Ballykissangel
Episode 9.6
Dush and Ashes?
by Camille Partridge
Sitting in his airline seat over the Irish Sea, James O'Connor turns to watch
Maggie MacAllister walk down the aisle, towards the small rest room. He turns
back and pulls that same small box out of his jacket pocket. He opens it
and looks at the golden object inside, then closes it again, waiting for
Maggie's return. She comes back quickly, seats herself, and drops the tray
table back in front of her, so she can go back to browsing through the large
book she bought in London. Before she can open the tome, however, James places
the small box on top of it.
"Jim, that had better not be what I think it is! I've already told you, I
won't marry you until I am sure I'm ready, and it's the right thing to do!"
"Maggie, just open it, okay?" O'Connor slides the box a bit closer to her.
Sighing, Maggie complies, and her eyes widen a moment, then turn to the man
next to her.
"Jimmy, that's gorgeous! Where did you find it?" Maggie asks.
"I found it in Dublin while I was there, getting things arranged to get down
to Ballykissangel, when I was first looking for you. I saw it and thought
of you, and wanted something to give you for Christmas, even if it was late.
I know that my Trinity and yours are different, but I hoped you'd like it,
anyway." O'Connor has a hint of eagerness in his voice.
"I do, Jim, and thank you for thinking of me, but I hope you didn't break
the bank buying it!", Maggie cautions.
"No, no, not at all, don't worry about that! I'm just happy you like it.
Can I put it on you?" The silver-haired man smiles.
"Yes, of course!" Maggie turns in her seat and lifts her hair up and away
from her neck, as James takes the golden necklace out of it's box, and opens
the clasp, then reaches around Maggie's neck and fastens it again at the
nape of her neck. She turns back to face him, and he smiles widely to see
the trinity knot pendant lay in the hollow of her throat, sparkling even
in the harsh lighting of the airplane as her pulse makes the pendant move,
each small diamond along it's lines picking up a bit of light and refracting
it back again. Maggie sees his wide smile, and returns it, then reaches forward
to hug her lover as well as she can in their adjoining seats. "Thank you,
Jim, it really is gorgeous. I'm sorry I didn't get you a Christmas present!"
"Now, we've already figured out that I goofed when I sent you that package
by courier, so that you couldn't know I was coming. I left the letter I had
written on the counter when I was shoving the rest of the papers in the envelope,
and didn't realize it until the courier service called me later, after I
got back to my sister's house. No wonder you didn't expect me, I was an idiot!"
James O'Connor shakes his head ruefully.
"Oh, silly, we all make mistakes when we're in a hurry! I'll suprise you
with something one of these days!" Maggie leans forward again and kisses
O'Connor on the cheek. "Say, how is your sister? Is her arthritis still progressing?"
"Yes, but she's going to have surgery this spring, on her hands, to correct
all the twisting of the joints. Her husband and the kids do most everything
around the house, now, but her doctor says she'll regain alot of use once
she's healed. Still, I think she's in quite a bit of pain, I wish I could
do something for her!" Annie Morgenstern's face and hands appear in O'Connor's
memory for a moment, and his worry for his sister is reflected in his face.
"Of course you do! Rheumatoid arthritis is a terribly painful disease, even
with all these modern painkillers. Is Annie taking anything for the pain,
or is she still toughing it out?" Maggie asks.
"No, she's taking Vioxx I think it's called, once in a while, when it get's
bad. She refuses to give up and sit in an armchair, though."
"Well, we horsewomen never will give up and go to bed forever, after all,
who'll feed the horses?" Maggie chuckles, and James joins in. "Is her husband
still running the stable, even though she's not giving lessons any more?"
"Oh, yes, but the boys really do all the work, and the whole family is still
nearby, ready to pitch in when they're needed. Say, how did you convince
'Fritz' to hold out and not tell me you were leaving the country, when you
left Iblis in his care?"
"Well, you know him, Teutonic to the core, I didn't say anything one way
or the other, and he didn't ask questions. I don't think he would share anyone's
private business with anyone else, family or not, and hot tongs couldn't
pry information out of him if a stranger asked!" Maggie smiles. "Besides,
he never even guessed there was anything between us, he's not the most imaginative
of men, you know!"
"You ain't just whistlin' Dixie, Honey!" O'Connor laughs. "I never knew what
Annie saw in him, he's as solid as a rock and stubborn as a mule, and she's,
well, she shows her 'Irish' on a pretty regular basis, let's just say!"
