Taking charge as she had done so often before, she half pulled, half dragged him out to the street. "I've got us a bedsit, it's hardly Dublin Castle but it'll do for now." She led him to a small doorway only blocks from the station. Walking up the stairs Peter again began to fret about the deception they had orchestrated. The wallpaper was peeling away from the walls, and the carpet was worn through to the hard cement below. Assumpta pulled out a key and opened a door that had seen much better days. "Assumpta," he called, the frustration apparent in his voice. Paying no heed she opened the door to reveal a tidy bedsit, with fresh paint on the walls and furniture, that was definitely old, but in good repair. "Sit down here and put a lid on it," she admonished, plugging in the kettle.

     Refreshed by the tea, the two began to talk. "So was it a full house?" Assumpta jibed. "Assumpta, don't joke, the whole town believes you're dead, looking at you on that cold slab in the mortuary, even I was worried. I began to feel like you were dead, and I was terrified that it would all turn out to be true, and you wouldn't be here waiting for me." Assumpta sat down on his lap and said, "Do you love me Peter Clifford?"
    "More than anything," he replied, tears coming to his eyes.
    "Well then, we had no choice, Thank God for Michael, I could never have pulled it off if he hadn't given me that injection, and gotten me the hell out of that place."
    Peter laughed "Do you have an idea what you just said? 'Thank God', Assumpta Fitzgerald thanking God, I don't believe it!"
    "I have you to blame for that, make no mistake" Assumpta replied looking at Peter with unabashed love. "I'm glad Niamh has the baby now, she was the only one I dreaded leaving."
    Peter looked off thoughtfully. "She'll be alright, Ambrose has been a pillar of strength, and that baby certainly will keep her mind off of you."
     "Gee thanks, but who'll keep my mind off her?" Assumpta asked with an edge to her voice. "Don't worry, Michael has promised to keep in touch and tell us all that goes on there, now tell me the game plan."
     Looking out of the window Assumpta relayed the plan they had painstakingly worked out. "Right so, I've got the plane tickets, we leave for America on Friday. Once we're there we'll be picked up by your friend at the airport, after that we're on our own." She took a deep breath filled with fear and anticipation. "Well for tonight, let's get some rest and we'll make more plans in the morning," Peter suggested. As tempting as it was to sleep together, they stuck with their promise to wait until they married in America. They kissed each other gently, pulling away before their resolve faltered. Peter set up the camp bed as Assumpta slipped away to the bathroom to change. Settling themselves down to sleep, they talked to each other softly, making plans, and sharing dreams they had never thought would come true.

     The time slipped away faster than they had planned, almost too fast thought Assumpta, who wanted to savour her last days in Ireland. She knew it was better that the people of BallyK thought her dead, but she wished there could have been another way. Ireland had changed, but not so much that it would allow a priest to leave the church and take up with a married publican. As the plane pulled away from the runway she looked down and saw Ireland slipping away into the mist. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she said a quiet goodbye to her home for the last time. At that moment Peter took her hand and as she looked into his eyes she knew it would be alright.