To keep this second chapter of Peter Clifford's diary
reasonably brief, only entries that are relevant to the story of Peter
and Assumpta and Peter's dilemma concerning his vocation are included.
Where he has recorded incidents that do not concern Assumpta, or his feelings
for her, these have not been published.
Christmas and New Year were very busy, so it was good that Fr. Mac thought
that February was a good time for me to have a break. Going home to Manchester
and Mum was good, but I do envy Steve who can afford to search out warmer
climates like the Caribbean. I meet his new girl friend too. She is terrific,
and I am really very happy for him. They even managed to avoid
being trapped by the paparazzi when the vultures found out where they
were staying. I think he is handling all the attention very well, but I
wouldn't like to be in his shoes. I'm glad as a priest I'm not quizzed
too much about my family. I don't think anyone in BallyK is aware of my
relationship to Steve; at least no one's mentioned it.
Mum and I had a quiet but very happy time together. We were able to chat about things we don't tend to do in our letters. We just enjoyed each other's company, as it was too cold to go outside much. She really enjoyed listening to my tales about the antics of the locals in BallyK. I don't know what she would say to Fr. Mac if she ever met him. It's one introduction I hope never to make. She worries about what terrible experiences must have turned Assumpta so much against the church. My letters and these stories help her feel she is sharing my life. Steve rings her regularly, but she says she enjoys getting my letters. She described them as being nearly as good as reading a Maeve Binchy novel. Mum feels that she really knows these friends of mine in Ireland, and said she'd love to meet them one day. I'm not sure that I would like Mum coming to Ireland. For some inexplicable reason, I want to keep that part of my life separate from my family.
It seems so natural to refer to these Irish people as 'my friends'. I haven't kept in touch with many of my childhood friends, nor those with whom I went to Uni. People I met in the seminary were never close enough to be called friends. Mostly I didn't feel comfortable sharing my personal thoughts with them. I kept my thoughts to myself except in formal discussions or debates. I feel so much closer to these people, and accepted by most of them as part of their village.
While I was away, Brian Quigley organised a Slave Auction for tomorrow
to raise money for the BallyK hospice. It's going to be held on the open
land opposite the church. As soon as I got back I was asked to donate 3
hours of my time. I'm going to be sold to the highest bidder; then I have
to do whatever my owner asks me to do. It could be a lot of fun. I'm pleased
that I was asked. I wonder who'll want to buy me? They can have me for
free most days; for confession or a chat or for advice. A thought has just
crossed my mind. What if I'm asked to do something that's not appropriate
for a priest? I think I'll worry about that if it happens. I'm sure everyone
has things they'd refuse to do.
Everyone got into the spirit of the occasion. Assumpta was the first. Brian asked for bids for 'this young, fit, strapping specimen'. There were lots of humorous comments called out. I wish I could remember them all. After a few minutes, I bid five pounds and got the bidding started. I really don't know what I would have done with Assumpta if I'd bought her. Got her to clean my house, or cook my dinner, maybe....?? Anyway I was saved from that possibility as the bidding went up quickly. Eventually Fr. Mac bid twenty pounds for her; way above anything I could afford, and that was that. Everyone, including Assumpta, was wondering what Fr. Mac was going to ask her to do, because it's well known how much they dislike each other.
It was my turn next, I wasn't too sure what I was in for, but it's one way of helping raise money for charity without putting in money I haven't got. Similar to before, the bids started slowly. Niamh bid fifteen pounds, and then Assumpta bid twenty pounds. It stopped here, so I was sold to Assumpta. I was wondering what she had in store for me when I overheard her telling Brendan that she would get me to do whatever Fr. Mac had in mind for her. I felt a little bit disappointed when I heard that. Had I anticipated that Assumpta had something more personal in mind for me?
Someone suggested that Brian should also offer himself up to be sold.
He protested, but public demand meant he wasn't able to refuse without
being seen as poor sport. Padraig quickly took the stand as auctioneer,
and Donal put the rope around Brian's neck. Bidding was very slow. No one
must have been game to try to put Brian to work. Eventually, Eamonn bid
fifty pence,
then Liam bid one pound, and that is where the bidding stopped. Brian
was sold to Liam for one pound.
Brendan was bought by Siobhan. Then a newcomer (who turned out to be Enda Sullivan, singer and lead guitarist in the 1980's band Dark Rosaleen ) arrived and was also talked into volunteering. Niamh, who was the person who'd first persuaded him to join in, bought him. I wondered what she had in mind.
When the auction was finished, a few of us went down to the pub for a pint. Everyone was discussing who'd been bought by whom, and speculated on what they might be asked to do. Siobhan was quite secretive about what she's going to ask Brendan to do.
When I got there, Padraig explained the tradition of the auction to
me. He pointed out that no one has ever refused their owner's command,
and that I couldn't refuse any order Assumpta gave me. They then proceeded
to tell me how the village used to put on an amateur drama to raise money
for the hospice, but that Fr. Mac's idea of acting out the lives of saints,
meant
that the tradition died out.
I really liked the idea of a play. I suggested that if we could find
something that the villagers wanted to see, we'd raise plenty of money
for charity.
"Yeah, videos," derided Assumpta, but Padraig was more enthusiastic.
Assumpta decided that as I was already in the pub, and it was lunchtime,
I might as well start putting in my three hours straight away. So she put
me to work filling the bar shelves, and washing glasses.
Niamh came in with Enda Sullivan. She said she'd bought him to sing in the pub for Assumpta. You can never predict Assumpta's reactions to anything. She was not very impressed, and told Enda that if he wanted to sing, he'd have to audition. Niamh left in a huff, hurt at the lack of appreciation from Assumpta; and Enda was left standing in the bar, looking lost.
A little while later Fr. Mac came in. He was not pleased to see me working
in the pub. When he refused to let me serve, I asked Assumpta if I couldn't
do something less controversial, like turning water into wine. Fr. Mac
was not amused. Assumpta indicated she'd release me if I took Fr. Mac with
me. Instead he dismissed me, and insisted on speaking to Assumpta alone.
I'm really curious as to what he's going to ask Assumpta to do. Whatever
it is, I know she's not going to like it.
I caught up with Padraig this morning. He was thrilled to hear that I liked his play, and even more so when I told him I'd already discussed the possibility of sponsorship with Brian Quigley. It hadn't exactly been the best time for a talk. Brian was down inside Liam's drain, trying to unblock it. The stench was not pleasant, so I didn't hang around for long. All for one pound. Liam isn't as stupid as he sometimes appears I think.
Padraig thought that Assumpta might make a good Mary, the female lead. I had to agree with him there. We discussed who could play the other lead part, that of the priest. Padraig asked if I'd do it, but with all the love scenes, I didn't think it was at all appropriate, and told Padraig so. We decided to go to the pub and ask Assumpta straight away.
She didn't jump at it, but agreed to read the play. I reluctantly agreed
to go along with Padraig's suggestion that we ask Enda to play the part
of the priest.
"We don't know if he can act." I said. But Padraig insisted that at
least he was used to performing, and as he was resident in BallyK at present,
he was local. As we both had some time, we decided that we might as well
go and ask him straight away. It seemed he was busy when we arrived, but
he agreed to see us in ten minutes.
When he was ready, we explained our project to him, and asked him if
he'd play the male romantic interest, the priest.
"Bang up to date, anyway." He said. I'm not sure what he was alluding
to, but I thought I'd better not ask. Enda too needed a little persuasion,
but when we told him that Assumpta was playing the part of Mary, he agreed
to do it. We felt quite relieved when we left, with the main two parts
cast.
Next thing that had to be done was to modify the most explicit scenes. I am sure Assumpta wouldn't play it as it was written, nor could we put it on in the village that way either. Fr. Mac would put a stop to that I'm sure.
