Conversation · Working Class Woman

"Alright, that's it then."

"It's in the morgue."

"And who should I contact...?"

RCM? I wish Kim was here...

"I really don't know."

"Alright, I'll call the RCM then," she nods to herself.

"RCM?"

"It's still there, on the boardwalk."

"You haven't even taken him away?!" There's alarm in her voice.

"No, we have."

"No, but we will. We will take him to the city morgue."

"I can't..." She covers her mouth. "I can't believe he's still there, this is madness."

"He's in the morgue."

"He's still there, on the boardwalk."

"Yes."

Smack your lips.

(Mumble.) "I don't want to do this..."

"Please don't cry."

"It's hard to say."

"Very long, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"He drank himself to death."

"He fell and smashed his head against the bench."

"I don't want to do this."

"What?" She stares at you with hazy eyes.

Say nothing.

"I guess what I want to know is... how did he die?"

(Raise your palm.) "Kim, I can handle this. Let me."

The lieutenant closes his mouth, but he doesn't look pleased.

"Just tell me, what happened to Victor?" She looks first at the lieutenant, then back at you.

"Your husband has expired."

"Expired?" She narrows her eyes. "Like a milk carton?"

"No, he's dead."

"Oh."

"Just dead."

"Yes, I..." She chokes on something, clutching on to her neck.

"I'm sorry, I just need a... I don't know what to say." She rests her hand on her forehead, eyes pale like pearls in seawater.

"He's in a better place now."

"Where? Did he run away?"

"I said that he's dead."

The lieutenant steps in. "We're very sorry to inform you, but your husband, Victor Méjean, was found dead this morning on the Martinaise boardwalk."

(Turn to Kim.) "It seems like there's a part of me that refuses to do this."

(Slap your cheek.) "Stupid... stupid... just say it..."

"Say what?" She looks frightened.

"Officer..." the lieutenant warns you.

(Slap your cheek.) "Stupid... stupid... just say it..."

"Say what?" She looks frightened.

Too late, you ruined it, just say it now.

(Turn to Billie.) "It seems like there's a part of me that refuses to do this."

"Do what?"

(Turn to Billie.) "I don't want to do this."

"It's you from the bookstand... Did you come to bring my cockatoo back?" She smiles nervously, before the smile vanishes from her face.

"I don't think I introduced myself properly -- I'm Billie. Would you like something to drink?" She looks around the kitchen. "Tea, lemonade? We're out of coffee..."

The lieutenant has taken off his foggy glasses and is busy cleaning them in his handkerchief for now. You're on your own here.

Condensation -- from stepping inside.

He must feel vulnerable without his glasses. Is this why he's letting you take the lead?

"It's not about the cockatoo."

She just nods.

Keep it together. Your body language shouldn't give it away.

"Sorry, I'm rambling..." She shakes her head and tries to laugh it off. "It's just that Victor often gets into all kinds of trouble. So, how can I help you?"

How about some small talk before you break the news?