Secondly, what was the deal with Peter's car? First he packed up his car with all his worldly possessions and was about to hightail it out of town, but Niamh caught up to him and convinced him to stay for another day (after that little detour to the glade for fisticuffs with Leo). But then, when Peter left town again for good at the very end, he was on foot carrying a tramper's backpack. What happened to the car??? I have scrutinized that episode from beginning to end, and nowhere that I can make out is there any mention of Peter having dumped the car. So those two things got me to thinking. Maybe there was more to the story that we didn't see...

"CONSPIRACY THEORY"
or "What Happened Between the Scenes of Amongst Friends"

SCENE: Fitzgerald's cellar. Assumpta is lying on the floor, Peter is sitting on the stairs. Michael is kneeling next to Assumpta. The others are gathered in the back of the cellar, looking on.

 Niamh pleads:  Please, Father. Do it. Do it for her.

 Fr Mac counsels: I think she'd rather you doing it.

 Peter, choked up, whispers hoarsely:  Just go. Please.

 The others leave up the stairs.

 Peter whispers:  I'm sorry. Through this holy oiling, may the Lord in his love and mercy help you with the grace of the holy Spirit. Amen. May the Lord reprieve your sins and save you and raise you up. Amen.

Peter leans closer in to Assumpta, whispers very quietly: I'm so sorry, but they made me. I think they're hovering around the cellar door up there. They may still be able to see you. Don't move a muscle. Keep your eyes closed.

Peter remains kneeling next to Assumpta for a couple of minutes. Then we hear stomping and thumping from above.

Michael, voice muffled and off-camera: She's down here.

Peter turns, looks up the stairs, and stands up, looks anxious.

Paramedic, off-camera: You've got to be kidding. We'll never get the stretcher down there.

Michael, off-camera: All right, we'll bring her up. Niamh, clear everyone out of here. We don't need any gawkers.

Sound of more stomping and thumping from above.

Michael descends the stairs, exchanges a look with Peter: We've got to carry her up. Think you're up to it?

Peter, quietly: There's no turning back now.

Michael, seriously: Right.
He turns to survey Assumpta lying on the floor: You get her shoulders. I'll get her legs. We'll go very, very slowly.

Peter steps over next to Assumpta's head and kneels down, ready to lift up under her shoulders. He looks up at Michael.

Michael turns and calls up the stairs: Is everyone out?

Paramedic calls down: Yes, Doctor.

Michael calls back up: All right, here we come.

He leans down to pick up Assumpta's legs, looks Peter in the eye: On the count of three, one, two, three.

They lift Assumpta together. They slowly turn so that Peter can go up the stairs first, backwards, holding Assumpta's shoulders and supporting her head. Michael walks next to Assumpta's legs, holding them at his side. They start to ascend the stairs.

CUT TO: Fitzgerald's interior.

All the patrons have left the bar. There is a stretcher standing empty in front of the bar. Two paramedics are behind the bar, watching Peter and Michael's progress up the stairs out of the cellar. We hear Peter and Michael shuffling on the stairs. The two paramedics go around in front of the bar to make space. Peter rises up from behind the bar, stops to wait for Michael to ascend. Once they are both up, they adjust Assumpta's weight.

Michael, to one of the paramedics: Could you come around behind me and close this door? We're going to come around that side of the bar.

Paramedic: Sure.
He slides past the stretcher, goes around behind the bar again, leans over, and closes the door to the cellar. Then he steps back to get out of the way.

Peter and Michael slowly walk around the bar to the stretcher. Michael lifts Assumpta's legs over the stretcher, then moves over to the side and guides her legs down the length of the stretcher as Peter approaches and positions Assumpta's body and head over the stretcher. Then they gently lower her. Michael reaches down and pulls up a sheet from the foot of the stretcher, draping it over the length of Assumpta's body and head. Then he reaches over and fastens the strap around her legs. Meanwhile, Peter comes around to the side and fastens the other strap around her shoulders.

Paramedic: We'll take it from here.

Michael looks at the paramedic sharply: We're coming with you.

SCENE: Night. Rainy. Street outside Fitzgerald's.

Assumpta is being carried out on a stretcher. All the patrons from Fitzgerald's are gathered around the entrance in the street.

Brendan puts his hand on Peter's shoulder: Peter.

Peter backs off and walks away toward the bridge.

Padraig: Brendan.
He points at Peter.

Brendan: Let him go.

Peter walks to the bridge. He rips off his dog collar and throws it into the river, prostrates himself across the stone wall.
He stands up and staggers into the street. The ambulance begins driving slowly toward him. He turns around to look at the ambulance and stops.

CUT TO: Ambulance cab interior. Michael is sitting in the front next to the paramedic.

Michael, to the paramedic: Just hang on a minute.

He opens the ambulance door.

CUT TO: Ambulance exterior.

Michael emerges from the ambulance, takes a couple of steps toward Peter: Peter! Come on!
He reaches his hand out and puts it on Peter's arm.

Michael: Come on.
He puts his arm around Peter's shoulder and leads him to the back of the ambulance. Michael opens the back door. Peter stops, leans back against the ambulance.

Michael puts his hand on Peter's chest: Stay with her.
He nods. He pats Peter's chest and nods again.

Peter moves toward the ambulance door. Michael holds it open for him and places his hand on Peter's back as he climbs in. Michael closes the door and starts walking toward the front of the ambulance.