We nearly had another hiccup when Brian Quigley called. He'd thought about our sponsorship, and had also a call from Fr. Mac. He agreed to our request, on condition that Assumpta agree to accommodate Fr. Mac's three priest friends who were on a golfing holiday, and for whom he had promised to arrange accommodation in a few weeks time. This was what Fr. Mac had asked of Assumpta for his twenty pounds. She'd so far refused to have the priests staying under her roof, so it was not going to be easy.
We went to the pub to ask Assumpta. Using all our persuasive skills,
and pointing out to her how Brian was up to his waist in Liam's drain for
only one pound, we managed to get her to grudgingly agree. I rang Fr. Mac
with the good news, and he was very much relieved. So now we even have
our sponsorship sorted. Everything is progressing well, with only the minor
parts to be cast.
Things were going quite smoothly, with me as the director when Brendan
burst in to accuse Padraig of plagiarism. Actually it was worse that that.
He called Padraig something like a "Cheating, pillaging, word embezzling,
unscrupulous plagiariser". It appears that about 10 years ago both of them
were writing a play together, but couldn't agree on many parts. In the
end
they had written their plays separately. Then later, Padraig had put
the best of both plays together, and so came up with a half decent play.
I calmed them both down, and got them to agree to be joint authors. While
I had been sorting out the authors, our two lead actors had taken themselves
off to the pub, so that ended tonight's rehearsal.
Brendan and Padraig both wanted to leave all the sexy bits in the play,
but to my relief Assumpta refused to play it that way. I'm glad I didn't
have to face Fr. Mac on that score.
"Not with Enda Sullivan, not even with Jack Nicholson," she said when
asked by Padraig. She insisted that there were other ways of communicating
passion. I would've been interested to hear her enlarge on this, but with
Niamh's reaction, maybe it was just as well that she didn't. It's clear
that Niamh is trying to bring Enda and Assumpta together.
The commotion startled the hall's resident cat, which was seen by Fionn,
Assumpta's Irish setter that Kevin has just brought in. The dog pulled
free, and chased the cat, knocking Enda over as it ran across the stage.
Enda landed awkwardly, and sprained his ankle. Dr. Ryan says that Enda
will only be able to play the part from a wheelchair. Great!! So now we
have to find a new leading man, and as I sit here I can't think of anyone
who can do it.
They admitted that she hadn't actually said the words, but that she'd rejected every other person they'd suggested to her. They insisted that as the director, it was my job to talk to her about it. I was very reluctant. I didn't want her to think it was my idea, nor did I want her to turn me down either I suppose. I also realised, as Padraig and Brendan had pointed out, that unless I did it, there was not going to be a play.
I nervously swallowed my pride and tried to find the courage I needed,
as I entered the pub. Thankfully I found Assumpta alone in the kitchen
mopping the floor.
"You and Me?" she said in surprise when I asked her. I felt quite hurt
by her reaction.
"Do I look hot for this or something?" I asked her. I explained that
as she had turned down everyone else, this was our last possibility, or
there would be no play. I went on to explain how Brian had spent a thousand
pounds on costumes, and Kathleen had already ordered the food.
Assumpta reluctantly agreed to do it, when some guests arrived to be booked in. I heard them introduce themselves as Bishop Costello and two parish priests, (Fr. Mac's friends). I made a very hasty retreat via the back door. One part of me felt thrilled at the thought of acting opposite Assumpta, the other part was listening to warning bells, telling me to find someone else before I made a fool of myself. However I honestly can't think of anyone else. I really have no choice, and to be honest, I don't really want anyone else to do it either.
Our first rehearsal was interesting. Assumpta knew most of her lines, and I surprised myself how well I was able to remember mine. Everything went well until the part where we have to kiss. I was terribly nervous. I had sweaty palms, and I could feel my heart was beating loudly. I hoped Assumpta couldn't hear it. The last time I'd kissed a girl, I was still in school.
"We have one night,....maybe less,.... maybe just an hour..... If it's
a sin there'll be no repeating it", she said clearly.
It all went smoothly up to the moment of the kiss. It seems Assumpta
was nervous too. We were quite awkward at first, I was breathing heavily
and I felt the sweat break out as we got into position. Then just at the
crucial moment, she pulled back
"I can't do this", she exclaimed. I felt sick in the stomach, and completely
devastated when I heard those words.
"Not with all you people there", she added waving her hand around at
everyone standing around. I suddenly felt relieved. Besides Padraig and
Brendan, there were Liam and Donal who are doing the lights and curtains,
and who were watching with amused expressions. To add to the crowd, Brian
also walked in at that moment, supposedly to see how his investment was
going.
I told them that I agreed with Assumpta; that I didn't feel very comfortable either, and backed her up when she asked for a little privacy. Brendan wanted to know if we were going to ask the audience to wait outside on the night? Assumpta tried to explain that it would be different then. They agreed to go outside, and so we started that part again. Brian left, grumbling that he was paying for a rock star, not a priest.
This time things went better. Assumpta said her lines confidently, and
I was able to speak my part clearly. Then as Assumpta took my face in both
her hands, and our lips we about to meet, I saw a movement out of the corner
of my eye and stopped.
"Peter, we have to finish this", she said gently.
"I don't think so." I replied, because standing there watching us with
very black looks on their faces were Fr. Mac, a bishop and two parish
priests.
Assumpta jumped up and ran off, and I was left to face Fr. Mac and Co.
on my own. He made some sarcastic remarks about how convincing my performance
was. It was an unpleasant ending to something I was so much looking forward
to. I was amazed how calm I was in talking to the priests, but when they'd
left my heart was racing, and my breathing was not calm at all. I'm reliving
those minutes as I write. I can't deny that I'm very disappointed that
we were unable to finish our kiss. I wonder what it would've been like.
Hopefully I'll find out soon. I'm getting all emotional just thinking about
it. And yet I know I'm getting into dangerous waters in this. I just can't
seem to help myself.
Tonight was the performance of "Ryan's Mother". The village hall was full, and it should raise a lot of money. I was excited as I put on the Medieval costume. Niamh was helping us put on our make up when Brian walked in, followed by a limping Enda. It seems Dr. Ryan managed to give him an anaesthetic spray like they use on footballers, so that Enda could hobble through the performance.
I felt very deflated. I was really looking forward to acting out the part, and I felt cheated at being denied the experience of that kiss. I changed quickly, trying to hide my disappointment.
I watched the play from the back of the hall. It was very good, and
the audience loved it. However, I couldn't watch the final kiss, so went
outside to get some air. After a minute Fr. Mac came out and joined me.
"They make a strong pair," he said. "He could be just what she needs."
It was just too painful to think about. I realise now that I have very
strong feelings for Assumpta. I've felt drawn to her from the very first
day, when she picked me up as I was walking in the rain. These feelings
have grown
into something far stronger; something that I shouldn't be feeling
as a priest. Assumpta and Enda, that hurts. I can't believe that I'm behaving
like a jealous, lovesick teenager. I will have to take myself in hand.
No one must guess how I feel about Assumpta.
It seems that ten-year-old Eileen misunderstood Brendan's answer to a question she asked. Brendan told her that as an adult, the constitution gave her the right to free choice, including going to mass. He tried to talk to the child's mother, but she wasn't accepting Brendan's explanation. I am convinced Fr. Mac is just using this to get rid of Brendan.
After I left Brendan, I went down to Fitzgerald's, where the regulars
had gathered and were discussing the situation. Assumpta suggested that
we try a bit of direct action, by taking our protest straight to Fr. Mac.
"You're going to have to decide which side you're on." She challenged me.
I decided to leave at that point, because I don't think she understands
the difficulty of my position. She also doesn't know that I'd already been
to talk to Fr. Mac about the board's decision. I can't just go and demonstrate
against my own parish priest.
Afterwards I thought about the unfairness of Fr. Mac's action. I'm quite sure it is due to Fr. Mac that Brendan has been chosen as the one to go. I recalled the time last year when Fr. Mac told me I was being transferred back to Manchester because I was needed back in England. But my information from England was that they were told that I wasn't fitting in. Only Assumpta's petition, signed by most of the village, saved me then. At times Fr. Mac does unfair things to suit his own ends. After remembering my situation last year, I quickly made up my mind to join them, and so followed in my own car.