"But never with the horses! She was always good with the kids and the horses,
and she trained alot of good riders. I enjoyed watching her give lessons,
when I was out at the barn, whether I was working or on my own time, riding
Iblis or whatever. My old boss, when I first joined the practice, used to
yell at me for forgetting some dairy herd I needed to preg-check, because
I got to talking horses with your sister!" Maggie shakes her head, then smiles
as James takes one of her hands in his.
"I still count my lucky stars the Bishop let me take that parish, so I could
be close to Annie and Fritz. Then, lo and behold, you and Robert moved to
town when he joined the family law firm, and suddenly I had everyone I loved
close to me all the time. I was one lucky man!" O'Connor leans back and closes
his eyes, and heaves a big sigh. "I still am!", and he lifts Maggie's hand
to his lips, and kisses it gently, smiling.
"Old softy!" Maggie answers him, and leans against his shoulder, closing
her eyes as well.
*****
In Dublin, the winter weather has brought rains, and Assumpta sits in a chair
by the window of her room above the pub, snuggled in blankets for warmth
and comfort. She is reading a book on pregnancy and childbirth, but looks
up when she hears something bumping against her window. Looking out, she
sees a dark shape, moving back and forth on the sill, and stands to go over
to the window for a closer look. Bending down, she sees green eyes looking
back at her out of a gray, be-whiskered face, which suddenly splits to emit
a plaintive 'maiou'.
"Oh, you poor thing, what are you doing out in this weather, you're soaked!"
And Assumpta opens the window, reaching out to pull the small cat into the
room, and moving to wrap it in one of her blankets. She rubs to dry the cat,
and is rewarded with a purr all out of proportion to the tiny body. "You're
so little, and thin, you must be starving!" Assumpta fusses over the little
cat, petting and rubbing until the fur on it's sides is standing straight
out with static electricity. It keeps purring, and is soon rubbing against
Assumpta as she bends to pet it. "So, are you a girl or a boy?" Assumpta
asks, and the little cat turns and sits, looking up into her face. Their
eyes meet, and Assumpta straightens suddenly. "Oh, my! .... oh, you're a
girl, um, do you have a name?" Assumpta's face has gone serious. "No, hum,
well, we'll find one that fits, but first things first, I think you need
some food, you're too thin!"
"Mrrrow!" the little cat answers, then hops up on the bed, and goes to curl
up on the pillows. "Yes, you're right, better not come downstairs, you'd
be a problem in the kitchen, and underfoot in the bar." Assumpta turns, and
heads downstairs, where she greets Peter with a kiss on the cheek.
"Hey, 'Sumpta, you're supposed ta be restin'!" Peter tells his wife, flipping
a bar towel over his shoulder. Assumpta giggles.
"You're getting the moves down, aren't you?" she asks, as she eyes the towel.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Whatcha need, are ya hungry?" Peter queries his wife.
"No, but my guest is. She needs something hot and meaty, then I need to go
to the pet supply store, for a more suitable diet for the long term." Assumpta
walks into the kitchen, Peter following.
"Pet store? Now I'm 'really' confused. We don't have any pets, do we?"
"We do now, Peter. I think my familiar just arrived, and she's a little grey
striped cat, with long hair and green eyes. She doesn't have a name yet,
but.." Assumpta is opening a tin of potted meat as Peter interrupts her.
"Familiar?!?" His voice has risen several decibels, and the alarm on his
face is obvious. Assumpta turns to face him, raises a hand, and places a
finger across his lips.
"Shh, yes, dear, but we can talk about it later, not in front of the customers.
Maybe you'd better pull yourself a pint of stout, dear, you look dreadful."
Assumpta stretches up to kiss Peter's cheek, then walks past him, the meat
on a plate, to place it in the microwave for a short warm-up. Peter's shocked
face follows his wife, and then he gives himself a mental shake, walks up
behind her, puts his arms around her from behind, and speaks softly into
her ear.
"I knew you were a witch before I married you, I guess I can get used to
a little kitty livin' with us, as long as she doesn't mind sharin' ya with
me an' our daughter." Assumpta turns in his arms.
"Thank you, Peter!" She kisses him softly, and the microwave chimes, so she
turns back to it, pushing the latch to open the door. Peter straightens,
smiling. Assumpta takes the smelly stuff out of the microwave, and steps
away from Peter, towards the stairs. She turns back for a moment as Peter
heads towards the front of the bar again. "Come up and meet her when you
get a chance?" she asks him.
