"Is there anybody out there? Give us a sign. We're listening. . . " It was like being in the middle of a particularly mad seance, writes Miriam Lord
All day in Leinster House, they spoke of nothing else but contacts from the other side - otherwise known as the Resurrected (Fianna Fáil) and the Living Dead (Fine Gael).
There were happy mediums, unhappy mediums, hopeful mediums, unrequited mediums and the media.
And then there was independent deputy Finian McGrath, who was getting more messages from the beyond than Mystic Meg on All Souls' Day.
By teatime, there was talk of his palm being crossed with the glittering silver of a junior ministry. But that's all it was: talk. With the infectiously excited Finian doing most of the talking.
The newly elected Independent deputies were the happy ones. The PDs were unhappy, but still in the game.
The Labour Party was hopeful, but hadn't been contacted. Unrequited Sinn Féin were cast in the role of nobody's child, at the sweetie counter with an unfeasibly long shopping list, not being served.
The media did a roaring trade out on the plinth.
Postmortems were held in various party rooms. Contacts were established.
The Progressive Democrats are still in mourning following their election drubbing. In their distress, they held three separate meetings yesterday, one more than the number of deputies they returned to the 30th Dáil.
Labour, meanwhile, held a parliamentary party meeting. "I am merely introducing you to our three new colleagues," leader Pat Rabbitte said afterwards. But had there been contact from Fianna Fáil?
"Not a sinner has asked me anything," declared Pat. "Not a sinner."
As far as he is concerned, the Alliance for Change will be continuing until June 14th, when the new Dáil convenes. After that "there is a blank canvas". As he spoke, Enda Kenny scuttled past in the background, mobile phone stuck to his ear, contacting away.
Pat had his inscrutable face on. One of the few Fianna Fáilers around was Donie Cassidy, who lost his seat to Mary O'Rourke. "I'm going for the Senate," he told us. "Labour Panel. I'll be contacting as many people as I can in the next 10 weeks."
Meanwhile, deputy Rabbitte said he didn't know what Fianna Fáil was going to do. "Divining the thought processes of the Taoiseach has always been beyond me."
He didn't detect any great urgency around the place to get things done. "Other than the chances of Finian doing himself harm if someone doesn't offer him something soon, the rest of us are relaxed about it."
Word came through that the Progressive Democrats would hold their second meeting in a nearby hotel. Former deputy Tim O'Malley left early for it. Tim is a pharmacist by profession, and probably wanted to get there in good time to dole out the valium.
Finian McGrath confirmed he had been contacted by Enda Kenny and told to keep an open mind. Fianna Fáil had been in touch, too.
"I'll want to deliver for Dublin North Central," he said.
Sinn Féin were due to make their pitch outside the gates. But Beverley Flynn was spotted first, with her pristine white suit and Burberry umbrella. A passing Fine Gael adviser saw the media gallop towards her.
"We've spoken to her already," he remarked.
Unlike Finian, Bev was keeping her powder dry.
"Contact has been made by both sides," she confirmed. "I'll do what's best for Mayo." A Flynn's door is always open.
The Shinners made their way towards the plinth, but not before the leader of the Greens was spotted sidling out the side gate. A small group detached itself from the media throng and pursued him down Molesworth Street.
"Any contact from anyone?" Trevor Sargent wasn't saying. He's keeping an eye on the tribunal, though.
Back to Sinn Féin and Caoimhghín Ó Caoláin, who was engulfed by journalists. "Restrain yourself!" he cried, before launching into a four-minute monologue of demands.
"We will be determiners of exactly what role we are playing," boomed Caoimhghín. Sinn Féin is not interested in supporting a minority government from the opposition benches.
But what if they let you sit on the government side? "I think that's irrelevant, where we sit within the configuration of the chamber itself," intoned the deputy for Cavan Monaghan.
"He speaks a different language," marvelled an onlooker.
Any word from the great beyond? "Nobody has been in contact with us, and we have not initiated any contact at this point in time."
So everyone raced to the Alexander Hotel to see the PDs. We met Tony Gregory along the way. Relaxed and calm - he's been down this road before - he said he got a very brief phone call from Enda Kenny asking him to keep an open mind. But no contact from Fianna Fáil.
"They're picking off the weak ones first," surmised the Sage of Summerhill.
Des O'Malley was walking down Merrion Street. "I'm very disappointed," said the founding father of the PDs. But he thought the party would survive.
The vanquished made their way inside the hotel, still in with a shout for government. A car pulled up and acting leader, Mary Harney, stepped out.
She was surrounded by journalists and gave an impromptu interview. This was a day, she said, to take stock. The formation of government was not the major issue.
But what about the burning question? "Yes, I have had a number of contacts." From both sides? "Yes."
As she spoke, Michael McDowell arrived from the opposite direction and walked briskly inside. There was no attempt to corner him for a few words. He sat at the far end of the lobby, and was joined by Des O'Malley, Liz O'Donnell and Mary Harney.
There was a big brass sign above them. "Winner's Bar". They didn't go inside.
Back at Leinster House, the Labour Party returned to the plinth. After another meeting, the mood was "upbeat" and the debate "mature". Brendan Howlin arrived late. "Has my absence been noted?" he asked mischievously.
Any contact from Fianna Fáil? "If Bertie Ahern wants to ring me, he's perfectly entitled to ring me," said nonchalant Pat.
Behind him, the sound of happy voices. "Messive! Messive!" It was Fine Gael's Michael Ring, reliving his role in delivering the Mayo vote.
Finian McGrath was out again. He had had a meeting with Bertie's programme manager. "I'm not interested in Mercs and Perks." His phone never stopped ringing. He said he wants assurances in the area of education and disability. There was word that someone (not Fianna Fáil) had offered him a junior ministry. We feared he might spontaneously combust.
But with all the messages and contacts from the other side, there was total silence from one man.
Come on, Bertie. Give us a sign...