The Conman

I couldn't resist coming to the funeral. Usually, I'd be keeping a low profile, avoiding confrontation while the family licked their wounds and rued their financial loss.

But I want to pay my last respects this time. Not sure why. Did I have more of a connection with Marie? Maybe. Did I love her? No, I wouldn't call it love. Fondness perhaps? She was alright, for a mark.

Heartless, ain't I? I am the thing that crawled out of the cesspool that is humanity, according to you. You can judge all you like but this is how I make a living. I befriend lonely ladies of a certain age and when they cark it, I reap the rewards from the legacy they leave me.

Believe it or not, I work hard for my money. I am patient, kind, considerate, attentive. I'm a fucking great lover. I do the washing up. I clean toilets and pull pubic hair from the plughole. And most importantly of all, I listen. Why shouldn't I get paid for it? Some people have therapists. Widows, spinsters, great aunts have me.

And so, here I am, waiting for Marie to be buried. I might get some free food at the wake, if I feel up to the fight. Haven't moved on yet really.

I can see her family circling, watching me, gauging the atmosphere to see when they can strike with minimum fuss and accountability. I'm ready for them. Marie told me a lot of things about her family: her daughter stealing jewellery; her son lifting money from her. They'll see it as what they're entitled to, thieving little gits.

You're thinking I'm a hypocrite, right? You can. Anything she's given to me is because she wanted me to have it and that's the truth.

Look out! Here comes the daughter.

"You need to leave."

"Why? Marie would have wanted me here."

"How would you know what she wanted?"

"Because I listened. In ways you never. About all sorts. Like, for example, misplaced rings, necklaces, you know the sort of thing. Things she wanted me to have but can't be found."

And I thought the only white-faced ghost I'd encounter today was Marie.

***

366 words

Fanfare please!! 50 stories. Super chuffed. Enough said.

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If you are interested in reading any of the others I have written in this microfiction marathon, you can start here and work your way back:

Another stacked index will be forthcoming today for Week 7 (!).

50/366!