I don't know about that. The Aussie accent hasn't faded one bit, even after all this time."

"We'll see. Rob can be … relentless… to say the least. Anyway, I reckon if we leave for Dublin at nine we should arrive easily by ten. What do you think?"

"Isn't that a bit late?"

"Yeah, but if we go earlier then we'll be caught in Friday evening traffic."

"That's true. Hey, can't we go in the squad car? No traffic problems that way!" he said, joking.

"Don't I just wish! I'm taking Sheelagh's car. She can't use it anymore, so I borrow it now and again." She just finished the sentence when the phone rang and she reached out to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hi Frankie."

"Avril!" Frankie looked at Vincent and raised her eyebrows. "Where've you been keeping yourself these days?"

"Ah, I've just been busy at the yard. What are you doing for lunch tomorrow? Are you free?"

"Sure am. Where'll I meet you?"

"Would you make it too that new coffee place in Cilldargan?"

"Just. See you there at quarter past one?"

"That'll be great. We'll catch up then. Is Vincent there?"

"Just finishing his dinner. You want a word?"

"Please. See you tomorrow Frankie."

"Yeah, bye Avril. Here he is." She handed the receiver to him.

"Hey Avril, what's up?"

"Nothing, just rang to say hi. I've been a bit busy lately, so I missed the meetings."

"I noticed. Look, you can decide what's best, no point in me hassling you, is there?"

"I know you can't talk about it now. Anyway, I'm going to tell Frankie tomorrow."

"You should. It will help."

"Okay. Well, see you around Charlie Brown."

"Would you stop with the Snoopy thing!"

"No way, it's far too much fun! Byeee!"

"Cheers." He handed the phone back to Frankie and she hung it up.

"Snoopy?" she queried, getting up to put her plate in the dishwasher.

"I'm not telling you - I'll never hear the end of it then!" he said, taking the plate from her and sitting her back in her seat. "You got dinner, I'll clear away."

"Thanks! Okay, so what is it? Avril calls you Snoopy or thinks you're snoopy?"

"What!?!"

"Snoopy, as in the cartoon dog or snoopy, in a Kathleen kind of way?"

"All I'm saying is it's neither of the above. And what part of `I'm not telling you', didn't you get?"

"Ah go on, you know you want to!"

"I don't!"

"Go on, go on, go on, go-" She was silenced by a well-aimed towel.

"Not another word Mrs Doyle!" Vincent was resolute, there was no way was Frankie going to find out despite all her wheedling. If he told her about `Charlie Brown', she'd never let it go, Avril was bad enough. He was glad that Avril was going to tell her tomorrow. It was becoming difficult, especially as he nearly let it slip earlier. He decided he'd tell her before her lunch with Frankie tomorrow.

Before Vincent had to go to the church in the morning he rang Avril on her mobile.

"Hi Vincent," she said as she answered.

"Hi Avril, are you able to talk for a minute?"

"Sure, one second," she replied as Vincent heard the sound of a door closing. "Okay, go ahead."

"I thought I better let you know that just before you rang Frankie last night we were saying that we hadn't seen you for a while. Frankie was surprised that I hadn't seen you for nearly two weeks and I told her that the last time I saw you was at the meeting in Cilldargan. I really sorry Avril, I had it said before I realised it."

"Did she know what you meant?"

"Yeah, although she wouldn't talk about it and told me to forget about it."

"I suspect she knows already but I wanted to tell her anyway. I heard the rumour that was going around. Don't worry Vincent, I know it wasn't intentional. Thanks for letting me know."

"Are you okay with it? Damn, I should think before I speak sometimes!"

"It was nothing, really. I should've told her ages ago anyway."

"Great, right then, I have to be off. Cheers Avril, I'll see you around."

"Bye Vincent and thanks again for letting me know." With that she hung up the phone. Vincent finished getting ready and was in the hall looking for his hat when Frankie arrived back from her morning `patrol' as he called it.

"Not too bad out this morning," she said.

"Not too bad… yeah right! Oh, I just phoned Avril and let her know about my comment yesterday. Just so you know."

"Thanks. I'll be seeing her in Cilldargan today for lunch," came Frankie's voice from the office.