The back ambulance door opens again and a paramedic jumps out, calls: Doc, wait!

Michael stops and comes back to the rear of the ambulance: What is it?

Paramedic hunches his shoulders up against the rain, gestures over his shoulder with his thumb: The priest wants you to ride in back with him. Think he's a little squeamish about being in with the body. Says you're a friend.

Michael nods, steps up into the back of the ambulance. The paramedic closes the door, jogs around to the front of the ambulance and gets in.

CUT TO: Street. Rear shot of the ambulance driving away.

SCENE: Ambulance interior.

Assumpta is lying on the stretcher, the sheet still over her head and straps in place. Peter is on the seat next to Assumpta's head. Michael is on the opposite seat.

Peter looks at Michael, relieved: Thanks.
He reaches down to the sheet, starts to lift it, looks at Michael, hopefully, quietly: Is it OK now?

Michael glances toward the driver's cab. We can see the backs of the paramedics' heads through a plastic window.

Michael, in a stage whisper: Just for a moment. But be quiet!

Peter pulls the sheet back from Assumpta's head, leans over her, whispers: Assumpta, it's OK, no one else can see you now.

Assumpta's eyes flip open, she screws up her face, infuriated, but whispering: Are you mad?! Giving me the last rites! If my arms weren't tied down, I'd wring your neck.

Peter, amused: All in due time.
He smiles, glances at Michael and then back at Assumpta: And don't worry, I fudged the words. It didn't count.
He looks at Michael again, nods his head toward Assumpta, jokes: I rather fancy her this way, under restraint.

Assumpta whispers through clenched teeth: It's hard as hell lying completely still.

Peter, kindly: You're doing brilliantly. You really had me fooled at first.

Michael leans over: You're doing fine.
He glances up at Peter: Both of you. Amazing performance. You don't want to go too over the top, though, Peter. Take your cue from the others. It won't be much longer.
He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a small tin: Here.
He hands the tin discreetly to Peter: See if you can powder her face quickly. She's got to lose the color in her cheeks and lips.

Peter adjusts his body so that it is between the driver's cab and Assumpta. He unscrews the tin and starts applying the contents to Assumpta's face.

Assumpta: Don't get any up my nose or I'll have to sneeze.

Michael: Now. When we get to the mortuary, I'll have to go and take care of the paperwork. Peter, you'll be in charge of the body.

Peter grins: I like the sound of that.

Assumpta: Hey! It's not like it's at your disposal. There's still a talking head attached.

Peter pretends to be annoyed: Hold still.
He continues applying the powder.

Michael: Make sure that nobody else touches her, or they might feel her pulse.

Peter nods seriously.

Michael: Once I've got all the arrangements made, I'll rejoin you and we'll go over the next steps.

Assumpta: If only I survive the cremation.

Michael: We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

SCENE: Mortuary room interior.

One official in dark uniform stands near a wall. Another official in dark uniform enters and they greet each other. The first official leaves. Camera follows him out, panning over to Assumpta's body laid out under a white sheet. Her head is uncovered. Her face is bluish white. Peter sits on a chair next to her, leaning over as if to talk to her. His back is to the camera.

Closeup of Peter and Assumpta's faces. He reaches out his hand and touches her cheek and hair with the back of his hand.

SCENE: Mortuary corridor interior.

Michael is leaving an office and putting on his jacket. He starts walking down the hall. He sees a hospital worker in a dark jacket: Excuse me.

The worker looks up with a questioning look.

Michael: The priest, is he still here?

Worker: No, he's gone about ten minutes.

Michael looks puzzled: Oh.
He pauses, then: Thank you.
He turns and adjusts his tie.

SCENE: Mortuary room interior.

Assumpta is still lying in state. There is an official in dark uniform sitting in a far corner, writing something on a clipboard.

Michael enters the room, looks around: There was a priest here. Have you seen him?

Official: He left a little while ago. I didn't know who was to take over the body.
He looks over at Assumpta: She was beautiful. Looks just like she's sleeping.

Michael glances at Assumpta, dismissively: They always do.

Official: Oh, no, those that've had violent deaths look real beat up. But she's peaceful. Electrocuted, you say?

Michael, nervously impatient: Yes. Would you mind taking a look out in the corridor? See if you don't see the priest? Maybe he went to get some coffee.

The official looks unsure. Michael explains: I'm supposed to help him transport the body back to Ballykissangel for burial. She didn't have any family, so the church is taking over the arrangements. I can't believe he left altogether without saying anything.

Official: Well, there's no hurry, is there? Maybe he went home to get some sleep. You can always come back during the day.

Michael: Why make an extra trip, as long as we're here I thought we'd get everything taken care of.

CUT TO: Doorway.

Closeup. Peter shows up in the doorway, slightly out of breath: Anything wrong?

CUT TO: Corner of the room.

Michael and the official both turn in surprise to see Peter. The official stands up, holding the clipboard.

Michael, relieved: There you are.
He gives Peter an intent stare: I thought you were staying here with her.

Peter enters the room, looks over at Assumpta, who is still lying in the same position, then walks over to join the official and Michael.

Official tries to relieve the tension by joking: It's not as if she'd get up and walk off, now is it?

Michael and Peter give him withering looks.

Official, intimidated: Sorry. Sometimes you get punchy on the late shift.

