We Need To Talk

Contains strong language

“We need to talk. What the hell do you think that means?” Cassie inquired of the photo of her Mum that sat on the mantelpiece. She carried on folding her laundry into neat piles and smiled to herself as she thought that if her mum was still here she would have frowned at Cassie saying “hell”. Cheekily she grinned at the photo and said out loud “fuck it mum, they’re all just words, just letters.” She laughed as she thought that mum would have smiled at that and then given that slight disappointed sigh and shake of the head that Cassie knew meant “I wish you wouldn’t be so forthright but I can’t help but love you anyway.”

Cassie, suddenly overwhelmed at the ache in heart flopped down on the chair and stared at the stains on the rug that no amount of scrubbing had removed entirely. She wished mum was here now so she could talk to her properly about Michael. They had been dating for six months and everything was going so well, or was it? After all, "we need to talk" usually preceded the “it’s not you, it’s me” line in a clichéd dumping. Also, he’d arranged to meet her at a restaurant i.e. lunch in a public place where she was unlikely to cause a scene. Cassie frowned and shook her head. She just couldn’t accept that she was about to be dumped by a man who had spent the entirety of last weekend telling her that he loved everything about her, calling her his soulmate and hinting at them being “together for eternity”. “ahh,” said Cassie’s inner gremlin, “but isn’t that just a bit over the top, perhaps a bit too much too soon, a bit of insincere love bombing?”. “Bugger it all” thought Cassie as she poured a nice cold glass of wine from the fridge. Figuring she was either about to get dumped or proposed to Cassie decided it would be wise to go to lunch looking her very best. Then she was prepared for either outcome. If a proposal, she’d be selfie-ready: If she was about to be dumped then she’d be showing him what he’d be missing.

Just before leaving the house Cassie stopped at the mirror in the hall and taking out her signature bright red lipstick she gave her lips one final touch up and blew herself a kiss for confidence. She knew she looked good. She was glowing, her makeup flawless and her dress fitted in all the right places showing off her curves perfectly. She looked exactly what she was: young, brimming with excitement for life, carefree and sparkling with energy. On a sudden whim she drew a heart on the mirror and laughed. She could just hear mum now, “That will take ages to clean off!” Cassie dropped her lipstick back into her handbag and left for her lunch date with Michael.

At the restaurant there was a queue to get seated but she spotted Michael already settled at a table. She signalled to the maitre d to show she had spotted her party and walked through to the dining room. The maitre d ignored her completely, confirming to Cassie that he was a complete professional at being suitably snooty. She imagined he would probable have a fake french accent too.

“Hi” she said as she seated herself opposite Michael.

“Hi, you look nice.”

Cassie settled herself into her seat and looked expectantly at Michael.

“I bet you’ve been wondering what this is all about” he said nervously. He cleared his throat and continued, “Sorry, I’m… um… I’m really nervous about how you’re going to take this.” Oh God, she thought, he’s looking pretty stressed I’m going to be dumped! And he hasn’t even waited until after we’ve eaten. There’s not going to be a diamond ring in my tiramisu! Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry!

“We’ve been dating for six month’s now and I can truly say that I cannot imagine my existence without you in it. I had no idea when we met how deeply I would come to feel for you.” Okay, maybe I will need to be extra careful when eating the tiramisu after all thought Cassie. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry!

Michael paused, nervously twiddling his napkin and Cassie had to grip the edges of her chair to stop herself from from screaming “for God’s sake man, spit it out.” Looking into her eyes Michael took a deep breath “I just don’t want what I’m about to say to change anything between us.” For fuck’s sake the bastard’s married, thought Cassie. Dear God don’t let there be kids too. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I’m not what you think I am. I mean I am who you think I am, my name is Michael and I have been truthful in everything I have ever told you about myself. It’s just I’m not what you think I am: I’m not an Accountant, I’m a Reaper.” He watched Cassie’s face intently but all he could see was confusion. Finally after a lengthy pause she managed to ask “What do you mean, you’re a Reaper? What the fuck’s that?”