"Did you see my hat anywhere?" he asked, searching through his pockets.

"Emmm, I think I saw it under the stairs," she replied. "With the umbrellas." Vincent looked where directed and saw his wayward hat hanging from his umbrella.

"Thanks, got it," he said pulling it on. He leaned over the counter and said goodbye to her. She started laughing as soon as she saw him.

"You look like an Eskimo! What's with all the gear?"

"I've long since discovered that what you call not too bad, is bloody freezing and more than likely pouring rain or sleet or snow or all of the above. Therefore, one fleece jacket, one crap winter coat, one pair of insulated gloves, one woolly scarf and hat to match, two pairs of-"

"Don't say any more thanks! Leave me with the understanding it was two pairs of socks you were talking about there and I'll be happy. Go on, you'll be late! See you this evening," she said with a smile.

"Okay! Say hi to Avril for me. Have a good day."

"You too." Frankie closed the door after him and went back to her ever mounting pile of paperwork. It just didn't seem right that a place as small as Ballykissangel would have a paper trail this big. She sat down with a sigh and tackled the first document. Meanwhile Vincent was on his way to the church when he saw Liam and Dónal having an in depth discussion on the main street.

"Morning lads!" he called.

"Morning Father. Jaysus – where are you headin' for? The North Pole?" said Liam.

"It's cold out Liam, in case you haven't noticed."

"Ahh sure, you wouldn't be used to it at all Father," said Dónal, referring to the weather.

"Too right! What are you planning out here?" he enquired.

"We got this stuff for road surfaces. Stops the cars from skidding," explained Liam. "Would the town council hold a meeting about it? We'd charge a fair price."

"What `stuff' did you get?"

"It's like this fine gravel. It sticks to the roads."

"Well, it sound like a good idea but I wouldn't know about such things. We'll meet up later in the pub if you want."

"That'd be great Father. See you then. It's perfectly legit by the way, in case she asks," said Liam, with a nod back towards Frankie's house.

"I didn't doubt it for a minute," said Vincent, not believing Liam for a second.

"Will Guard Sullivan come too?" asked Dónal, looking at his shoes. "What!?!" he exclaimed after receiving a thump on the arm from Liam.

"Go on, ya' boy ya'!!" said Liam, with a knowing look. Dónal's face went a bit red and he bashfully kicked at the ground with the toe of his boot. Vincent felt like he was missing something here but it was too cold to hang around.

"Whatever guys! I'll see you later."

"Sure, `bye now Father," they chorused. Vincent hurried on his way and was glad to reach the relative warmth of the church. As it was the middle of Advent he had numerous things to put right about the place, trimming candles and the like. He was working away when Father Mac arrived.

"Good morning Father. Glad too see you're keeping the place in order."

"Oh, morning Father Mac, how's it going?"

"Humm, funny you should ask. It's not going too well at all."

"What's happened?"

"I have to go to hospital in Cilldargan with this bloody foot."

"Why? Is the arthritis getting worse?"

"That's what I thought, but the last x-ray showed up something. It seems I actually broke a bone in it a while ago and now it has set incorrectly, so it needs to be put right."

"Strange that they'd take you in now for it."

"I've been waiting for some time actually. It just so happens there's a free space now so I was next on the list."

"When do you leave?"

"Sunday night. I'll be out of action until the New Year, which places me in a bit of difficulty. I need you to take over for a while."

"Take over from you!?!"

"That's generally what happens Father, when the parish priest is out of action, the curate takes over. Haven't you heard of that before?"

"Sure I have! But, wouldn't Angus or one of the other curates be a better choice? I-"

"I asked you. No discussion Father please, just do it. It's not that difficult. Keep the accounts, visit the various places, schedule meetings, answer the post, nothing drastic."

"So that's what a parish priest does."

"Hummm, you should be so lucky. Anyway, if you would come and see me tomorrow morning, I'll fill you in on the rest."

"No problem. Do you need a lift back or anything?"

"No, I can still drive you know."

"Okay then, I'll see you at what time tomorrow?"