Peter explains, apologetically: I had some urgent...business...and had some trouble finding the right door.

Michael rubs his hands briskly: Well, I think we're all finished up here.
He reaches into his jacket pocket: I've got the release form here.
He pulls out a neatly folded paper from his pocket, hands it to the official: I think all you need to do is sign at the bottom and we can take possession of the body.

The official takes the paper, unfolds it, looks it over, and nods. He places the paper onto his clipboard, holds the clipboard with one hand and signs it with the other: Don't you have a coffin or something? You said she was being buried, not cremated.

Michael: I've got a hearse parked around the corner.

Official: You can drive around to the back, then. There's a loading bay.

Michael: OK, thanks.
He looks at Peter: I'll meet you there, Father.

Peter nods: Right, Doc.

Michael hesitates a moment, then turns and leaves the room in a businesslike manner.

Peter and the official both start over toward the stretcher where Assumpta is lying.

Official: I'll help you wheel her out and load her.

Peter tries to brush him off: No, thanks, I've got it from here. Doc and I can handle it. She's not heavy.

Official hesitates: Are you sure? It's no problem, really. I don't mind. It's kind of sad, seeing as how such a young woman didn't have any family.

Peter puts his hand reassuringly on the official's arm, looks him in the eye, solemnly: Thank you for all your help. She was all alone in the world, and you've done her one final service by holding the death watch over her like a brother. Really. You've done your service. Bless you.

The official steps back, nods in a satisfied way. Peter turns back to the stretcher, steps up to Assumpta's head and pulls the sheet over her face. Then he reaches down and unlocks the wheels. He straightens back up, pulls the stretcher away from the wall, and takes position at Assumpta's head. Then he pushes the stretcher toward the door.

The official says: You can just leave the stretcher in the corridor when you're done.

Peter looks over his shoulder on his way out the door: Will do. Thanks.
He exits.

CUT TO: Night. Rear of mortuary exterior.

It has stopped raining. It is dark, but the door is illuminated by a light overhead. Michael is waiting outside the rear door, looking around. There is no car. The door opens. Michael turns his attention to the door, reaches out his hand to hold it open.

Peter looks out, sees Michael, whispers: The coast clear?

Michael nods, gestures with his hand for Peter to come out, insistently: Come on, let's hurry up. Bring her out.

Peter disappears inside again for a moment. Michael holds the door open. The stretcher appears, with Assumpta still on it under the sheet. Peter pushes the stretcher all the way out. Michael quickly closes the door.

Peter flings the sheet off Assumpta, urgently: Come on, you can get up now.

Assumpta sits bolt upright, swings her legs over the side of the stretcher, and hops down. She stretches her arms out and shivers: I thought we'd never get out of there. The smell of those candles was making me dizzy.

Michael: Let's go.
He gestures for Peter and Assumpta to follow him and starts to walk quickly away.

Peter hesitates: We've got to put the stretcher back inside.

Michael, urgently: No time. They'll find it here.

Peter takes Assumpta's hand and follows Michael. The three of them walk quickly away from the mortuary along the deserted street.

Peter: I thought we'd have to fake a cremation. How did you manage to get them to release the body?

Assumpta, indignantly: The body's got a name, you know.

Michael: Turns out a corpse...
He leans around to look at Assumpta: Sorry, speaking in general terms here...
He continues: A corpse can be released into the custody of a medical doctor if there is no next of kin. I didn't exactly have time to research all the intricacies beforehand. This was all rather short notice.

Assumpta wonders innocently: Doesn't Leo count? As next of kin, I mean?

Peter and Michael exchange a startled look, both say together: Leo!

Peter groans: I didn't even think of him.

Assumpta, upset: How could you not? The whole point of faking my death was so that we wouldn't have to wait years for a divorce.

Michael, resignedly: Well, there's nothing that can be done now. If someone does think of Leo, they'll direct him to me. I'll think of something. But everything went under the name of Fitzgerald, so I don't see how they'd come up with Leo.

Peter changes the subject, hopefully: I don't suppose you've really got a hearse parked around here, have you?

Michael, ruefully: No such luck. You're on your own from here.

Peter, curiously: How are you going to get back?

Michael: I'll call Father Mac to come and pick me up. He's spending the night at my office.

Peter: I've got to get Assumpta settled someplace first. I may not be ready by the time Father Mac gets here.
He looks at Assumpta: I guess I can walk.

Assumpta, incredulously: All the way to BallyK?

Peter, lightly: It'll be good for me. Give me an exhausted and desperate air.

Michael: I'll send Ambrose out to meet you on the road once I get back.

Peter, gratefully: Thanks.

Michael: Well. I'll be taking my leave, then.
He stops walking, holds out his hand to Assumpta: Assumpta. I don't know when we'll see each other again.

Assumpta takes his hand, pulls him in for a hug: Michael, I don't know how to thank you.

Peter, wholeheartedly: That goes for both of us.

Michael and Assumpta step apart. Peter puts his arm around Assumpta's shoulders.

Michael, to Peter: We're not done yet. We've got to face the town. Keep up appearances.

Peter: I know. I'm going to try to get things packed up and get out of town as quickly as possible, let you all get back to your lives.

Michael: OK. See you back there.
He nods, turns and walks off down the street.

Peter turns to face Assumpta, stands very close to her, takes her hands in his: Well, here we are.