When I got there the group was quietly standing outside Fr. Mac's house, holding a banner that said 'PARENTS FOR BRENDAN KEARNEY: THE BEST MAN FOR THE JOB.' I parked my car and joined them. To make my position clear, I put my hand on the banner, and stood between Assumpta and Eamonn.
Fr. Mac stormed outside, and spoke directly to me. "What's the meaning
of this? Father Clifford, are you with these people?" He asked me. I answered
that I was. Assumpta shouted out a comment, which was a bit unfortunate,
as it made Fr. Mac even angrier.
"I'll have your respect, Assumpta Fitzgerald." He demanded
"In a parallel world." She laughed nonchalantly.
There were several other people who called out, making Fr. Mac even
more furious by the minute. "When you've finished flaunting your liberation
theology, I'll see you in my office," he called out to me as he turned
and went inside.
I knew that Assumpta approved of my stance, and in myself I knew I was
right. However this still didn't make me feel any less apprehensive about
facing my very angry parish priest. I had good reason. As soon as I was
inside he remonstrated me.
"And on a Sunday too." He fumed. I tried to protest that it was a dignified
demonstration, and that all we were asking him to do, was to reconsider
Brendan's transfer.
Luckily for Fr. Mac, he was prevented from replying by the arrival of Brian Quigley, who was being shown in by the housekeeper. He was brandishing a bottle of champagne, and he'd obviously already been celebrating elsewhere. He wanted us to join him in drinking to Niamh's pregnancy. I had to go, so I bid my farewells and left them toasting the future baby and its mother's health.
After dinner I called in to Fitzgerald's where Enda was singing to the accompaniment of his guitar and a tape. It sounded very pleasant, and I would've really enjoyed it if I hadn't been aware of the way Assumpta seemed to be looking rather intensely at Enda. Also, Fr. Mac was still drinking with Brian, and he'd obviously had too much. I was pleased that Brendan was sensibly sticking to orange juice.
What was also worrying me was that awhile ago I became aware of the way Enda was using his baby-sitter Aileen, who was in love with him. Enda was taking advantage of her good nature and how she felt about him. I don't want Assumpta to fall for such a man. Actually, to be honest, I don't want Assumpta to fall for any man. But I'm a priest, and I'm jealous. I have to ask for absolution and help to overcome these negative feelings. Otherwise how can I listen to others and give them absolution.
On top all my worries tonight, I found that after all the drinking that
Fr. Mac enjoyed this afternoon, and tonight in BallyK, he wasn't able to
drive home to Cilldargan; so Brian let him into my house, to sleep in my
bed. That's why I'm now sitting down here in my sitting room writing this
before I try to get some sleep on my couch. I don't think it's going to
be easy either, with the snoring I can hear coming from my bedroom above.
Just as Brian arrived, Fr. Mac came down, looking rather worse for wear.
I'd made four mugs of coffee, so we gathered around the table and Brendan
happily told them how Enda's son starting in the BallyK school would raise
the numbers back up to fifty-eight. "Thus entitling the Board of Management
to take back the third teacher", I finished off. Fr. Mac was seething.
Brian looked around the room and muttered something about a rent increase.
I've arranged for the mass next Sunday to start an hour later, but my
instinct tells me that it's not going to make a lot of difference. What
I need is to make coming to mass more interesting and relevant to the younger
people of the parish.
If we're not relevant to people's lives, then there's no point to our
existence.
When I got back into my car to go home I was feeling quite depressed and preoccupied with my problem. I found that while waiting at a red traffic light, I turned up the volume on the radio, which was broadcasting a gospel song with a very catchy tune. I suddenly realised that not only were my fingers beating in time to the beat, but also my whole depression seemed to diminish. It gave me an idea. I turned the car around and stopped outside the Cilldargan music shop. I asked the owner if he had some sheet music for gospel songs.
While I was waiting, I saw Enda there, trying out a new guitar he hoped
to buy.
"What are you doing on Sunday morning?" I asked him.
After hesitating a few moments he answered, "Going to mass?"
"That's just what I was hoping you'd say." I replied. I asked him if
he would be willing to lead a folk mass, and I showed him the sheet music
the proprietor had found for me.
Between us we chose a number of suitable songs, and left together, feeling
enthusiastic about trying it this Sunday. I'm not looking forward to telling
Kathleen, our regular organist about the new style of mass this week. I
will have to do it very tactfully.
Enda and Assumpta left together, to try an Italian restaurant recommended by Niamh. I left soon afterwards, as the pub just didn't have the same attraction after Assumpta left. Also I didn't want to sit and listen to the others discussing the possibility of Assumpta and Enda getting together, as Niamh was hoping. I decided to go to the church and finish the poster to advertise the folk mass.
When I'd finished, I found Aileen, Enda's babysitter sitting in a pew.
She'd been crying, and looked upset. She admitted to feeling jealous of
Assumpta going out with Enda. I knew exactly how it felt, but couldn't
very well say this to her. It tried to comfort her by suggesting maybe
Enda did love her, but was just not very good at showing it. I don't know
if I really believe
this myself, but it was all I could think of to give some comfort to
Aileen. I suggested she talks to Enda and ask him what he really wanted.
She said she couldn't do that. Foolishly I offered to have a word with
Enda. She seemed to be relieved at this, but I don't know what I'm going
to say to him. What if he has even an inkling of my feelings for Assumpta?
I am not looking forward to doing this tomorrow.
Firstly I went to speak to Kathleen, and let her know that she didn't have to play the organ this Sunday. Her reaction was exactly as I'd predicted. Instead of being glad to have a day off, she flounced out, saying something about possibly not being available again.
Next I drove out to Enda's cottage. He was still wearing what he'd slept in, and was practicing on his guitar. I asked him if he'd had a good time last night. He explained it was good until he'd got home to find his son Feargal acting up. Feargal had run away back home from Padraig's, where he was being minded.
I suggested that maybe Feargal needed a little more stability in his life. Enda looked at me very hard, and asked me whom I'd been talking to. He said that he loved his son, but that he wasn't going to let Feargal or anyone else, for that matter, tell him who he should or shouldn't go out with.
I got the message, but felt sorry for Aileen, and also for Feargal.
The possibility of bigger collections seemed to mollify him, and he
agreed, so long as we didn't sing "Michael row the Boat Ashore', which
I happily accepted.
Enda was great. Even Fr. Mac, sitting next to a scowling Kathleen, seemed
to join in by tapping the beat with his feet. At the end of the service
he grudgingly agreed it would be OK to do a folk mass every now and then.
Everyone I spoke to all day congratulated us on a good idea. I hope I can
get Enda to continue. He certainly was the kingpin to its success.
As I turned to go back inside, I noticed a cardboard box by the door. I took it in, and when I lifted the plastic cover, there was a tiny baby. I lifted it out. It was sucking its thumb, and was completely oblivious to the terrible turn that had just occurred in its young life.
I rang Dr. Ryan, who agreed to come immediately; and he was true to his word. After a quick examination he discovered that the baby was a little boy, whom he estimated to be less than a day old. The umbilical cord had probably been cut with blunt scissors he thought, but otherwise the baby looked OK. There was another knock on the door. I said to Michael that I hoped it wasn't twins. It was Assumpta, who was out walking Fionn. She'd seen the doctor's car outside, and wondered if I was sick. I think she was quite taken with the baby when we showed him to her. Michael made a phone call to the social services to report the baby, while we cooed over it and wondered who would abandon such a beautiful child.
I told her that I thought the baby must have come from outside BallyK,
because I didn't recognise the car, nor did I know anyone local who was
expecting a baby at present.
"Not officially anyway," she said, "it wouldn't be the first time that
a girl gave birth in secret. It comes from living in a country where some
people think family planning means getting the kids to mass on time."