"Ten o'clock. Don't be late."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Humph!" With that Fr. Mac made his way back outside to his car. Vincent watched him go and sure enough, the limp was more pronounced than usual. He wasn't too delighted at the prospect of taking over, after all what did he know about running a parish? And it wasn't even one parish, due to the unusual set up, Ballykissangel was only one of the parishes under Fr. Mac's care. How was he going to manage?

Meanwhile, Frankie arrived in the coffee shop to meet Avril as arranged. She scanned the room and saw Avril sitting beside a window at the far end. Frankie made her way over and sat down with a sigh.

"Pheww, hi Avril. I thought I was going to have to cancel. Everything happens at once doesn't it? How's it going anyway?"

"Glad you made it. I'm okay I suppose." They talked for a while about general things, while they ate their lunch. Eventually Avril decided to broach the subject. "Frankie, I have something to tell you."

"What?"

"I know that you have a fairly good idea already, I'm an alcoholic." Avril looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction. Frankie wasn't all that surprised and answered Avril softly.

"I'm glad you told me Avril. I did suspect, but as you'd never said anything, I didn't want to-"

"Thanks, look - I know I should've said something sooner to you."

"Avril, don't feel bad. It's only something you can talk about when you're ready. Is there anything I can do for you? You know, if you need a friend or-"

"Thanks so much Frankie. Vincent has been great but sometimes it might be a little easier to talk about things with another woman. I can't have a `men' rant with him, can I?"

"He'd probably try to go along with it if he thought it would help, you know," smiled Frankie.

"He probably would! How's the living arrangements working out for you? He seems to be happy enough."

"Great. It's nice having someone around really and he's good company."

"He is. You're lucky to be good friends."

"He's a good friend of yours too."

"Yeah, but it's different. Our similar problems brought us together really. With you he can just be himself without any of the baggage."

"To a degree, I suppose, but don't think that we-"

"You know what? The two of you spend so much time denying it, it just not funny!"

"Denying what?"

"Frankie!"

"What?!?"

"You know what! You like him!"

"'Course I like him – I'm not sure what it is you're-" Frankie's face was darkening somewhat and Avril knew she'd pushed too far. Typical she supposed, could they be any more alike in that respect?

"I'm sorry, don't pay any attention to me."

"I won't! Anyway, I thought this was supposed to be about you, not me?"

"Me… my favourite topic of conversation!" laughed Avril. "Speaking of things I'm interested in, what's the name of that new Garda Sergeant in Cilldargan?"

"Oh my God! He's only been here for four days and you've spied him already!"

"The name, Frankie, the name!! Plus any other things I should know." So, they finished their lunch giggling like two schoolgirls over Sergeant Patrick Meehan. Avril felt much better when they parted company, as it had been too long since she had a girlie chat. However, one subject they didn't talk about further was Vincent. There was something there between them but Avril didn't want to hurt either Frankie or Vincent by bringing it up again.

Later that night, Frankie was watching the news on TV when Vincent arrived.

"Hey Frankie!" he said as he sat down, struggling with a shoelace which refused to open.

"Hi! How was the day?"

"Interesting, you could say. I have to take over for Fr. Mac until the new year," he said glumly. "Drat this lace!"

"Here," she said, handing him a penknife. "Cut it if it's too badly knotted. There's spare ones outside. So, what's wrong with Fr. Mac?"

"He has an incorrectly set bone in his foot and has to go to hospital to sort it out. I've been chosen to fill in for him," he explained. He managed to cut though the lace at last and kicked off his shoes. "Anything on the news?"

"Not really. Avril told me about her alcoholism today."

"Poor Avril. I'm glad she could tell you. If enough of her friends know, they can help her. I've been worried about her a lot recently."

"Do you think she's back drinking again?" she asked, saddened.

"I don't know, I have no proof but yeah, I suspect it."

"Well despite the fact that I haven't seen as much of her as I used too she seemed fine to me."