Assumpta, wryly: A Catholic priest and a dead woman.

Peter: I don't think I've ever heard that one before.

Assumpta: I don't think it's ever been done before.

Peter: I'm so happy, I don't even know where to start.

Assumpta: How about giving your fiancee a kiss?

Peter, surprised: Fiancee? When did this happen?

Assumpta: When I died for you. Just where exactly did you think this was leading?

Peter: Oh, see, I'm actually a closet necrophile. I thought I'd get you dead, have my fun with you, then move on to the next corpse.

Assumpta: Sounds good to me.

They look into each other's eyes. Assumpta reaches up her hand and places it on Peter's cheek. Peter leans in, puts his hand on Assumpta's back and presses her body to his. Their lips meet. Assumpta slides her hand around to the back of Peter's head and runs it up into his hair. Peter puts his other arm around Assumpta as well and runs his hand down over her backside to her hip. They hold the kiss for several seconds, then they break the kiss, both slightly breathless.

Peter, hoarsely: I think we'd better find a hotel.

Assumpta whispers: Are you sure?

Peter shakes his head, clears his throat: I mean for you. Get you out of sight. I've got to get back to BallyK.

Assumpta looks down, slightly embarrassed: Yeah. Right. I think I know of a place where they won't ask any questions.

They turn and walk down the street, their arms around each other.

***Here insert the scenes from "Amongst Friends" from where Michael phones Ambrose and asks him to look for Peter up to and including Carmel and Brian in the restaurant discussing topless waitresses. These scenes also include the one where Ambrose finds Peter in the glade; the one where Fr Mac shows up at Peter's cottage; the scenes with Leo and Niamh in the bar; the one where Carmel tries to interview Peter; the one where Ambrose reminds Peter about the christening; and the one where Brendan and Peter are walking together ("Jesus wants her for a sunbeam"). ***

SCENE: Daytime. Sunny. Hotel room.

It is a no-star establishment. The room is tiny and dismal. The only furniture is a cramped wardrobe and a narrow bed, which just about takes up the entire room. There is a small wash basin in one corner. Assumpta, wearing the same clothes from the night before, is sitting on the bed, leafing through a magazine. A knock sounds at the door, followed by a pause, then two more knocks. Assumpta looks extremely relieved, tosses the magazine down, reaches for the door (which she could open without getting up from the bed), hesitates, calls: Yeah?

Peter responds from the other side of the door: It's Peter.

Assumpta stands up, unlocks the door, opens it, stands behind the door so that Peter can enter.

Peter, wearing that awful big gray sweater, comes in, carrying a duffel bag in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. Assumpta closes the door. She fairly throws herself into Peter's arms. He drops both bags, holds her tightly. She starts crying.

Peter strokes her hair, concerned: Hey, hey, what's wrong?

Assumpta, voice muffled: I can't do it. It's awful.

Peter kisses the top of Assumpta's head, holds her and rubs her back. He looks aggrieved. He takes a step over to the bed and sits down, still holding her: Shh. It's OK.

They sit together on the edge of the bed, Assumpta with her head buried against Peter's shoulder, until she finishes crying. Assumpta takes a deep breath, sniffles deeply, pulls her head slightly back.

Peter feels around in his jeans pockets: Wait...erm...
He reaches for the duffel bag on the floor, leans over, unzips it, reaches into it and pulls out a T-shirt: Here. Use this.
He holds the T-shirt in front of Assumpta.

Assumpta takes the T-shirt and wipes her face and nose with it. Her eyes are red and swollen.

Peter lowers his head a little to try and see Assumpta's face: There you go. You look a lot better than you did last night.

Assumpta, her voice thick from the crying: Well I feel a hell of a lot worse.

Peter, sympathetically: Do you want to tell me about it?

Assumpta shakes her head, looks down, gestures helplessly: What the hell are we doing? I mean, both of us just dropping our lives and taking off to God knows where.
She looks at Peter, points at him accusingly: At least you can still see your friends to say good-bye.
She sniffles, puts one hand on her chest: My whole life is over. I thought I'd feel relieved, leave all my problems behind and stand free and clear to start over.
She drops her hand and looks down, says quietly: But now I think this whole thing is a mistake.
She wipes her nose on the T-shirt.

Peter takes a deep breath, asks tentatively: You mean us?
He holds his breath.

Assumpta looks at Peter deeply, with feeling: Not us. But all...
She gestures and looks around the room: this.

Peter exhales, relieved, looks around the room: Well, I admit, given the choice, I might pick death over a life in this room.
He looks at Assumpta: And maybe we did act a little rashly. Maybe we could have done things differently. But what's done is done.
He strokes her hair: Let's not dwell on the past, let's pick up and move on. This here is just temporary. Just for today. I'm going to talk to Father Mac now, then I'll head back to BallyK and pack up the rest of what we'll need. I'll be back to get you by this evening, I promise.
He looks deeply into her eyes, speaks full of emotion: Assumpta, you are my whole life. You have been for months, but now I can truly devote myself to you entirely.

Assumpta: Oh, God, Peter, I just want everything to be over. I just want to live my life and not have to justify myself to anyone.

Peter: And that's what we're going to do.

Assumpta, regretfully: I do feel bad for putting all of my friends through this grief. How are they doing?