"Don't tell me it is the church's fault again," I said, feeling exasperated
with her attitude.
"Well you don't exactly make things easy, do you?" she replied.
I was trying to think of a reply to this, when Michael came back to ask me if I could look after the little fellow until a social worker could come and collect him. It could be overnight he added. I hesitated, then Assumpta offered to stay and help me. I have to admit I was quite relieved, because I felt a bit nervous of having the sole responsibility of the baby by myself all night.
Michael went home and brought back a bottle with boiled water, and some nappies in case we needed it, and Assumpta took Fionn home and returned with some midnight snacks for us. She cradled the little fellow while I made us some coffee. She looked so beautiful holding him in her arms and making faces at him. It made my heart skip a beat when I came in and saw her that way. Later when I'd finished my coffee, I took him, so she could finish her coffee. He just trustingly watched my face, as he lay in my arms. I caught Assumpta looking at me, and I wondered what she was thinking. I didn't dare ask. We decided to put him to bed in the large cardboard box he'd arrived in. Assumpta seemed to know about putting a clean nappy on, and after that, the little fellow was thankfully no trouble, and slept most of the night. Michael had estimated him to be only a few hours old. He was very tiny.
We again wondered who'd abandon such a sweet and helpless little baby. We both felt concerned that he would grow up not knowing whom his mother or father was, and believing that he wasn't wanted. Assumpta described the difficulties of a friend who was adopted at birth, and was trying to find her birth mother. Her friend believed that her mother mustn't have loved her, to give her up for adoption, and had a real phobia about being rejected.
We talked some more about the lack of sex education in some families, and the pressures young people are under today. How the impression they get by watching TV and videos gives them an unrealistic picture of life.
It ended up being a long night, but very pleasant. Assumpta confided that after watching some videotape that Brian had taken of Enda, it confirmed what Feargal had told her, that Enda had strong feelings for Aileen. She explained how she thought Enda needed to grow up, and be more responsible with regard to his relationship with both his son and Aileen. I felt very relieved to hear this, but decided to turn our conversation to a safer topic.
I turned on some music quietly, and we discussed what music and TV we
liked. It seems that neither of us have much time to watch TV these days,
so we talked more about what we'd liked in our Uni. and college days. The
time passed quite quickly, and I'm amazed how we didn't antagonise each
other at all. It must be a record for us. At about five o'clock, as the
little fellow
was sleeping peacefully, Assumpta decided to slip home to get a little
rest. I think she also wanted to avoid being seen leaving my house early
in the morning, and having to answer awkward questions. For this I'm very
thankful. I decided to dose a little myself while it was quiet, but it
wasn't for long as the baby woke up about an hour later. I changed his
nappy as best I could, having watched Assumpta earlier, then gave him some
of the water Michael had left.
The social workers arrived at about nine, not long after Michael returned
and Fr. Mac turned up. Michael had rung him in case he knew of someone
in Cilldargan who was expecting a baby. I'm glad Michael didn't mention
Assumpta's name at all. The social workers took the baby to the Cilldargan
hospital where he was checked over thoroughly. After a certain time, if
his
mother isn't found, he'll be adopted.
After Fr. Mac had gone, I asked Michael what he thought could be done
to prevent this sort of thing. I'd been thinking about it after what Assumpta
had said. I wondered if there wasn't the possibility of some sort of sex
education for the teenagers of the area. Michael thought it a good idea,
and suggested I talk to the Youth Club.
"The novelty of a priest talking about sex should get them along",
he said.
I called into Fitzgerald's to report to Assumpta about how 'our baby'
had faired after she'd left. I ran my plan of giving a talk to the Youth
Club past her. She thought it a good idea, but like me, was aware that
it wouldn't be easy holding the attention of a room full teenagers. I asked
her how teenagers in Ireland learnt the facts of life? She said that she
learnt most of it in the back row of the Ritzy cinema. That gave me an
idea.
What was needed was to capture the youngster's attention with a film.
The problem was to find a suitable film. I went to see what Kathleen had.
Her range was very limited. She suggested "Gone with the Wind". When I
said that I was looking for something that would appeal to a younger audience.
She was quite horrified, and declared she didn't keep those sorts of videos.
I'm not sure what she thought I wanted, but it was obvious that I'd have
to look in Cilldargan to find the sort of film that might interest the
teenagers.
When I arrived there were some boys playing football nearby. I asked them about the abandoned car, but they said they didn't know anything about it. However, there was something about the reaction of one small boy in a Liverpool jumper that attracted my attention. I looked around for a little while longer, then keeping my distance, I followed this boy home.
After he'd gone in, I went to the door and knocked. It was answered by a young man in his late teens. I introduced myself, and said that I was visiting the area, could I come in. He stood aside, and indicated for me to come in. The flat was messy, and full of drying washing and other paraphernalia. When I asked, the young man, he introduced himself as Roy Quinn, and the little boy was his brother Sean. Roy excused himself, as he had to put tea on. It gave me a moment to look around. It was obviously a Catholic family. I followed Roy into the kitchen.
"Do you go into Ballykissangel yourself?" I asked him.
"What would I want to go there for?" He replied, looking a little uncomfortable.
"You tell me." I replied. Roy turned back to the meal he was preparing.
"I haven't been there in ages", he said.
I asked him about his parents. He explained that his father worked
in Dublin all week, only coming home at weekends, and his mother had left
them. I could see that Roy was anxious for me to leave. I didn't want to
add to his stress, so I took my leave, suggesting I might drop by at a
better time. I offered that if he wanted to talk to me about anything,
he knew where to find me.
Sadly, as if an abandoned baby isn't enough, Niamh has suffered a miscarriage. Assumpta told everyone in the bar this evening, so that we didn't accidentally say something that might upset her and Ambrose even more than they were already.
Ambrose has been laid up in bed with a sprained ankle these last few
days. I'm not sure I understand how it happened. One version I've heard
says he slipped on the soap getting out of the bath, but I've also heard
he fell on the stairs carrying some heavy police files. Meanwhile, we have
an ex-prison warden, Guard McMullen filling in. Most people, except Brian
Quigley who hopes to take advantage of Ambrose being out of the way, can't
wait to have Ambrose back on his feet.
When I told her I knew about the baby, she asked me how he was. I told
her that he would probably be adopted. She stated that he'd probably be
better off with a mother who could take care of him. I tried to protest
that if she was taking care of this whole family alone, she could take
care of the baby. I tried to point out that she wouldn't be alone, that
there was help
available for her. She insisted that she was OK, and refused to see
a doctor. She believed that if a social worker found out, they would all
be split up. I left them without finding a solution.
Michael had a call from the hospital just after my talk. Gráinne had collapsed at home, and had been admitted to Cilldargan hospital. I went with Michael, and we found out that their father had just returned from Dublin when it happened. There is a happy ending to this story for the Quinn family, as Gráinne is going to keep the baby, and the family isn't going to be split up.
When I saw Assumpta later, I was able to tell her that 'our baby' was
going to be all right. I enjoyed calling him that, but I had to be careful
no one else was in earshot. It could've caused a quite a stir if someone
like Kathleen had overheard. Actually I'd love to stir her a bit, but with
Fr. Mac being the sort of person he is, it's definitely not a good idea.
When the moment we arrived, and he saw that she was an attractive woman of about forty, he said it was unfortunate, that we'd had such a position up to this morning but ........., and he left me to come up with a reason. I mumbled something vague about parish finances not being there. Fr. Mac immediately backed me up, indicating that the collection was down at present.
Brian Quigley arrived at just that minute, so Fr. Mac asked him if he
knew of anyone in the parish who was looking for a housekeeper at present.
We left them discussing how Brian could use someone now that Niamh was
married. Then as we left, Fr. Mac admonished me for not letting him know
earlier that we couldn't afford a housekeeper, and how this had embarrassed
him. No matter how wrong Fr. Mac turns out to be, he always manages to
turn it around so it looks like it's someone else in the wrong. Sometimes
I would dearly like the opportunity to turn the tables on him; he makes
me so angry.