"Sure! Ah have ta say, 'Sumpta, Ah'm glad she's not sumpthin' bigger, she
could ha been a horse, I suppose!" Peter's understanding personality and
willingness to see the bright side of the situation have carried him through
a minor crisis before he even knew one was coming. Assumpta laughs softly,
and turns back, setting the plate on the bar long enough to hug her tall
husband, rubbing her cheek against his wooly jumper. "I love you, Peter Clifford!"
she whispers.
"I love you, too, Assumpta Fitzgerald," he answers her, then looks up as
new customers come in the front door of the pub.
As he steps up to the bar, greeting them, Assumpta heads back up the stairs,
thinking to herself, "grand, now I have to come up with *two* names for girls!"
A smile blooms on her face at the thought of a small child's hands carressing
soft grey fur.
*****
At the airport, James and Maggie are picking up luggage and heading towards
the car park. "So, Jim, how long is your tourist visa good for?" Maggie asks,
as they wheel bags down a ramp, heading out into the rain.
"Oh, shoot, I don't know! Oh, Lord, I might already have overstayed it!"
James O'Connor stops in his tracks, but Maggie keeps walking, even as she
laughs out loud.
"Don't worry, Jimmy, we'll check when we get to the van, and if need be,
we can visit the consulate to get it extended. I can call my solicitor to
handle it, I need to speak with him anyway." Maggie keeps walking.
"Maggie!" James hurries to catch up. "Do you know that your accent changes
to match who you're talking to, or where you are? When we're alone, you sound
completely American, but even your vocabularly is changing, now that we're
in Dublin. You even sounded pretty Scottish when we were at your cousin's
house! How do you do that?" O'Connor walks along, his head turned towards
his beloved as he goes.
"Oh, I never really thought about it, it just happens, Jimmy. It's something
we learn, to blend in, to fit in and get along, no matter where we're dropped.
Think about it, I'm a member of a persecuted minority, we *have* to blend
in! And really, you priests do something similar, you get sent all over,
into different communities, and you
have to fit in, to be accepted. You may not shift your accent as quickly
as I can, but you'd do it over time, if your accent was very different."
Maggie smiles at James, then stops at the curb, waiting for a car to pass
before she crosses the driving lanes of the car park. Rain is just misting
down at the moment, barely dampening Maggie's hair, and settling onto the
shoulders of her raincoat. The car passes, and Maggie steps forward, each
hand pulling a wheeled bag behind her. James O'Connor follows, his face reflecting
his thoughts as he ponders this new facet of the complex woman he has joined
his life to.
When they reach the blue van, they load the bags, then get in the front seats.
Maggie puts the keys in the ignition, starts the engine, then turns to Jim
and says "Visa?"
Startled for a moment, still thinking, O'Connor answers "Oh, yeah", and reaches
for his wallet, pulling out the folded document. Maggie glances at it, smiles,
and
leans over to kiss O'Connor on the cheek. "Silly, didn't you remember you
asked for a month-long stay when you filled out the request? Still, we'll
have to come back to Dublin to see if we can get it changed for something
that lets you stay longer." Maggie turns back to the steering wheel of the
van, and reaches for the gear shift,
glancing into the rear-view mirror in preparation for shifting into reverse
and pulling out of the parking spot. A smile breaks over James O'Connor's
face.
"You know, since you're a permanent resident, if you married me, wouldn't
that make me one, too?" He grins wider.
"Oh, you! Give over, will ya?" Maggie and James both laugh, as Maggie leaves
the parking space, heading for the exit, and reaching for her handbag at
the same time.
*****
In Ballykissangel, Orla and Connor are busy, between tidying the pub and
serving customers. They want the place to look nice when Maggie comes back.
"So," Connor turns to Orla during a lull in orders for drinks, "d'ya think
they'll stay together, or will she send him down the lane?"
"I don't know, luv, but I hope it works out for them, Maggie deserves to
be happy." Orla answers.
"She seemed happy enough before he got here!" the big man grumbles.
Orla sighs, "I know, luv, I know...", and she goes back to the kitchen, and
resumes her cleaning. Brendan and Siobhan come in through the front door,
and both seat themselves at the bar. Connor looks at the pair, his eyebrows
raised, and Brendan nods, so Connor pulls their usual drinks, and handing
them each their glasses.
Siobhan glances into the kitchen, notices Orla's activity, and turns to Connor
Devlin.
"So, Maggie's due back today, then?" she asks.
"Yeah, and O'Connor with her," the young man answers, his voice as neutral
as he can make it.
"An' we aren't throwing them a party?" Brendan's voice is ironic.