Peter, attempting to be tactful: Well. They're getting on with things. Except for the pub, everyone's open for business. Padraig's garage, Kathleen's shop, the school, Brian and his boys are working overtime to get everything ready for their grand opening tonight...

Assumpta, sarcastically: Well, well, well. Life goes on.

Peter admits: I haven't spoken to Niamh yet. Although I did see Ambrose, and all that was on his mind was whether I would be ready to perform Kieran's christening tomorrow.

Assumpta, hotly: The nerve! I'd like to know what would send that lot into mourning. Maybe if Eastenders went off the air. Maybe I am glad to be rid of them after all.

Peter, reluctantly: And something else. Two things, actually. A reporter's shown up. And Leo.

Assumpta, alarmed: What do you mean? Leo came with a reporter? Do they suspect anything?

Peter: As near as I can figure out, the two of them are here independently. And the only thing anyone might suspect is that something was going on between us before. Your death is being accepted without question. The reporter's from The Enquirer. She seems to have stumbled into town accidentally and got wind of the story. She's been nosing around, trying to drum up a scandal. I don't know what the others have been telling her, but she tried to draw me out. She's certainly heard something.
He reassures Assumpta: About us, not about your death being faked. And I can't imagine what Leo's doing here. He must have heard about all the events of last night, if not before his arrival, then certainly by now. I almost ran into him when I went over to the pub this morning to pick up your things. I had to hide in one of the guest rooms, then sneak out through the kitchen when he went into your room. I hope he doesn't notice some of your things are missing.

Assumpta, dismissively: He won't. He wasn't that interested in the details.

Peter looks down at the duffel bag: I tried to only take the absolute essentials. Your passport, family photo album, a change of clothes, and I bought a new toothbrush and things.
Sheepishly: Thought they might notice if your toothbrush were missing. Take a look and see if there's anything else you need that I can still pick up.

Assumpta smiles wanly, looks down at the crumpled up T-shirt she is holding, wryly: A fresh T-shirt, for one.

Peter smiles, puts his arm around Assumpta's shoulder and gives her a squeeze: There's our old Assumpta. Now here's some food.
He reaches over and picks up the shopping bag, rummages through it: Milk, instant coffee, tea bags, juice, bread, cheese, apples...anyway, I think it'll tide you over.

Assumpta peeks into the bag, only half joking: What, no beer?

Peter puts one hand under Assumpta's chin and caresses it: Chin up.
He looks into her eyes: I love you.
He leans over and kisses her gently, then leans his forehead against hers: I've got to go. Lots of loose ends to tie up.
He waits, seems loathe to leave.

Assumpta leans over and kisses Peter hard: Don't leave me alone. Sitting alone in this coffin feels like I really am dead.

Peter returns her kisses, runs his hands down her arms, looks up and down her body, appreciatively: Oh, you're not dead, believe me.
He holds her face between his hands and continues to kiss her while he stands up: I'll be back as soon as possible.
He stands all the way up, points his finger at Assumpta, intently: Hold that thought.

Assumpta tries to smile: Hurry.

Peter opens the door, steps out, puts his head back into the room, quickly: I love you.

Assumpta looks sad, whispers: Me too.

Peter closes the door and leaves.

SCENE: Daytime. Father Mac's place in Cilldargan exterior.

Father Mac gets out of his car, closes the door: There was no need to come into Cilldargan, Father.
He passes Peter standing on the sidewalk, walks toward the door of the building.

Peter: Sanctuary.
He turns to follow Father Mac up the stairs.

Father Mac: Angry husband?

Peter: Widower.

SCENE: Daytime. Mortuary exterior.

Leo approaches the entrance, walks up the ramp, passes a couple coming out. The woman is pressing a tissue to her mouth, the man is comforting her. Leo turns to watch them as he enters the building.

CUT TO: Mortuary corridor interior.

Leo pauses, looks both ways, walks toward another corridor.

The same worker that Michael spoke to earlier approaches Leo: Yes, sir, can I help you?

Leo: My name's Leo McGarvey. The guards asked me to identify my wife.

The worker looks down, trying to recall the name.

Leo: Assumpta Fitzgerald.

The worker remembers: Ah yeah, that's all right, Mr. McGarvey. The priest already has.

Leo stares at him.

The worker, helpfully: Father Clifford.

Leo turns and walks away.

The worker turns and starts back down the corridor he came from.

Leo (voice off-camera): Excuse me!

The worker turns around again, looks up expectantly.

Leo returns: Sorry, but did the priest take my wife's body as well?

Worker, anxiously: Yes, sir, we were under the impression that she had no family. He and the doctor said they were taking her back to Ballykissangel for burial. I hope everything's in order?

Leo, more to himself: He won't get away with it that easily.

***Here insert original scenes from "Amongst Friends" from Carmel and Brian's last scene in the restaurant up to and including Ambrose and Niamh in their kitchen discussing who will do the baptism. These scenes also include the one with Peter in Fr Mac's office in Cilldargan and the one with Leo and Peter in the pub in Cilldargan. ***

SCENE: Daytime. Michael's house exterior.

Leo jogs up the steps to the door and knocks once, tries the handle. The door is locked. He knocks several more times in quick succession, looking around. Finally, the door opens.

Michael looks out, looks slightly surprised: Leo. How can I help you?

Leo, flatly: I heard you've got my wife.

Michael steps back from the door: Come in.

CUT TO: Michael's office interior.