She said what she needed was a self-service pub, so that the punters
could get their own pints and just pay at the check out. I replied that
that way they wouldn't get to savor her sparkling wit and repartee.
"They can pay extra for it", she retorted.
We exchanged a few other comments along these lines, and then to pass the time, and keep the conversation safe I started to tell her about the exploits of some of the Allenstown boys, who have temporarily joined the BallyK school. It included their skipping school to spend time making long confessions in the church, then being locked in Kathleen's storeroom until Ambrose arrived. They had bombed him with flour and eggs, and it wasn't until Niamh arrived that they'd been sorted out. She seemed to be the only one able to get the six boys under control. I told Assumpta how we hoped helping out at the school might give Niamh something else to occupy her mind, and her get over the loss of the baby.
Assumpta opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses.
"Who needs extra staff when you have the intercession of the church",
she said flippantly.
"Don't start relying on me", I warned, "I'm not the reliable type."
"You're more reliable than most of them", she said, "You're the only
one who gives a damn". She had probably already had a bit too much to drink,
and was obviously feeling despondent and depressed. I had a feeling she
might say something she'd regret later, so I changed the subject.
"So what was this terrible thing that Niamh said to you?" I asked
"When? Oh that", she said. It was something about
me always wanting what I couldn't have".
She looked at me with a more serious expression on her face.
"Do you ever want what you can't have?" She asked.
I felt a bit uncertain and hesitated "Yeah." I answered, swallowing
a nervous laugh.
"And what stopped you?"
Again I hesitated and she repeated her question.
"Me, I suppose." I replied.
"Why? What are you afraid of?" She persisted.
I feared that this conversation was getting us into dangerous territory.
I was aware that we'd both had a bit to drink.
"Nothing," I lied. "Well I'm afraid that I have to say mass at eight."
I added nonchalantly
"So that's it? Its that simple?" She asked harshly,
the friendly atmosphere having suddenly disappeared.
"What?" I was taken by surprise at the anger in her voice.
"Never mind. Go on. I'm tired." She was now quite cold. I thought that
I'd better take the hint and go. I didn't like to leave her that way, but
to stay and try to comfort her was even more dangerous, so I pulled my
coat on.
"You'll go to bed then?" I asked gently
"I might do," she replied "Some of us have free will."
"We all do." I told her, trying to sound calm. "Good night then."
"Good night. .. And thanks" She replied coldly.
I decided to leave. The companionship of earlier was gone. I'm not really
sure what went wrong. I think Assumpta wanted to talk, but as the conversation
seemed to be leading us into deep water, I'd tried to avoid getting
myself into a situation I couldn't handle. I wonder what might've happened
if I had told her what it was, that I really wanted and couldn't have.
All I wanted to do was take her into my arms and tell her why I had
run off. That the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, or make life
even more difficult for her than it was at present. But I couldn't do that.
"I never wanted to upset you," I said gently.
"Well you managed it all the same." She replied. She was getting more
emotional and angry and went over to the door. "Just make up your mind
where your priorities lie, OK?" She said, and opened the door.
"Look, this is silly." I tried to protest.
"Until then, please don't come into my bar."
There wasn't much I could do. I felt wretched, so I left and had the
door practically slammed behind me. I felt sorry that I'd upset Assumpta.
I can't think of anything I can do to mend the situation, except stay
away for awhile. I am thankful that Peggy will be back in two days. It
breaks my heart to see Assumpta trying to do it all on her own. It's not
something I can talk to Niamh about. Assumpta told me to think about my
priories. My priorities are my duties as a priest, and as a servant of
God. Trying to be
there, as a friend for Assumpta is part of my priorities, so I'm not
really sure what she meant by that last sentence. How can I be her friend,
and help her. She is so unpredictable. I'd like to enjoy her company without
getting us talked about by the rest of the village. The night at my house
a few weeks ago when we looked after the abandoned baby was so pleasant.
She was
relaxed and we had such an enjoyable time together; but if the rest
of the village had found out, they would've disapproved very strongly.
A priest not only has to do the right thing, he has to appear to be doing
the right thing.
I wonder how different our relationship would be if I wasn't a priest.
Would we be more than just friends? I really don't know for sure how Assumpta
feels about me, but sometimes I think that the attraction is mutual. I
can never let her know how I feel about her. This whole thing is a real
mess. How did I get myself into this situation? I've just remembered Jenny's
words. She predicted it would happen again, and it has, only this time
it's very different, and I'm not going to run away. I'll just have to live
with it, sleep on it, and pray about it.
In fact I dropped into Fitzgerald's tonight to collect Brendan and take him to Brian's for another meeting of the organising committee.
When I arrived, Brendan and Padraig were trying to get an unwilling Assumpta to help. They were accusing her of not having any community spirit. They then turned on me, asking for a little 'divine intervention' that they thought was needed to persuade her to get involved. I felt rather put on the spot after our last encounter, so ignoring Assumpta, I spoke to Brendan and Padraig, telling them that 'what we wanted was willing and enthusiastic volunteers, not people who had no interest'. It was a bit below the belt, but Assumpta had hurt me, and suppose I wanted to give her little taste of her own medicine.
With that Brendan finished his drink, and we left together, leaving Assumpta to think about whether she wanted to be involved or not. I wondered what was being said about my comments as we left; I'm not usually as cutting as that.
Brendan had finalised the timetable of all the day's events. As well
as all the usual items such as the Irish dancing, reciting and singing,
there was a new entry listed as 'The Lily of Ballykissangel'. Brendan said
that it was Brian's contribution, so we asked Brian what it was all about.
He explained that it was a beauty contest. He's managed to get a bottled
spring water company, Babbling Brook, to sponsor it. He explained that
they were looking for a new face for their advertising campaign. He justified
it being in an Irish cultural festival as being a celebration of Irish
beauty. I thought it was a bit far fetched, and didn't feel fully comfortable
about it, but the festival is too close to stop it now anyway. The competition
is open to all girls under the age of twenty-four and native to BallyK.
Babbling Brook representatives will provide the judges, he told us. I was
a bit relieved to
hear this, because I had wondered if Brian wanted to be the judge as
well. After dinner I decided to go down to the bar and test the water,
to see if I was welcome there again or not. Also after two weeks
I was a bit sick of my own company every evening. I'd hardly put my nose
around the door when Brendan called me over, to introduce me to a newcomer.
She was a very attractive young lady, called Naomi. She is Eamonn's niece
from Dublin, who was originally born in BallyK. Her presence was quite
a novelty, and I was amused by all the males hovering around her.
At the pub later on, some of the regulars were discussing it too. Siobhan
was particularly outspoken, saying it was just for making money out of
'stupid vain women and dirty old men'. That it was just a glorified cattle
market. Unfortunately Brian walked in at just that moment and overheard
all her remarks.
"It's been a long time since you qualified for a beauty contest of
any kind, if ever." he said to her.
Siobhan's face fell, and she immediately walked out of the pub. I told
Brian that he was out of order. I have a feeling that he regretted it as
soon as he'd said it, but it still it doesn't undo the hurt it caused.
I wanted to go after her, but the others felt that she'd be best left alone for awhile. Brendan offered to call in and see her on his way home.
Amazingly, Assumpta seems to have forgiven and forgotten our row. She
came up to me and said that Brian was lucky that she was on her side of
the bar or she might have lumped him one. I confided that the thought had
also crossed my mind. We exchanged conspiratory glances and I knew we were
friends again. I wonder for how long? When will we have the next clash,
and over what?
It appears that Brendan as intended, called in at Siobhan's house last night to check on her. She'd been drinking, and he joined her by having some too. He tried to comfort her, but before he knew what was happening, the comfort became more personal, and one thing lead to another. He told me this morning that he woke up in Siobhan's bed, with a thumping headache.