Orla's bark of laughter answers him from the kitchen, and the blonde woman
soon joins the other three at the bar. "Maggie didn't want any announcements
made, nor any fuss." Orla leans across the bar.
"Well, at least we can wait for them, I'll call the minder and ask her to
stay with Aisling for a bit longer, or will they not be back until quite
late?" Siobhan asks.
Orla glances at the watch on her wrist. "No, they should be here inside an
hour."
"All right, then..." Siobhan replies, and pulls a mobile phone out of her
vest pocket.
*****
Coasting down the last long hill towards Ballykissangel, Maggie glances across
to James O'Connor's face. He has reclined the passenger seat to it's limit,
and has drowsed off. As she looks, his face suddenly contorts, his breathing
quickens, and suddenly his eyes open wide, and he nearly shouts. "Maggie!"
He sits upright, looking around himself, and his eyes fall on Maggie MacAllister's
face. His breathing starts to slow.
"Maggie, you mustn't race Iblis!" He reaches across, placing a hand on her
thigh.
Maggie's eyes return to the road as she rounds the bend just before the bridge.
"Jim, I don't race Iblis, he's not eligible, even if he was young enough.
He's an Arabian, he can't run against Thoroughbreds." Maggie's voice is calm.
"Maggie, I had a terrible dream! I saw you, you were up in the stirrups like
you were racing, and Iblis was running full out. His hoof dropped into a
hole, and he fell, and threw you. His leg was horribly broken, and you were
unconcious, and the vet put Iblis down, and then you died, right there on
the track!" James O'Connor's face is still white.
"Jim", Maggie answers him, "don't worry, I won't be racing Iblis at all,
ever. You're just stressing out because we're about to make our relationship
public, and your imagination is running away with you." The blue van crosses
the bridge over the river.
"No, Maggie, I don't think so. This was too real! I never told you, but my
grandmother, my Mom's mom, she was said to have 'The Sight'. She predicted
I'd meet you, she was bitterly opposed to me joining the priesthood!" O'Connor's
voice is low and earnest. Maggie smiles, but then sighs.
"Well, Bright Lady bless her soul for that, Jimmy, but don't worry, please!
If this was a true vision, then I'll try and verify it, but really, I'm sure
you're just worrying over nothing!" Maggie pulls the blue van into it's parking
spot behind the pub. "We're home!" she says, and shuts off the engine. James
leans over, taking Maggie's
face in his hands, turning her to face him.
"Maggie, darling, I just found you, we're finally together, after waiting
so long, I can't stand the thought of losing you now!" He kisses the auburn-haired
woman passionately.
"Oh, Jimmy..." Maggie answers, after the kiss ends, "don't worry, Jim, I'll
be fine, I'm sure, don't worry. Now, let's get this stuff unloaded, so we
can clean up and get busy, I'm sure Orla and Connor are ready for a break!"
Maggie takes Jim's hands in hers, pressing them together a moment, then letting
go, to pull the key out of the
ignition, and open her door. O'Connor sighs, and pops open his safetly belt
as well, getting out of what still feels very much to be the "wrong" side
of the car for him. At that moment Connor Devlin opens the back door of the
pub, leans out, sees Maggie, and smiles broadly. He steps out, leaving the
door open, and steps to grab
Maggie up in a big bear hug. He then takes James O'Connor's hand and shakes
it heartily.
"Welcome home, Maggie," Orla says, coming out the kitchen door, following
Connor in hugging Maggie and shaking James' hand, somewhat less vigorously.
Connor grabs the luggage out of the van and carries it inside, the other
three following him. He heads upstairs directly, carrying the luggage. As
Maggie and James start to follow him, Brendan and Siobhan stop the pair,
hugging and shaking hands. Aidan O'Connell, having come down the street at
his sister's call earlier in the afternoon, also greets the pair, as do many
other customers. Maggie ends up making the rounds of the pub, shaking hands
and exchanging greetings. Aidan turns to James O'Connor.
"So, James, when's the wedding?" Aidan knows his time in BallyK is not unlimited,
and hopes he gets to be the priest to marry the couple.
"She turned me down, Aidan, we aren't getting married, at least not right
away." O'Connor looks at the younger priest, expecting some shock. He sees
only disappointment, which is quickly hidden.
"Well, maybe she'll change her mind. Or will you be going home, then?" Aidan
asks.
"No, I'm staying, my home is with Maggie, now!" James steps away from the
bar to take Maggie's hand as she walks towards him. Aidan's face registers
some shock as the pair walk up the stairs, hand in hand. Orla looks at her
brother, joining him as he leans back on both elbows.