"That's just it. She keeps telling me she's `fine' too and I think it's a bad sign." He told her the story of `fine' as a defence mechanism and how he used it, thinking he was fooling everyone. He also told her about the empty bottle he saw in the rubbish and the other clues that pointed to some serious secret drinking. "The thing about it is, Avril is far too clever for her own good. She'll hide the evidence, go to the meetings, behave normally and there's no way we would find out until it's too late." He sat back, put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, tired. Frankie felt sorry for him as it couldn't be easy to try and help someone who didn't want to be helped. On top of everything else, he now had to step into the unfamiliar role of parish priest during one of the biggest events of the Church year.

"Do you want anything to eat? You must be hungry." She stood up to get something from the kitchen.

"It's okay Frankie, I'll go get something in a minute."

"I'm up anyway and I could use a snack. What'll you have?"

"I don't mind, whatever."

"Okay. Wait here." She went into the kitchen and looked in the presses, eventually returning with a tray laden with comfort food. Vincent hadn't moved and she thought he had fallen asleep. She was just about to turn around when he reached out and stopped her.

"I'm not asleep, just resting my eyes," he smiled and looking at the tray asked her, "What's this?"

"This is what is known as comfort food. I raided my junk food press and pulled out the good stuff."

"I don't think that much chocolate is a good thing late at night."

"Never did me any harm," she laughed. "Here, eat this and stop gripping." She handed him some toast covered with Nutella. "And here's your tea." They finished their supper while chatting and watching the TV. Having successfully demolished half a jar of Nutella between them, Vincent decided he needed a glass of water to wash it all down.

"Oh Frankie, I really don't think that was such a good idea," he groaned as he stood up.

"Nonsense!" she said, reaching for the jar again. Vincent leaned over and whisked it away before she got it. "Hey! Grotty paws off! Replace - immediately!"

"No way! You'll thank me tomorrow when you don't have a headache from eating all of this," he said, holding the jar well out of reach.

"Vincent, there's something you're not understanding here. Women have been doing this for like, centuries or however old chocolate is. We're impervious to all things related from too much chocolate!"

"Not all things – did I hear you saying you needed another hole in your coat belt?" he asked sweetly, as he made his way out to the kitchen. It took Frankie a second or two to process what he'd just said.

"Why you…" she stood up indignantly and followed him, unable to think of anything to call him quickly enough. Vincent was leaning against the counter laughing at her attempts to think of an appropriate curse. She glowered in his direction and all of a sudden burst out laughing herself.

"What?" he asked.

"Take a look in the mirror, you chocoholic you!" Sure enough, he had the remnants of Nutella spread across one cheek. "And you had the nerve to lecture me!"

"I was merely looking out for your welfare," he said, wiping it away. "Can't have you arriving home to your parents suffering from choc withdrawal can I?"

"Whatever!"

"Indeed. By the way, do you know anything about a revolutionary road surface that'll stop cars from skidding?" He retrieved the tray from the sitting room and was loading plates into the dishwasher as Frankie set the table for the morning.

"Say that again!?!" said Frankie, not expecting the conversation change.

"There was an impromptu town council meeting tonight where Liam and Dónal had an idea to put this "revolutionary non-slip surface" on the roads."

"It must be that non-skid stuff. What would those two know about that?"

"Seems they have acquired some and would be willing to use it on Ballyk for a reasonable price."

"Right, `acquired' it did they? Where from, the county council yard? Or my personal favourite – `It fell off the back of a lorry Guard – Honest to God!' Sometimes I really wonder about those two. I don't think they're quite right in the head!"

"I was told to tell you that it is perfectly legitimate."

"And I believe it," she said in a tone of voice that conveyed the exact opposite. "It's only the county council who can modify roads here anyway. Not two eejits with dodgy gear!"

"We thought as much," he said, referring to the meeting. "By the way, I think one of the `eejits' has a crush one someone." He raised his eyebrows at her with a smile.

"Sometimes I wish Dónal would drop dead!" she replied, giving the game away immediately.

"So it is true! Óonagh filled me in today."

"I don't know what she told you but it probably is the exact opposite of what you heard."

"I don't think so… some strange story about Dónal tripping over your bags when you arrived and being smitten almost on the spot?"

"It never happened."

"Well, I think-"

"It NEVER happened!"

" `Frances Docherty', it has a nice ring to it, you know."

"Lookit pal, you better drop this subject and fast."

