MirrorMirror

1 / The Wardrobe

Mirror, mirror on the door, who is it you're waiting for?

The move went well. Smoothly. He guessed that was good. Nice.

House moves don't always go wrong, nor do they go right every time. Ornaments can break. Sofas can sometimes not fit through doorways. Televisions, expensive and massive and slim, can be dropped. Shit happens, on occasion. He, Cassidy, had changed address multiple times. Usually, it was a voluntary adjustment. Leaving home. Upsizing. Downsizing.

More than once – twice is more than once – it hadn't entirely been his choice.

Relationships are like house moves. They can be costly. Awkward. You have to be careful with the knicks and the knacks. Make sure they're handled carefully. And don't be clumsy with the larger items, lest they're broken beyond repair.

Cass had done his best, both times, to handle things with care. The first time, he'd achieved it. His ex and he were still friendly. Not friends, but they could still speak with a measure of platonic warmth. Neither had dragged the other through a mire to coat their reputation in dirt, not that there was any. The love had faded, that was all. They were too different. It happens. They realised things had come to an end on holiday in Berlin. There was an emptiness in the air between them where, once, there had been passion and tenderness. On their return, they'd split their possessions and she helped him find somewhere else to live. Eventually, he found someone else to love, though without her aid.

But that was then. Now, Elise was not Lucy. She had all the qualities he loved about her, plus some he didn't. Not listening to his opinion, but taking notice of everyone else's. Holding on to an argument for months until such a time when it might be useful to throw into another one. Elise was the only girlfriend Cassidy had ever really argued with. She seemed to enjoy it, or needed it.

She seemed, also, to take it personally that he didn't like Valentine's Day. Who didn't like Valentine's Day? What sort of person doesn't like Valentine's Day?

Cassidy didn't. Both his parents had died on that day, or rather on that date, three years apart. A stroke and cancer. Was death romantic? Was romance romantic anymore? Cass wasn't sure. Not that he wasn't attentive, loving or caring. He was. It was just that day. So, perhaps, Elise deliberately chose them for the mighty kick off that prompted his relocation.

She didn't help him move out. She didn't split their possessions. She threw what was his, or what she said was, at him. He told her he was leaving. She yelled 'Good!'

They didn't speak again.

His relationship had slipped through his fingers, crashed down the stairs and landed in a pile of broken promises and splintered hopes by the front door.

So, he'd moved. The house was old. It had a dusty smell that welcomed him as he entered. He wondered if he'd paid extra for that. He hadn't noticed it before, when he came to look before buying, though he did have other things on his mind. He'd just wanted somewhere, that was all. Decent price in a decent area. His needs were few, so it didn't have to have the latest kitchen. A large back garden wasn't essential. More rooms would mean more cost to heat and clean and furnish.

This house suited him. He would discover its foibles, if there were any, once he was in. He'd sort them accordingly. Decorating or fixing. Cass wasn't adept at either, but he liked to learn and the Internet had been his saviour on many occasions.

The foibles were, luckily, few. The light fitting in the kitchen needed replacing. Bulbs blew immediately the switch was... switched. A simple job. The seventh and ninth steps of the stairs creaked, seven more than nine. He would live with that and was sure, quickly, he'd not even notice. The bathroom suite hadn't aged well. He imagined it had adorned the Ark and Noah had sold it on eBay or Facebook, hence it being in his house. But, it was serviceable. He could bath, if not shower. The toilet flushed better than his last one.