Now he's trying to avoid her, because he thinks that she's in love with him, and he doesn't want to hurt her. How do we manage to get ourselves into these situations? More importantly, how do we get out of them? I have found myself thinking of their predicament all day. Brendan confided in me, but I really need a female to talk to Siobhan.
I decided to risk my neck, and trusting that our present friendly mood would hold, I went to see Assumpta. I knew I could rely on her discretion, so I told her what had happened, and asked her if she would talk to Siobhan.
She wasn't very keen at first, and insisted that it was none of her
business.
"We can't just stand by and watch them fall out over this." I pleaded.
Assumpta said that it might work out, but if it didn't and it ruined
a friendship, these things happen.
"I hate to see people I care about get hurt." I said persuasively.
She reluctantly agreed to try if she got a chance.
"What are friends for?" she said flippantly, but with a smile.
I can't fathom her out. One minute she is accusing me of not caring
for her as I do the others, a few days later she is acknowledging that
we are friends. I never know what she is going to do next. She is the most
unpredictable and confusing female I know, and I love her. There I've said
it and written it down. I love Assumpta Fitzgerald and she drives me crazy,
but I can't even let her guess how I feel.
Assumpta told me that Siobhan discovered that the girl claiming to be
Eamonn's niece Naomi, was an impostor. She's actually the daughter of a
business associate of Brian Quigley's, who wants to get into modeling.
She'd hoped to be chosen as the Lily of BallyK, because one of the prizes
was a modeling contact. A local girl, Deirdre Patrick, who seems to have
been a very popular choice, won the beauty contest. So nothing was said
publicly about who Naomi really was.
I found myself in the hottest spot nearest the flames, and I can tell you it was hot. Brian made some comments about only a priest being able to stand so close to the flames of hell.
It sadly appears that Kathleen has let her insurance lapse, so that's
a problem not just for Kathleen, but for all of us who don't want to lose
the convenience of her store. Some of us are going to meet in Fitzgerald's
in the morning to see what can be done.
Early this morning, we inspected the blackened shell that had until last night been Kathleen's home. We managed to persuade Kathleen to let Ambrose take her to her sister's home. The rest of us met in the pub to discuss what had to be done, and who would do what.
Brian had already volunteered Liam and Donal's labour for stripping the walls and painting. Brendan and I offered to help them as it was a big task. Padraig said he would organise the rewiring, and it was decided that Assumpta should help Niamh in choosing new carpets, curtains and furniture. Padraig had a contact in Cilldargan he was sure would offer them a good deal. Everyone helped get the monetary collection started there and then, and we all agreed to try and collect more as we went to work on what ever we had been allocated.
It was dirty work, but reasonably enjoyable in that we were all working
together. Siobhan, Brendan and I were working in Kathleen's sitting room
during the afternoon when Niamh and Assumpta returned with carpet and wall
paper samples. They've ordered the basic furniture needed, and it came
to two thousand, five hundred pounds with the very good discount that Padraig's
friend has given us. It will be delivered on Monday in six days time; cash
on delivery. At that moment the kitty stood at one hundred and fifty
pounds; so it was still a long way off what was needed.
"How are we going to turn one hundred and fifty pounds into two thousand,
five hundred?" asked Assumpta.
"A miracle?" said Brendan, pointing to me.
"Don't look at me." I replied. "I flunked miracles at the seminary."
Siobhan mentioned that there was a dog race at Enniscorthy tonight in which a dog called 'Black Dazzler' was almost certain to win. Everyone thought it was a good idea to use it to try to increase our collection. So we all arranged to meet at the dog races tonight.
Late this afternoon, two sources of information, one in the confessional,
told me that the dog race was fixed. My informants said that the dog 'Black
Dazzler' had been ringed, and I was advised that we should put our money
on the second dog. It had earlier been decided that we should all put a
portion of the collection on the same dog at the same time to keep up the
price.
Just as we were about to split up, I stopped them and told them about
my information. Siobhan agreed that my information might be better than
hers, so we decided to follow this latest information, and put our bets
on ''Tarbet Warrior', the second favourite. I knew that the responsibility
of the money was now no longer Siobhan's, but mine. The race was started,
and my heart was in my mouth. It was soon obvious that my information was
not correct. Black Dazzler led most of the way and was a
clear winner. Instead of doubling our money, I had caused us to lose
the lot. We were a rather quiet and subdued group who returned home to
BallyK tonight. The situation was desperate enough when we'd collected
only two hundred pounds by mid-afternoon, but now we don't even have that.
Only a miracle can save us I think. I wish I'd kept the information to
myself, but Niamh was very persistent when I'd hesitated.
I headed down to Fitzgerald's to apologise again and to see if anyone
had had a brainwave overnight. Siobhan was very forgiving, and pointed
out that betting is always a matter of tips and whispers. Padraig asked
me what I wanted to drink, and I realised that they'd already forgiven
me. What a wonderful group of friends they are. I don't think Kathleen
appreciates how
great they are.
The regular trio was having a game of poker when I came in. Michael Ryan came in with another one hundred pounds that he'd collected on his rounds, when Siobhan had just won another game. Michael asked her if she'd ever thought of playing cards for a living.
That comment gave Brendan an idea. He suggested we hold a poker tournament
to raise the money for Kathleen's house. Niamh, Padraig and Brendan were
very keen, and were quickly trying to sort out the details. Niamh agreed
to get Ambrose out of BallyK to make an overdue visit to his mother on
Sunday. Only Assumpta (whose license is at risk) and I (who doesn't really
agree with gambling, especially after the dog racing effort) are less than
enthusiastic. However, we had very little choice but to go along with it.
There seems to be no other way to raise the required amount of money by
Monday.
Fitzgerald's was already packed when I arrived, just before the contest was about to start. Siobhan was very nervous, and was not being helped by Brendan and Padraig's idea of reassurance.
Assumpta called everyone to attention, and announced that all the contestants
were being asked to donate 10% of their winnings to the fund for Kathleen's
house. Also, if Siobhan won, she would donate all her winnings to the fund.
I found myself being nominated as referee, even though I knew nothing about
poker. Brendan and Padraig promised to advise me should the
need arise.
Gradually, as the afternoon wore on, some unlucky players started to drop out. At six o'clock I left to say mass, then hurried back to watch. It wasn't very inspiring, and is definitely not a good spectator sport. One of those things one has to do in the line of duty I suppose. Slowly the number of players and spectators dwindled as the early losers went home.
By the early hours of the morning it became obvious that Mossy Phelan, an old adversary of Brian Quigley's, was doing well, and Siobhan was also still left. Most of the spectators who were left were either having a nap, or were quietly sipping a drink and indulging in subdued conversation. By half past three in the morning there was only one table of five players left. They were three locals from Cilldargan, Siobhan and Mossy Phelan. The contest appeared to be between Phelan and Siobhan, and the sense of anticipation could be felt in the room. A few people who had moved away to doze, now woke up and came over to watch.
At about half past five the first of the Cilldargan men dropped out, soon followed by the other two. This left only Siobhan and Phelan. The atmosphere was now very tense. Everyone who'd stayed throughout the night now gathered around this last table.
In what turned out to be the last round, Siobhan put down fifty pounds.
To bring things to a head, Phelan matched it with his fifty pounds, then
raised her a thousand pounds. There was deathly silence in the room. Even
though Siobhan had a better hand than her opponent did, she couldn't cover
the thousand pounds. She looked defeated, then Brian threw down a cheque
for a
thousand pounds.
"No cheques allowed," challenged Phelan.
"Referee!" called Brian. That was me. Brian assured me that the cheque
was made out to cash, and was "as safe as the Bank of Ireland", so I declared
that the cheque was OK.
Phelan knew that he'd lost. He retorted that "the priest was siding with Sodom and Gomorrah", and started to leave. Everyone was cheering and congratulating Siobhan. Then Phelan turned back and challenged Brian to a straight deal for a thousand pounds.
Ambrose, who had turned up in the last hour, tried to stop it, but Niamh insisted he go outside and direct traffic or something. It would have to be something, because at six in the morning there's not a lot of traffic in BallyK. Phelan insisted that I deal, which I did slowly.