Leo is standing threateningly in the middle of the room. Michael closes the door behind himself, steps around Leo toward his desk.

Michael gestures in passing to an empty chair, friendly: Have a seat.

Leo, darkly: I'll stand, thanks.

Michael walks around his desk to sit behind it, leans forward with his elbows on the desk top, looks up at Leo expectantly.

Leo, threateningly: Where's my wife's body.

Michael nods, presses his lips together, looks down, sympathetically: I'm terribly sorry, Leo.
He looks up at Leo again, sits back in his chair: We'd never have stepped in like we did if we'd thought that you'd want to make any arrangements yourself.

Leo steps up to the desk, pokes his finger at the desk top, accusatory: And why didn't you? Why is it that nobody in this town thought to call me, her husband?

Michael sighs, gestures with open hands: To be honest, none of us knew for sure how things stood between you and Assumpta.
He shrugs: I guess we assumed you were estranged and no longer a part of one another's lives.

Leo grumbles: I still would have liked to pay her my last respects. Where is her body now?

Michael, calmly: We brought it to a crematorium. The cremains will be delivered here in a few days, after which we were planning on scattering her ashes over the lake.
He raises his eyebrows, suggests: But I suppose you have a legal right to them, if you want them to be disposed of otherwise.

Leo, bitterly: I guess you've thought of everything.

***Here insert original scenes from "Amongst Friends" from Niamh meeting up with Peter outside his car up to and including the wake. These scenes also include the one where Leo and Peter fight in the glade; the one with Niamh and Peter in Peter's car; the one where Peter calls all the regulars and invites them to a wake; the one where Leo leaves. ***

SCENE: Evening. Hotel room interior.

The room is dark, but street light comes in from the window, dimly illuminating the room. Assumpta, wearing a jumper and jeans, is lying on her back on the bed, on top of the covers. We hear a knock at the door, then a pause, then two more knocks. Assumpta raises her head first to look at the door, then sits up, scoots down to the end of the bed, stands up, unlocks the door and opens it. In the light from the hall, we see Peter enter, still wearing that sweater, carrying his duffel bag, a take-away bag, and a bouquet of red roses.  Assumpta throws her arms around Peter's neck and kisses him on the lips. Peter, pleasantly surprised, drops the duffel bag and manages to close the door behind him. He feels around behind his back and flips on the light.

Peter grins: Now that's what I call a warm welcome.

Assumpta squints and shields her eyes: Did you have to do that?

Peter, excitedly: Look. Take-away from a Caribbean restaurant. You know, warm up our taste buds.
He holds up the take-away bag.

Assumpta peeks into the take-away bag: Mmmm. Smells divine.
She looks up at Peter, notices dried blood on his nose, frowns, touches his nose: Hey, what happened here?

Peter shies away, brushes her off: Nothing. Ran into something. Here, brought these for you.
He holds up the flowers.

Assumpta, sarcastically: Thanks. Let me just go get a vase.

Peter suddently thinks of something: Wait. I've got something here we can use.
He tosses the take-away bag and flowers onto the bed, leans over and opens his duffel bag. He pulls out a bottle of wine, pretends to be regretful: We'll have to empty it first.

Assumpta, earnestly: No, I think red wine is supposed to be good for roses.

Peter, genuinely surprised: Really?

Assumpta snorts: Yeah, right.
She grabs the wine bottle, sits down on the bed: Did you ever think to bring a corkscrew?

Peter reaches into his jeans pocket, pulls out a Swiss army knife: Ever ready.
He tosses the knife to Assumpta.

Assumpta busies herself opening the wine: So what ever happened with that reporter?

Peter sits down next to Assumpta, starts to pull out styrofoam containers and arrange them on the bed: I don't know. I didn't see her again. Let's just not look at the headlines for the next few days.

Assumpta: That'll be easy enough.
She pops the cork out of the wine bottle: I doubt they stock the Enquirer in the Leeward Islands.
She looks around: Glasses?

Peter looks around, too: Ummm...
He spots a tumbler on the little wash basin in the corner, gets up to reach for it: There's one.

Assumpta, skeptically: How clean is that?

Peter looks into the tumbler, turns on the tap and runs water into the glass, rubs it with his fingers, dries it on his sweater, hands it to Assumpta: Pristine.

Assumpta looks amused, takes the glass and pours some wine into it: What should we drink to? Or rather, what should I drink to, seeing as you don't have a glass?

Peter makes a statement: You're not going to share that with me, are you.

Assumpta smiles, with a twinkle in her eye: If you're a very good boy.

Peter sits down on the floor next to the bed, rests his arm on the top of the bed, opens one of the styrofoam food containers: How about, to the Islands?

Assumpta raises her glass, willingly: The Islands.
She takes a drink.

CUT TO: Sometime later. Hotel room interior.

Camera pans along the bed, showing mostly empty take-away containers.

Peter, voice off-camera, quietly: We also held a wake for you.

Camera pulls back to show Assumpta and Peter both sitting on the floor, the wine bottle in front of them with the roses in it. Peter is holding the glass with wine in it.

Assumpta, surprised: Without me?
Then, realizing how that sounded: I mean, a wake with no body?

Peter laughs shortly: Donal voiced an objection as well.
He looks around, remembers: There was a lot of joking around, talk of your spirited attitude and quick tongue. Some verse was recited, and Siobhan sang a lament.
As an afterthought: And Brian brought Chinese food for everyone.