Michael reached across the table and took hold of Cassie’s hand. His thumb gently stroked across the back of her hand as he asked her “You do trust me, don’t you? I am the same person that has laughed with you at funny movies, walked miles in the rain with you because you don’t like using public transport and I’m the one that held and comforted you whenever you felt lonely or upset or just wanted to be held. Do you think you can trust me to tell you the truth?” Unable to speak Cassie nodded, for some reason she knew what Michael said next would be completely true but she also knew she wasn’t going to like it and it was certainly nothing to do with diamond rings hidden in desserts or champagne glasses. Her eyes teared up, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I’m a Reaper, just like the ones in folklore, I gather souls for the afterlife. Often we’ve been referred to as the Grim Reaper but there are many of us not just one and I like to think that I’m not that grim either.” He smiled nervously at his own little joke. Cassie just continued to look down at her place setting as if the everyday ordinariness of crockery and cutlery could anchor her to the life she knew. Quietly, her voice barely a whisper in the busy restaurant, she managed “are you here for me?”

“Yes”

“But we’ve been dating”

“Yes”

“We’ve made love”

“Yes”

“You were my first… ” Cassie gulped in air as her throat constricted around her words, “…and I guess also my last.”

“Yes”

“Why?” she asked simply as the tears started to spill silently down her cheeks.

Michael’s thumb continued to move in soothing patterns over the back of her hand as explained how when someone is to experience a sudden death a reaper is sent to befriend them beforehand so that they will have a familiar person they trust to explain the transition between life and death as this can be an especially confusing time for the suddenly departed. He told her that he had done this many times before and he hadn’t been expecting to fall in love with her. That he had meant it literally when he had called her his soulmate. That he hoped she would spend eternity with him. He told her how she had suffered a burst aneurysm, a death so sudden that she’d only felt an ache in her heart for a brief second before collapsing on the rug in the front room at home. “It was so sudden,” he said, “that you were dead before you hit the floor. No time for pain or even the knowledge that you were dying. Just a moment of heartache briefer than the time it takes to snap your fingers”. Michael snapped his fingers and just like that the restaurant and all that was in it disappeared. There was just herself and the Reaper that she loved.

“What now?” she asked.

“We move on,” he replied, “together.”

Cassie’s mum opened the door. Dressed smartly in a black suit she walks into the front room. There are piles of laundry, neatly folded on the sofa and chairs. She starts to cry softly, I didn’t think I could possibly cry any more tears she thought. Rather than the inexplicably piled up clothes and laundry frightening her she takes comfort from them. They reminder her of how Cassie had loved to fold the laundry whenever she was trying to mull over some problem or concern. She could almost see her stood there chatting away as she folded, trying to make some sense of whatever was on her mind.

She moved into the kitchen glad to be home and finally alone. All the sympathy and words of consolation, however well meant, had drained her and all she wanted to do was get out of this hateful black suit and into some soft pyjamas and drown out the memory of the day with copious amounts of wine. She’d had to assure everyone she was fine on her own and thank them for their concern. Truthfully, she wanted to be on her own. Here, at home, where she and Cassie had shared so many conversations, arguments and laughter. Here, alone, she could drink until she forgot that Cassie wasn’t about to come through the door and tell her all about her latest adventure. Lately, there had been Michael and it had been so good to hear the love and admiration in Cassie’s voice as she talked about him. She’d met him once or twice and he seemed equally besotted with Cassie. A good fit for her and an Accountant too. He hadn’t been at the funeral perhaps he couldn’t face it she thought. She knew how he felt.

She pulled the wine out of the fridge and turned to the counter. A full wine glass stood waiting for her. She looked confusedly at the bottle and then back to the glass. She couldn’t remember pouring it. Shrugging she picked up the wine and took a good, deep drink noting that the liquid was slightly more room temperature than she was expecting and made a mental note to turn down the fridge thermostat.

Wine in hand she moved back into the hallway determined to go upstairs and rid herself of the expensive suit that she would donate to charity at her earliest opportunity. She knew she would not wear it again or even be able to bear having to see it hanging in the wardrobe. Walking past the hall mirror something caught her eye. Stopping to look closer she sees a perfect crimson lipstick heart drawn on the glass. She smiles through her tears, then gives a slight disappointed sigh and shake of the head. That will take ages to clean off she thinks.