After the excitement of the night before, it was time for some earnest reflection and much pious extrapolation, writes Miriam Lord in Sligo.
It was one of those mornings. Fine Gael TDs and Senators awoke to a fine sunny day, stretched and yawned and thought happy thoughts of heartening opinion polls and extra seats. Then the awful reality kicked in. To a stricken man and anguished woman, the events of the previous evening came flooding back. A communal groan engulfed the Sligo Park Hotel.
Did we really welcome Pat Rabbitte into our midst last night? Was that really the leader of the Labour Party sitting down to dinner with Enda Kenny? Did we really applaud him to the rafters and give him a standing ovation? Was there kissing? Oh, the shame. And there wasn't even strong drink involved.
Mind you, imagine how poor Pat felt. Squired around on Enda's arm. Pawed like a piece of meat by leering Blueshirts. No wonder he looked a bit uncomfortable as they swarmed over, showering him with smarmy compliments. The Labour leader was supposed to stay overnight, but he left before the coffee and headed for Dublin. Feeling used, no doubt.
Everyone knows those Fine Gaelers are only after the one thing - a spot of coalition. Just as well that Pat's crowd are up for it as well. On Monday in Cork, Enda Kenny will have to present himself for the titillation of the Labour Party, swallowing his pride when it's his turn to be Pat's political plaything for the evening. They may very well want him to jump out of a cake.
One doesn't want to alarm the gentle leader of FG, but informed sources are of the view that the rather volatile Labour parliamentary party may cut up a little rough on the night. He might be advised to keep his address brief.
When Pat spoke before dinner on Wednesday night, he went on for so long that some of his hosts began wondering whether it might not be time to consider the nuclear option of going in with FF.
But an enraptured Enda hung on his every word. Hungry colleagues were not so entranced. "It could have been worse," whispered one deputy after Pat finally sat down having pondered such matters as "the fragilities of the economic scenario." "If they sent Michael D the dinner would have been burnt onto the plates by the time he finished." With Mayomen Pet and Inda - "Penda" to their close friends - officially stepping out, Fine Gael TDs and Senators took to the hotel bar to toast the couple's public display of devotion.
Party leader Kenny was up bright and early - but then, the man is on a promise. His brothers-in-arms followed him down to breakfast, still shuddering as flashbacks from the previous night's love-in threatened to spoil their Full Irish.
What better than a spot of hard work to obliterate the memory? So they piled into the session on party organisation and strategy, where veteran handler and noted number cruncher, Frank Flannery, told them how Fine Gael was going to win the next election. Frank is like the Jimmy McGee of the Irish political scene - there is nothing he doesn't know, or remember, about fighting elections.
He dissected the opinion polls, ran through the numbers and extrapolated with such giddy abandon that soon he was extrapolating on his extrapolations.
Frank's bottom line is quite simple: Going on the current opinion polls, and taking into account the various idiosyncrasies of the different polling companies, and running the percentages and, er, extrapolating and so forth . . . Fine Gael is in with a very good chance of taking 60 seats next year, while doing minimum damage to the Labour Party.
There's been a good bit of tweaking going on this week where Enda is concerned. Female journalists have been most impressed with the flawless finish of the Fine Gael leader's make-up, applied in alarming quantity by a skilled hand. No such thing as throwing on a bit of slap for the cameras here. In fact, it was generally agreed that Deputy Kenny's foundation compares very favourably with Bertie Ahern's highly expensive warpaint.
Enda naturally wants to look his best for Pat. But of course, if and when the pair of them manage to tie the coalition knot, he'll probably let himself go.