Assumpta, dryly: Sounds like a real party.

Peter fingers the glass, regards it, thoughtfully: I think it was more important for them. So they could put a full stop at the end of that chapter. And also for them to express their sympathy for me.

Assumpta raises her eyebrows, indignantly: For you? What about me? I'm the one who died.

Peter glances at her: They'll pray for your soul in church. But a wake isn't for the one who died, it's the people who are left behind that are supposed to need comforting.

Assumpta looks down: I guess once you're dead, you're beyond feeling anyway. Doesn't matter.

Peter offers: Unless you really do go to heaven, and then you're more to be envied than pitied.

Assumpta challenges him: What about purgatory?

Peter laughs, protests: Hey, I'm not in that line of work anymore, remember?

Assumpta continues: And why should they direct their sympathy at you? You were just the priest, whom I couldn't stand. Why not Niamh? She was my best friend after all.

Peter puts the glass down, takes Assumpta's hand, gently: Assumpta. You may have had no idea of my feelings for you, but they did. And your feelings for me.

Assumpta insists, haughtily: Well, I can't stand you.

Peter, with a smile, tenderly: I can't stand you either.
He leans over and kisses her slowly on the mouth. He breaks the kiss, looks down, inclines his head toward the door: Erm...bathroom down the hall?

Assumpta: Yeah, on the left about halfway down. Can't miss it. Just follow the smell.

Peter chuckles, nods, reaches over to his duffel bag, which is also on the floor nearby, pulls out a couple of items, and stands up.

Assumpta gestures toward the duffel bag, without much hope: I don't suppose there are any nightclothes for me in your magic bag?

Peter admits: We'll have to stop and buy you some things tomorrow on the way to the airport.
He points down at the duffel bag: Take whatever you find in there. What's mine is yours.

Assumpta, wholeheartedly: You'd better believe it.
She gets onto her knees, starts rummaging through the duffel bag.

Peter unlocks the door, admonishes Assumpta: I'll be right back. Lock the door behind me.
He opens the door, ducks out, closes the door. After a moment, he opens the door again, pops his head in, insists: I said lock the door! This isn't the Hilton. I could have been some creep.

Assumpta looks up, opens her mouth, closes it, then shakes her head, looks down, smiles: That's too easy.
She stands up, puts her hand on the door, urges Peter: Go on then.
Peter goes out again. Assumpta closes the door and locks it. She turns and surveys the room, hands on her hips. She quickly gathers up the empty food containers and stuffs them into the take-away bag, then drops the bag into the wastebasket by the door. She steps over the things on the floor and opens the wardrobe against the wall. She leans over to Peter's duffel bag and pulls out some articles of clothing, tosses them onto the bed, then picks up the duffel bag and stuffs it into the wardrobe. She rummages around in her bag, which is already inside the wardrobe, and pulls out a plastic bag. She closes the wardrobe. She steps over to the bed and puts the plastic bag on the bed. She leans over and picks up the wine bottle with the roses and the glass. She places the bottle in the center of the windowsill, then finishes the wine in the glass and goes to the wash basin. She fills the glass with water and drinks it, then rinses the glass out and places it back on top of the basin. Then she sits down on the edge of the bed and waits. After a little while, she gets up and goes over to the wardrobe again, opens it, digs around a bit, comes up with a magazine, closes the wardrobe, goes back to the bed, sits down, and starts looking distractedly at the magazine.

Finally one knock sounds at the door, then a pause, then two more knocks. Assumpta stands up, drops the magazine on the bed, unlocks the door and opens it. Peter slips back inside, wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants and carrying the clothes he was wearing before rolled up into a bundle. His hair is wet and he is freshly shaven.
Peter, slightly self-consciously: Hiya.

Assumpta smiles: Hey. My turn now?

Peter looks back down the hall: The coast is clear.

Assumpta goes to the bed and picks up the plastic bag and the clothes, dryly: Thanks, double-O seven.
She steps back over to the door, puts one hand on Peter's cheek as he steps aside to let her go out the door: You missed some.
She wipes shave cream off the corner of his jaw.

Peter: Thanks.
He fingers his jaw where she touched it and watches her as she goes down the hall: I'll leave the door open.

Assumpta, in a stage whisper: I'll be sure and let all the creeps know.

Peter grins, turns to the room interior but leaves the door ajar. He looks around, still holding his bundle, searching for something. He looks on the floor next to the bed, then notices the wardrobe and opens it. He stuffs his clothes into the wardrobe, pulls out his duffel bag and drops it onto the floor. He starts pulling things out randomly, searching for something. Finally he comes up with a small, square jewelry box, a box of four long candles, and matchbox. He stands up and looks around the room. He shoves the jewelry box into the pocket of his sweatpants. He goes to the window and moves the bottle with the roses over to the side of the windowsill. He opens the candle box and shakes out a long white candle. He drops the box on the bed, opens the matchbox, picks up a match and strikes it, and lights the candle. Then he drops the matchbox and slides another candle out of the box, steps over to the window, and holds both candles over the windowsill, the stump end of one in the flame from the other. He lets the wax drip onto the windowsill, then presses the softened stump end of the unlit candle into the pool of wax and holds it there until it is hard. He repeats this with the next candle, then with the fourth candle he makes two pools of wax on the windowsill, and fixes it and the first candle in place. Then he picks up the matchbox, strikes another match, and lights the remaining candles. He steps back to inspect his handiwork. He steps over to the light switch and flicks the light off, looks around the room, and turns the light back on. He picks up the candle box, matchbox, and magazine from the bed and puts them into the wardrobe. Then he glances down the hall and sits down on the foot of the bed. He places his elbows on his knees, folds his hands, leans his head against his folded hands and prays silently.

