Assumpta heard him come in. On his, "Heya!" she trod on a pot handle.

"Can you take her, please!"

"Coming!" He swooped in and plucked Eleanor from the floor with one hand, the other lifting a steamer back to its shelf. "Sorry." He looked at the remaining pots scattered about the kitchen floor. "Need the loo."

"It's fine. Just take her." She went on chopping potatoes into chips. "I'm almost set."

"I got her." He carried the toddler off on his shoulders. "Daddy will just wee then we can read all the new books I got you."

"Peter!" Assumpta closed her eyes, stilled the knife. "Picture books are exorbitant."

"They'r from the library." He called from the loo.

Chips ready to go and pots and pans returned to their rightful places, she found Eleanor asleep on Peter's arm in their upstairs lounge. He was reading an out of date magazine but looked up when he felt Assumpta watching.

He whispered. "Not a great book, apparently."

"Time magazine? Not really pitched at your average eighteen month old."

He pretended to cover Eleanor's ears, not touching her for fear of waking her. "Average?" He whispered, all false alarm.

Assumpta smiled and walked over, perching on the arm of the sofa beside him. "Hi." She leaned down and kissed him.

"Hi." He grinned. "We all set for the evening?"

"Sure," she looked at Eleanor then sighed. "Shouldn't let her nap long now or she'll be up all hours."

He nodded but didn't move to wake her.

"I'm not ready." She said

"Huh?"

"To do it all again – the sleepless nights, the birth, even the pregnancy bit is hard work."

"Oh."

Assumpta rushed on, "I know, it'd be nice if they were close in age but I'm barely managing with one."

"What? You're a wonderful mum."

She shook her head. "I'm always fobbing her off."

"So she's not the centre of the universe. It's good for her."

"Peter - "

"No, I'm serious. But, that said, there's no hurry."

She sighed. "You know you are allowed to have a say in these things, to argue your side."

"You want me to fight you on this?"

"No, but it's been over a year – well over a year – I'm no longer your boss. I know you think you're being generous and," she made a face, "submitting to one another, but I can't shoulder these decisions every time."

His eyes widened. He inched out from beneath Eleanor and left the room.

Already, she regretted her words. She meant what she'd said, but there were other ways she might have said it.

"'Sumpta." Peter hissed a whisper from the hall.

She turned and he beckoned, expression fraught. She followed him into their bedroom and stood like a naughty child waiting on a lecture while he closed the door behind her.

"Do I?" He said, eyes pleading, "Do I shirk responsibility – put things on you and claim some great act of sacrifice?"

"Not like that – I know you don't mean it like that."

"Then what? I'm only weak by accident?"

"No." She stepped forward. "It's just that you give in. You give me what I want, because you remember. I know. I see it and I understand, I do. It's just a way of not taking what we have for granted. You don't want to fight over the little things because we nearly missed out on every one of them. You say your piece and let me decide. You never insist. And I get it, I do."

"So what's the problem?"

"You care about this. About this, maybe, you should insist."

"But that's just why I shouldn't. This is too big."

"I'm not ready now. But these things take nine months, at least. Maybe, by then - "

"How about I insist on which brand of crisps we get?"

She couldn't help but smile, though her frustration was far from abated.

"A second child." He said, "I insist we try, at some point. You know what I want. And I know you'd stop at one if I didn't."

"Do you?"

He watched her, not so sure now.

"I don't know what I'd choose, if it were only up to me, but fortunately it's not. You want two and I'm not opposed."

"So it's settled," he sat on the bed, "You want to wait a bit and I'm not opposed."

She looked at him a moment, remembering, like she'd just described him doing. Remembering a time when his mere presence in this room would have been noteworthy, scandalous even. "Winning an argument with you used to be more satisfying."

He smiled, laced his fingers through hers, tugging her closer. "It's satisfaction you're wanting?"

She shook her head but he pulled her onto his lap anyway.

"Winning an argument with you," he began, "gosh, I wouldn't know."

She tried to slug him but he kissed her and took all the force out of her fist. A little later, she pulled back, "Do you need to study tonight?"

"I'll read a bit while she's settling then come down."

"You don't need to, if it's not busy."

"I know, but I - "

She interrupted, "You get more done with a lager in your hand?"

He shook his head and kissed her again. They had a window of time now and he clearly intended to make the most of it, but then Eleanor fussed and Assumpta remembered how she was propped up on the sofa, probably about to launch herself off of it.

She was awake. Their window of opportunity was closed. "I'll do her dinner if you want a few minutes to yourself." Peter said, watching Assumpta kiss the chubby cheek of their little girl. Assumpta nodded and handed the kid over, making sure to kiss Peter's cheek for several seconds longer than necessary.

She sat at the water's edge and threw stones into the current, took long deep breaths and watched the sky shift and change and threaten. It didn't rain but she started to long for their warm kitchen, the noise and dirt and chaos of it all.

The kitchen chaos was louder than expected. She poked her head around the corner. "I thought I said we should wait on number two." Kiaran was perched on a bar stool, in lieu of a high chair, and seemed to be tied in place with two or three twisted tea towels.

"Niamh had to go."

"Sudden need of a cocktail? Should've told her to come find me."

"No, ah - " he cocked his head toward the bar and she followed him through. Out of hearing of the kids he whispered, "Ambrose has been in some kind of accident."

"What?"

"That's all I know, but Superintendent Foley came to get her."

"Oh, God."

Peter shrugged. "We don't know."

Eleanor shrieked then laughed.

"My turn." Assumpta patted his arm and headed for the kitchen.

The news reached them in the blank faces of Liam and Donal. They'd been working with Brian when he'd heard.

"What's happened?" Brendan asked from his end of the bar.

"I don't know if we should say." Liam said.

Donal shook his head.

Assumpta turned and went into the kitchen. Peter was in there with the kids. He nodded toward Eleanor and carried Kiaran off to bed. The kid could have one more night's rest, not knowing.

Assumpta gritted her teeth and nodded, swallowing hard.

Peter returned to the bar and stepped up close behind her. "Soon as she's settled you should go."

"Where?"

He shrugged. "Find Niamh. Stay with her."

Assumpta nodded. "You might be better qualified."

"Doesn't matter." He put his hand to her shoulder and she moved away from the touch, afraid it'd undo her.

"I don't know what I'd do." She spoke in the dark after a long sleep-less silence.

"I'd run." He said. "I couldn't stay here if anything - " he didn't finish the sentence but rolled over and wrapped his arms around her.

She rubbed his face with her hands, kissed his eyelids. "At least you'd have somewhere else to go. I wouldn't know where to start."

"Well, bar work is, at least, a less high-risk kind of gig." He said. "We'll be too old to be any use to each other before either of us goes anywhere."

"Is that right?"

"Sounds right to me."

"Shut up, Peter."

He nodded and let her touch transport him far away from the hard reality of what Kiaran would be waking up to tomorrow.

Well, it wouldn't be true to ballykissangel without a bittersweet finale. So, there 'tis. The End.