His friends had not been part of the relationship between he and Joy. Indeed, he and Joy had studiously avoided company, because time together was the...most important thing.The dim afternoon darkened as dusk approached. Still he sat. He had opened a bottle of whisky, but had poured only one glass and had merely sipped at it.Perhaps he would never drink again. Perhaps he would never consume food again. Perhaps he would deny himself these things so that his remaining existence would be rather. ’ ‘Oh my,’ my mother said, fanning herself with a magazine until her gray hair flittered around. ‘Eight months, Deacon! We would have been happy to come visit any time. Miranda, I just… I wish we had known. But did you have a pastor marry you? In a church?’ ‘Not yet… we thought we’d wait on that until we could plan a ceremony,’ Miranda said, turning to reach behind herself. ‘Well,’ my mother began, ‘I hardly think a marriage is really legitimate until-‘ ‘But that reminds me,’ Miranda. Let's go find the stairs and a phone." A short search found a stairway leading both upward to the second floor and downward to the basement. Using our flashlight and turning on lights as we went, we descended into what looked like any regular business with a few private offices, cubicles, and office equipment. Every desk was equipped with a telephone and a computer. Grabbing the telephone from the closest desk, I raised it to my ear and found only silence. Going from phone to phone throughout. " Jesus father, I reckon I'd have a hard on the whole time," I told him."Ah to be sure tis a sore trial," Father Rafferty admitted, "I always have a bucket handy just in case, but maybe you should leave the confessional to me and go and see Mr's O'Reagan's daughter Flora," he said "Its down Gilmore Street number 33." Is it far," I asked."Oh no, hardly a quarter mile," he said, "You can't miss it it's off the Ballyshannon road."I set off on foot and ten minutes later I knocked and Mrs O'Reagan.