"See that?" he said holding out his hand, which didn't tremble in the slightest. "See how scared I am - look at me shake! The big, bad bossy cop is going to get me!! Ohhh no!!"

"Keep it up, ferret-face! I know secret Garda ways of hurting people."

"Ferret-face?!?"

The next day Vincent showed up at Fr. Mac's house to see what he job-to-be entailed. Fr. Mac had already collected the relevant materials and was sitting at his desk waiting. In two hours he explained the various accounts, records and procedures that he expected Vincent to follow. By the end of it, Vincent felt his head was about to split from information overload. Fr. Mac wasn't what could be described as a patient teacher. However, he dispatched his curate with a carload of books and ledgers.

"That should keep him out of trouble well into the new year," thought Fr. Mac to himself, pleased with his mornings work. Vincent had various house calls to make before he made it back to St. Joseph's where he had to hear evening confessions and organise a Christmas prayer service. He wanted to finish by eight o'clock at the latest as Frankie had already said she wanted to leave by nine. He was in the sacristy when he heard a knock on the door and Brendan looked in.

"G'day Brendan!"

"Hi Vincent. Do you have a minute?" Brendan didn't look his usual self. He didn't sound his usual self either.

"Sure mate. Pull up a chair." He sat at the table and waited until Brendan told him what was on his mind.

"Do you remember I asked you about that vet fella from Cilldargan?"

"Yeah, Gerry Hogan, what about him?"

"Right, Gerard Bloody Hogan." Brendan stopped talking and fiddled with a book that was on the table.

"Emm, you want to elaborate on that?" asked Vincent, having a pretty good idea of what was coming next.

"I just don't know what happened Vincent! One minute she's there and the next I hardly see her anymore!"

"Siobhan?"

 "Who else would I be talking about? Anyway, all of a sudden it's Gerry this and Gerry that. Even Aisling knows him! What am I going to do?"

"Ahh, the dreaded mentionitis."

"What the hell is that? Some bovine disease? Which I hope he has, by the way!"

"Brendan! No, mentionitis is when someone's name keeps appearing in conversations. Frankie says Avril has mentionitis about some new cop in Cilldargan."

"This isn't helping me!"

"Oh right, sorry. Well, first you need to know what you're dealing with here. Is he just a friend or is he something more?"

"He better not be `something more'!" exclaimed Brendan a bit loudly.

"Shush! I was only asking, take it easy."

"Sorry `bout that. It's just… what do I do? We decided not to get married because we'd drive each other mad but that was a while ago."

"Are you saying that you've changed your mind?"

"I don't know! All I know is that I don't like that Hogan and he's not supposed to make my daughter laugh – I am. And he's not supposed to be going to Siobhan's for dinner or taking her out or-"

"You know, it might help if you told Siobhan all of this."

"She wouldn't want to hear it and she'd get mad at me for saying these things."

"I don't know about that mate. Look, remember when you thought she had cancer?" Brendan nodded his head miserably, how could he forget what was probably one of the worst times in his life. "It was a terrible time but it opened your eyes a bit. It made you see what Siobhan means to you. Someone you thought would always be there suddenly might not have been. If you want things to go back the way they were then you have some serious thinking to do."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm speaking as I find here, okay? So don't hit me or anything."

"I wouldn't! Go on!" He gestured for Vincent to continue.

"You had it too easy. You had a family when you needed it but at the same time you could walk out the door and go home at the end of the evening. If you wanted to go out with Siobhan, you took her to Fitzgerald's! A place where the two of you are nearly permanent fixtures! You can't have it all Brendan. If you want Siobhan and Aisling, you've got to make a commitment and stop running scared."

"So you're saying we should marry?"

"No! Forget that I should be saying it, as I'm a priest and all. I know enough to recognise that you need time. By commitment, I mean you've got to tell her everything you just told me. She'd want to hear it! If you stand by and do nothing Brendan, you're going to loose it all because Gerry Hogan's no idiot. He realises what an amazing person Siobhan is. You can't be a dog in the manger, she's not going to wait forever."

"What if it's not what she wants?"