The tension was electric, as slowly, one by one; ten cards were dealt
out. After eight cards Siobhan had two pairs, and then after two more cards
were dealt, she had three of a kind. So Siobhan had won. Phelan and Quigley
glared at each other, and I thought for a moment that I might have to jump
between them; then Phelan turned and left. We had, or at least Siobhan
had
made two thousand and nine hundred pounds.
The furniture was delivered later on in the morning, after we'd all managed to stagger home for a wash, a shave and some breakfast. Poor Liam and Donal were exhausted after laying carpet since dawn. Niamh found them asleep in the furniture van.
At ten o'clock those of us who'd worked so hard to get Kathleen's house
ready for her, were waiting in the church for her arrival. Fr. Mac turned
up and made a sarcastic comment about the difficulty of getting some of
the group to church for mass. It was probably a dig at Assumpta mostly.
When she challenged him for a contribution, he gave a miserly five pounds.
Not very
generous compared to many of the villagers. It now took the funds we'd
raised to two thousand, nine hundred and five pounds.
When Kathleen arrived, Fr. Mac deliberately gave the impression that the parish church (that is him of course) was a large contributor to the money to fix her home. At least it meant we didn't have to tell her about the poker tournament that we all knew Kathleen wouldn't have approved of. It'd been one of the things we'd been worried about.
Kathleen was overcome with amazement when she saw her house. It looked
so very nice. Niamh discretely closed the door to the kitchen where Donal
and Liam had again fallen asleep. They were exhausted after having worked
such long hours all week, and since dawn today.
"The Lord provides, Kathleen." Fr. Mac said, when Kathleen asked how
it had all been possible. We were all very tired. I decided that I might
try and get a few hours sleep before getting back to my pastoral duties.
In fact Ambrose seems to be the only person who is behaving in his usual
manner. It would make anyone, who didn't know these people as well as I
do, think that they all have something to hide, or feel guilty about.
I felt like I had been punched in the stomach when I heard that. Assumpta
had said nothing to me yesterday when I'd helped her carry some beer from
her van into her kitchen pantry. I knew she was having a difficult time
with some of the plumbing and a leak in her ceiling, but she hadn't said
anything about going. I thought we were good friends at the moment, and
I felt very
hurt that she hadn't confided in me about it.
I tried to reassure Kathleen as best I could, then I went straight down
to Fitzgerald's to find out what was going on from Assumpta. I found her
in the bar, so asked to talk to her in private for a minute. We stepped
into the kitchen.
"Is it true you're leaving?" I blurted out.
"This place drives you mad", she said. "Say something, and you might
as well post it on the wall."
"Are you?" I asked again. I was getting a bit emotional, but couldn't
help myself.
"Right now I've got something rather more urgent on my mind." She replied.
She walked over to the pantry and flung open the door, and pointed to the
beer we'd helped her carry in yesterday.
"It's duty free." she said. She explained how with burst pipes, and
no hot water she'd been forced into it.
"It's dishonest." I pointed out. Probably not the most tactful thing
to say under the circumstances.
"It's easy for you to talk." she said, "The church looks after you.
You'll never be short of a crust, or a roof over your head." I deserved
that I suppose.
"Why didn't you talk to me about it?" I asked her gently. It took all
my will power not to take her into my arms and comfort her.
"Whether I should sell bootleg beer?"
"You know what I mean. Leaving BallyK." I said. That seemed to make
her even more angry.
"What business is it of yours?" She asked me. "I'm not one of your
flock. I don't have to answer to you."
I felt hurt and confused. "I care about you." I tried to explain. "I
..........." I was nearly going to confess exactly how much I cared
about her, and stopped myself just in time. "Perhaps you're right. It is
none of my business, but you and I are friends, and I thought you might've
considered my feelings....?" What was I trying to do?
Assumpta replied to me calmly. "You ARE just a friend. You are no more important to me than any of the others. When I'm ready, you'll know what I'm going to do." Then she walked out of the kitchen ahead of me.
I went back home feeling very depressed. I was determined to find out who those two men were. Ambrose obviously knew, but wouldn't tell. He was following my advise from yesterday, when he'd asked me should he tell something he had been told in confidence, even if it affected others. My advice had been that if it was confidential, he shouldn't tell. Now I wished I hadn't been quite so definite in my advice.
I made up my mind that whatever they'd done, I couldn't let my friends down. I went straight back to Fitzgerald's and told Assumpta that she could store her illegal beer in my back shed.
While Padraig, Brendan and I distracted the two strangers; Assumpta, Liam and Donal reloaded the beer into her van, and drove it to my shed. This was the same place where I'd hidden some accounts books of Brian's that I'd found in the church a few hours earlier today.
A little while later Brian came in to the pub, and asked me if by any
chance I'd found some books in the church. So I took him with me to retrieve
his books. It appears that these two men overheard our conversation, and
decided to follow. Assumpta, overheard the men saying something like,
"Let's give the priest a hard time." So she decided to follow too,
bringing Niamh who was looking for Brian. Now in hindsight, it's all very
funny, but at the time I thought that I'd really got myself into trouble.
Just as I was retrieving Brian's accounts books from behind Assumpta's
bootleg beer, the two strangers walked in.
"A right little Aladdin's cave in here, isn't it?" said one. I tried
to explain that it was for personal use, and for a few parishioners.
"It's for the party." Brian added helpfully.
"What party?" asked the second stranger.
"My party," said Niamh, who'd just walked in. "It's a celebration.
I'm pregnant. I'm having a baby."
"She pregnant." Brian repeated like a parrot. "She's having a
baby."
"And Assumpta here is providing the drink." I added. "I've been storing
it for her, haven't I Assumpta?"
We invited them to join the party, but thankfully their phone rang
at that moment, and they bade us a hurried farewell and left. We all looked
at Niamh.
"Is it true? I'm going to be a grandfather?
It's official?" Brian asked her. When she smiled and nodded, there were
hugs and kisses all round. It was quickly fixed to have the party at Fitzgerald's
tonight, and Brian would pick up the tab. So all the beer was again transported
back to the pub.
All Ambrose and Niamh's friends were there. Only Siobhan and Brendan were missing. Siobhan had been invited to a function at Sean Dooley's house, as Sean Dooley was nominating Siobhan as a peace commissioner.
The atmosphere in the pub was not much like a party. No one felt like celebrating. It seemed that the threat of the revenue men still hung over everyone as we all drank up the 'evidence' as Assumpta put it. Conversation was subdued, with people talking in whispers. Niamh tried to get Ambrose to put everyone out of their misery. She said she'd a good mind to join Assumpta and go to Dublin. A discussion followed, about how Dublin had better promotion opportunities, cinemas, theatres and excitement compared to BallyK. This just illustrated how unhappy some people here have become lately.
Around nine o'clock, Siobhan and Brendan came in. "You can all relax."
Siobhan called out. "The revenue men ain't revenue men. They're the fraud
squad."
"And right this minute they're asking Sean Dooley some very searching
questions about bribery, corruption and tax evasion. You name it, Sean
Dooley's done it," added Brendan.
There was cheering, and the atmosphere in Fitzgerald's suddenly lifted.
The music was turned up and the party became a proper celebration. Conversations
were no longer in whispers, and were mostly about Siobhan and Brendan's
announcement. People started to dance, and the noise became louder and
more relaxed.
I was sitting with Assumpta, and we watched Niamh and Ambrose together.
"Is that what you're looking for, Assumpta?" I asked her, nodding towards
the dancing couple.
"No, No" she replied. "I don't know what I'm looking for, but
whatever it is, I'm not likely to find it here, am I?"
"You can find it anywhere." I replied, although I wasn't quite sure
what it was she meant. I assumed she meant love.
"Do you believe everything you hear?" She asked.
"Why not? I replied jovially, "I'm a man of faith, aren't I?"