Finally, we hear the sound of a door opening in the hall. Peter looks up and stands up. He steps to the door and opens it all the way. Assumpta returns, wearing one of Peter's T-shirts and a pair of his shorts. She is carrying the plastic bag and the clothes she was wearing earlier in a neatly folded pile. She smiles shyly at Peter, enters the room, goes to the wardrobe, opens it and puts her clothes and the bag away. In the meantime, Peter closes and locks the door. Assumpta stands awkwardly next to the wardrobe.

Peter looks at Assumpta, indicates what she is wearing, half smiles: It looks better on you than on me.

Assumpta clears her throat, only half-joking, nervously: So who gets the bed?

Peter reaches out and takes Assumpta's hand, guides her over to the bed: Have a seat.

Assumpta obediently sits on the edge of the bed. Peter reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants and gets out the jewelry box.

Assumpta starts to protest: Peter--

Peter kneels down in front of Assumpta, takes her hand, looks down: Now this isn't how I wanted to do this. If I could have planned it, I would have chosen someplace romantic that we could return to every year, but it's more important to me that I do it now. So here goes.
He raises his head, opens the jewelry box to reveal a delicate ring with a small stone, removes the ring from the box, puts the box on the floor, and holds the ring between his thumb and forefinger. He clears his throat, looks Assumpta in the eye, firmly: Assumpta Fitzgerald. You are the most wonderful person I have ever known. Over the past three years, I have come to treasure our friendship more than anything in this world. You are witty, clever, strong, generous, and you don't look half bad.
He smiles at her, then starts to choke up, looks down: We've both gone on a long journey to get here, and right now I can't imagine continuing without you. I love you more every time I see you.
Assumpta's eyes tear up. Peter pauses to regain his composure, then asks: Will you do me the honor of accepting me as your husband?

Assumpta laughs through her tears: Oh, God, Peter, did you even need to ask?

Peter pleads anxiously: Assumpta, please.

Assumpta, happily: Yes, of course. I will marry you.

Peter exhales: Then will you accept this ring as a token of my love and symbol of our bond? It may be a while if ever before we can find a priest who would marry us, but right here and now before God I swear my love and loyalty to you only.

Assumpta, curiously: You mean like a wedding ring?

Peter: Something like that. As close as we may get.

Assumpta smiles, tenderly: Yes, Peter Clifford, I do give myself to you to be your wife, before whatever gods that might be watching us.

Peter slides the ring onto Assumpta's ring finger, then holds her hands tightly and looks into her eyes: Thank you. You have given me the greatest gift.
He bows his head and kisses her hands.

Assumpta gently lifts his face, leans over and kisses him. Looking into his eyes, she takes his hands and pulls him towards her while she scoots herself back onto the bed. Without taking his eyes off her, Peter stands up, reaches over to the light switch and turns off the light...

Shot of the candles flickering in the window. Fade to black.

SCENE: Dawn. Hotel room interior.

The room is dark, but a faint light comes in through the window. The candles on the windowsill are burned down. Peter and Assumpta are lying in bed with their arms around each other, shoulders visible bare above the sheet.

Assumpta stirs, smiles, eyes still closed: Mmmmm. I think it's morning.

Peter cracks one eye open, looks at Assumpta: Did you get any sleep?

Assumpta happily negates: Mm-mm. You?

Peter, incredulously: Are you kidding?

Assumpta smiles, squints her eyes open, kisses Peter: I love you.

Peter hugs Assumpta more tightly: And I love you more than I ever dreamed possible.
He kisses her, strokes her hair: But we'd better get packed up and get out of here before things get busy.

Assumpta looks at Peter, hopefully: And then what? To the airport?

Peter, reluctantly: Actually, I've got to pop back to St. Joe's this morning.

Assumpta rests her head on Peter's chest, frowns: I thought everything was taken care of.

Peter admits: Kieran's baptism. I kind of promised Niamh.

Assumpta raises her head again, indignantly: You're not leaving me here alone again!

Peter smiles, reassures her: No, you'll wait in the car outside of town. The whole thing shouldn't take more than half an hour.

Assumpta smiles seductively: In that case, I think we can spare five more minutes.

***Here insert the final scenes from "Amongst Friends," from Kieran's baptism up to and including Brendan accompanying Peter out of town on foot.***

SCENE: Daytime. Sunny. Country road.

Long shot down the length of the road. Peter's car is parked near the back of the scene, off to the side next to a field. Peter is walking away from us, along the road toward the car, wearing his tramper backpack. When he reaches the car, he goes to the passenger side, takes the backpack off, sets it on the ground, and looks around. Then he opens the passenger side door, lifts the backpack in and places it on the front passenger seat. He leans into the car and says something, but we are too far away to hear. Then he goes to the driver's side. Meanwhile, we see a figure rise up in the rear seat of the car. Peter gets into the car, starts the engine, and drives away out of sight down the road.

ROLL CREDITS