"Then it's not what she wants and that will be hard, but you can't force something if it's not there. I don't think that is the case and I don't think that's what you fear either. You have to go for it mate – tell her sooner rather than later. Don't pile on the pressure or you'll ruin it, give yourself and Siobhan time and see what happens." Vincent looked at Brendan who was still fiddling with the book but seemed a bit more cheerful.

"I can do this! It's just… huge…"

"It is, but you've gotta do it or you'll never know what you could've had."

"Thanks for the advice and for the listening ear! She's going home to her mothers for the weekend and I've got Aisling, so I should wait until next week. Gives me the weekend to think it over anyway. You want to come for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Ahh, thanks but I'm not here. I'm going to Dublin tonight and won't be back until early on Sunday morning."

"Dublin? Will that old banger of yours make the trip?"

"I'm going with Frankie actually, she's taking Sheelagh's car."

"Oh, well in that case you'll be fine. I reckon at this stage Frankie can drive from here to Dublin blindfolded."

"I'd rather she didn't, if it's all the same to you!"

"Where are you going up there?"

"I don't know. I need to get a decent coat so her brother knows a good place. As far as I know, I'm going to Dublin – I haven't given the intricacies of trip much thought."

"Dublin's a big place and it's going to be packed with Christmas shoppers. I don't envy you."

"I'll manage, anyway I have a Garda for a minder. I can't go wrong."

"Well, if you get lost, start walking south towards the mountains, we'll find you eventually."

"That's very comforting Brendan. Cheers," he said dryly.

"It's the least I can do," said Brendan, deadpan. "Thanks again Vincent and enjoy the weekend!"

 "I will, you too. Say hi to Aisling for me!" he called as Brendan made his way out. He gathered the last of his papers and locked up the church. Father Angus from Ballinaclash was looking after it for Saturday. He barely mentioned it to Fr. Mac that he was going away, after all there was no point in looking for trouble was there? It was mentioned in passing and for once, Fr. Mac was too distracted by explaining his accountancy procedures to give it any further thought, much to Vincent's relief. As it was getting late he packed up the last remaining bits and pieces. He had to drive to Ballinaclash first to give Angus the keys etc and he didn't want to stay too long. Once the church was locked, he loaded everything into the boot of the car and drove off. He arrived at Angus' house and mindful of the notoriously muddy patch that was called a driveway, he skipped over the puddles and rang the doorbell.

"What about ya' Vinny? `Mon in." said Angus as he opened the door.

"Thanks mate," said Vincent, used to Angus' Donegal mannerisms. He was ushered into the comfortable sitting room where he had a nice fire going. "Look at you! Some people have all the luxury!"

"I live down the end of a bog road in Ballinaclash – you want to swap?" Angus looked at his friend quizzically. "I could easy give this up for a nice house in Ballyk. You don't know how well you have it boy."

"Good point. Even though the house isn't mine."

"You poor man, my heart's bleeding for you" said Angus. "So anyway, what's all this about you being the boss `round these parts for a while?"

"You've heard huh?"

"'Deed I have. Rather you than me."

"I think he picked me `cause he thinks I'm trouble," said Vincent, looking for a vote of support.

"Well, he's right there. This'll keep you on your toes. Do you the world of good, so it will."

"Oh cheers, thanks Father Perfect!"

"No problem, isn't that what a curate is for?"

"No, a curate is someone who'll cover for me while I'm in Dublin as he already agreed to do," said Vincent, plonking the church keys on the table.

"I can do more than that. Take Sunday as well Vinny, I'll look after the mass."

"Oh, I wouldn't ask you to do that Angus, thanks."

"I know you didn't ask but consider it a thank you for not roping me into helping with the books. What's the point in racing back here for Sunday mass? You haven't been away from the parish for ages `n ages. Just go."

"Are you sure?" asked Vincent, delighted.

"Eye absolutely man! Go on, I'll see you Monday."

"Excellent, thanks for that. See you Monday. I'll let myself out, stay where you are. `Bye!"

"Good luck Vinny!" called Angus. Vincent went out to his car, once again negotiating the muddy driveway which was a hard thing to do in the dark. He was looking forward to the trip. Angus was right, before all the administration madness started he needed a break.