It seems that everyone is organised for Christmas. Assumpta is closing the pub, and has her college friends coming from Dublin. Padraig has invited Con O'Neill, (the boy who lives with a foster family in Allenstown, and nearly turned Brendan grey overnight a few months ago), to join him and Kevin. When I asked if he'd ever killed a turkey, he said that he bought a frozen turkey because it was less personal that way.
Brendan said that he could probably kill a turkey in theory, but only
in self-defense. Not much help for me at present. So this afternoon, I
took my largest knife out to the pen. I'm sure the turkey knew what I had
in mind. It looked so downcast, I couldn't do it. I was feeling very despondent
about my Christmas dinner by this time, so I decided just to buy myself
a frozen
chicken, and worry about the turkey later.
When I was in Kathleen's shop, I ran into Assumpta, but she was busy,
and hardly stopped. She practically ignored me and cut my conversation
short. She didn't even give me a chance to wish her Happy Christmas. She
was in a great hurry, organising for her friends I suppose. Late in the
afternoon Fr. Mac turned up unexpectedly. He brought with him his nephew
Timothy, who's a seminarian, in his last year. He put me on the spot, by
asking me; no telling me, to look after Timmy over Xmas. Fortunately
Timmy seems very pleasant and obliging, and is very domesticated; but I
would've liked to have been asked and given some notice. Timmy reassured
me that he was quite happy to sleep on the couch, or on the floor in his
sleeping bag. He said he could even sleep in a stable if I had one. That's
fortunate, because there's not a lot of room in my place.
I asked Timmy about the turkey. Timmy informed me that it was definitely too late for this Christmas. So that put an end to my dilemma regarding the turkey. I was actually becoming quite used to the sound of him gobbling outside.
Timmy makes very nice French toast, and he's quite adept at cooking too, not like my rather plain affairs. He's offered to make up a nice stuffing for the chicken tomorrow.
After breakfast, I took Timmy with me to continue my round of visiting my wide spread flock. We found Eamonn very happily looking forward to having Xmas dinner with Mrs. Sheedy, who he said does a great stuffing.
When we met Kathleen, she commented on Timmy's lovely accent - Irish. That was probably a dig at me. Kathleen probably believes that all true priests should only speak with an Irish accent. It crossed my mind that I could always imitate an Irish accent when speaking to Kathleen, but she'd probably miss the point I was trying to make.
After we'd finished most of the visits, I sent Timmy over to Fitzgerald's alone. I felt I couldn't face Assumpta just then, after our curt encounter in Kathleen's yesterday. He had a drink and introduced himself to her. He reported back that she seemed quite pleasant, if a little touchy at times. That'is an understatement, I must say.
I can't understand Assumpta. Earlier this evening she rang and suddenly
invited me to her dinner tomorrow. I explained about Timmy, but she said
to bring him too. I asked her if she knew he was Fr. Mac's nephew. She
did. Was she aware that he was a seminarian? She said that it didn't matter,
even if he was a nun; she just thought we'd be good company. I thanked
her, but
explained that we'd be OK and didn't want to gate crash on her party
with her friends. She hung up then, so I'm not sure what that was all about.
Timmy and I had a very pleasant evening together. He was very good company, very different to his uncle, I must say. I suppose marriage is a bit like that, two people who love each other, and enjoy each other's company, being together in a relaxed atmosphere most evenings. I rather like the idea of that. Timmy being here has emphasised to me how lonely a priest's life can be.
When I think about it, the regulars in the pub are all single and looking for company. Niamh and Ambrose only come in for a specific purpose, but don't hang out like the rest of them.
Padraig came into the sacristy just before the service, concerned because Con and Kevin had disappeared. Kevin was supposed to be the narrator for the nativity play, and Padraig was worried. I thought it was probably just boys being boys, especially with Con being involved. I tried to reassure Padraig, and he agreed to stand in for Kevin as narrator if Kevin didn't turn up. I thought the boys had probably got sidetracked, and forgotten the time.
After mass neither boy could be found. Con had turned up briefly at the church without Kevin during the mass, but had disappeared again. Padraig was even more worried now, and I agreed it sounded very strange. It was decided that we'd have to arrange a search. While Ambrose went off to have a look around in his car, Siobhan offered to stay with Padraig in his house, in case either of the boys returned. Brendan, Timmy and I headed for the pub to see if we could use it as a meeting place from where would could organise a search. Assumpta was willing to help. As it turns out, her friends couldn't come, due to having the flu, so thankfully we weren't gatecrashing her party.
By late morning Ambrose had found Con, but he wouldn't say where Kevin was. He refused to speak to anyone but me, and only in the confessional. After I'd assured him that I wouldn't repeat anything I heard in the confessional, not to Padraig nor to Ambrose, he started to explain, but I was still very confused. What I did understand was that Kevin must be down a shaft, in the old disused copper mine. Con agreed I could at least tell the others that.
Ambrose and Padraig left for the mine straight away. Assumpta immediately rang the Mountain Rescue people, but was told that they were at least an hour away. Timmy said that he had done some pot-holing, but we'd need some ropes. So I sent him in my car, with Brendan as navigator, to Eamonn's to collect some ropes.
Dr. Ryan had been called, so I went with him in his car to the mine, to let Padraig and Ambrose know what we'd organised, and to see if they'd found Kevin. Siobhan offered to look after Con, and keep him out of Padraig's way.
When we got to the mine, Ambrose and Padraig had found Kevin at the bottom of a mineshaft. They could just make him out with their torches. He could be heard moaning, so was alive, but probably hurt. When Dr. Ryan saw him, he thought that by the way Kevin was lying, he might have a broken leg, and probably had concussion, which worried him a bit.
Timmy and Brendan were amazingly quick. Liam and Donal had also materialised. When Timmy asked if anyone has done any climbing or pot-holing, Donal indicated that he had done some pot-holing. So when Timmy had set up the ropes, we lowered him and Donal down to Kevin.
The ambulance arrived about the same time as Kevin was lifted out. I went with him and Padraig in the ambulance, leaving the rest to pack up and follow us back to BallyK.
When I eventually got home, I knew the chicken was ruined. I waited for Timmy to get back, then suggested we go down to Fitzgerald's and see if we could get something to eat there.
On the way down to the pub, Timmy confessed that he had killed my Jowett Javelin. He said that he mustn't have put the brake on sufficiently, and it had rolled over the cliff at the mine. It was a total write off. So now I'm back to square one where transport is concerned. Rather depressing news on Christmas day. I loved that car. It feels like I've lost a friend, and I haven't much prospect of being able to buy a new one.
When we reached Fitzgerald's, we realised that we weren't the only ones with the same idea. Most people who'd helped rescue Kevin had had their dinners ruined. Only Assumpta's turkey, which had been looked after by Brian, had survived.
In a comparatively short while, with Timmy and Niamh's help in the kitchen,
Assumpta was able to produce enough food to feed the crowd that had arrived.
The rest of us helped organise tables in the bar. Liam and Donal donated
party crackers and hats that they'd picked up cheaply at a fire sale. So
we were all able to sit down to a suitable Christmas Dinner after all.
The
party continued into the evening, with the arrival of more villagers
including Fr. Mac and even Kathleen.
I told Donal that he'd kept his climbing experience very quiet. He confessed
that he hadn't known what pot-holing was, and thought it was something
to do with filling holes in the road.
"But like anything else, once you get started its easy enough." he
said nonchalently. I was lost for words, and couldn't think of a suitable
reply to this. Life just wouldn't be the same in BallyK without people
like Donal and Liam.
From where I was standing at the bar I looked around and saw all these Irish villagers celebrating Christmas. I thanked God for the gift of these friends. After nearly two years I really feel part of this place, and I can't think of any other place in the world I'd rather be.
I'm looking forward to another year here next year. Niamh and Ambrose are expecting their baby, and Brian has some plans concerning some joint investments with some Asians. I wonder if Assumpta will settle down, or whether she'll get itchy feet again.