"Did you expect him to give up the love of his life, once he had her within
his reach, just over a Church technicality, little brother?"
Aidan sighs. "It's not the Church, Orla, it's God's law..."
"Ppphhfft!" His sister snorts, interrupting him. "Let's not go into it, Aidan,
you know we'll fight. Can't you just, for once, be happy for someone else's
happiness without applying such narrow-minded ideas?" Orla stands again,
stepping back behind the bar to serve the new customers coming in for their
pints after work.
Aidan starts to draw breathe for a discussion, thinks better of it, and simply
marches out the front door, closing it behind him, and starting back to his
home, head down against the rain, having forgotten his raincoat, hanging
by the fireplace in the pub. So sunken into his internal argument is he that
he does not notice the
young Garda, her head also down, one hand holding her cap, the other fumbling
with the top button of her coat. The two collide, only their slow speed preventing
them from knocking each other completely to the ground, but still causing
Aidan to grab Frankie's arms, and Frankie to reciprocate. Their eyes meet.
Frankie has studiously avoided Aidan for the entire term of his return to
BallyK, but has suddenly found herself catapulted into his arms. Aidan, having
carefully disciplined
his thoughts regarding a tall, willowy form and a pair of soft brown eyes,
finds himself completely out of control again in a split second. His face
reddens, her eyes fly wide open. They step away from each other, both apologising
profusely, asking if the other is all right. Their eyes are still locked
together, and they fall silent, standing
two feet apart. The moment freezes, then, inevitably, passes, and both lower
their eyes, and carefully pass each other. Reaching the rectory, Aidan opens
the door, steps inside, then leans his back against it, his breathe quickening,
and closes his eyes. Frankie's face glows behind his eyelids, he cannot banish
it. At the Garda
station, Frankie takes off the cap and coat, then steps into the bathroom,
and rinses her face in cold running water. The sensation of Aidan's hands
gripping her arms is still there, glowing with warmth, burning itself into
her memory. Her eyes close, and a few tears slowly slip past her eyelids
as she leans on the edge of the sink.
*****
In the pub, upstairs, Maggie showers, James already having done so. He has
dressed, and is sitting on the bedside. He leans over, smelling Maggie's
scent on her pillows. He smiles, and lays down. The long day, followed by
the warm shower, have their effect, and he soon dozes off. Maggie comes out
of the shower a few moments later, towelling her hair, and sees James, sound
asleep. She covers him with a spare quilt, dresses quietly, and goes downstairs.
Night has fallen, and the steady rain has depressed traffic, so she sends
Orla and Connor home to their cottage, thanking them both profusely, and
sending wrapped packages for them both along with them, to be opened at home
when they arrive. After they leave, Maggie makes herself some coffee, and
settles on a stool behind the bar. Just as she finishes the cup, the phone
rings. She answers it.
"Maggie?" Avril Burke's voice is on the other end of the line.
"Yes, Avril, how are you?" Maggie answers.
"Welcome home, Maggie, I'm fine, thanks! Say, I've heard from the Jockey
Club, and they are willing to make an exception for breeding The Cat to your
Iblis, if he meets some of their requirements." Avril's voice is all business,
talking horses.
"Say, that's good news. What do they want, pedigree, DNA profiles, genetic
testing for disease?" Maggie is curious.
"Yeah, all that, plus, they want a time trial. If he can meet the minimum
time for a mile of the breed standard, they'll register his foal out of The
Cat, and I can race it if I want to." Avril pauses, then adds "Do you think
he can do it, Maggie?"
Maggie's face is white, but she squares her shoulders, and answers honestly.
"Well, I hope he can, but we'll just have to see, won't we? When do they
want to do this? Not until the weather gets a little better, I hope?"
"No, I'm sorry, they want to do the test before the end of January." Avril's
apology is real.
"Whew, well, I hope your track is safe when it's soaked, then! Go ahead and
make the arrangements. I presume they'll want independent witnesses?" Maggie
asks.
"Yeah, a couple of 'em, at least, but I'll get back to you with the details
later, right?" Avril responds.
"Okay, then, I'll talk to you later, Avril, thanks for calling!"
"Bye, Maggie!" Avril rings off. Maggie sits down on the stool, and thinks
to herself "Oh, Bright Lady, is *this* how the Desert God plans to get his
revenge on me for stealing his priest?" Her shoulders sag for a moment, then
she stands, pulls herself up, and straightens. "Well, he'll have a fight
on his hands, one way or the other!" She walks into the kitchen, and gets
herself another cup of coffee.
End, Episode 9.6