End Game

Pick a sin, any sin ...

They said goodbye to the journalist on a note of stalemate. Tim was the next to speak. "That was weird," he said. "You know – technically we're still on a date. I could do with a cold drink. How 'bout you?"

By unspoken assent, they passed by Zest, meandering along empty streets like two juvenile delinquents on the last days of a summer break. Around them the air had a certain quality – you couldn't call it a tension – that you might expect to be broken by the crack of lightening and a sudden downpour. Instead, the sky remained obstinately blue, albeit fading as the afternoon sunlight wore thin.

Eventually, they found a bar, as lonely as the street outside. Ordered beers, took a corner alcove, sat facing each other across the table.

"So, here we are."

"Scene one, take two."

Tim grinned. "Things did kind of get sidetracked. It's a moot point now, but just for the record, I would have asked to meet you again – if the fact that we'll be seeing each other tomorrow morning hadn't made it unnecessary."

Min looked down, as if suddenly fascinated by her beer bottle. "I suppose that would be my cue to tell you I would have accepted. I mean, any other answer might make things a little embarrassing at our new job."

"That's a diplomatic way of putting it."

Min lifted her head, she was grinning. "Of course I would have said yes. I'm here, aren't I?"

"You are indeed."

Husk had not told them much. After showing off the coffins, he had left them in the custody of Curly and Mo – neither of whom proved to be great conversationalists – saying he had to "make arrangements". When he finally returned it was to tell them to come back in the morning, that everything would be ready for them then.

Min leaned back in her seat, eyes forward as she sipped beer from the bottle. "Thing is though, despite all the excitement, it's not like I really know that much about you." Her expression shifted, turned sly. "Maybe it's time to fast track this thing. I happen to know a one-question personality test. You up for it?"

"Must be one hell of a question."

"That's one way of looking at it. But not really. All you have to do is answer it honestly. Think you can manage that?"

"Sure," Tim said. Relentless positivity, he reminded himself.

"Okay then – one question that will reveal everything about you that matters. Have you heard of the seven deadly sins? The question is: which sin best describes you. Actually, it's the seven-minus-one deadly sins because lust doesn't count. Everyone feels lust – that's just biology. So unless you're a sex maniac, or something ..."

"I'm not a sex maniac." Tim paused to consider this for a moment, concluded there was no way to be relentlessly positive about sex mania. He nodded his head to append a full stop to his denial. "What are the other options?"

Min had to google. "It's not like I carry a list of sins around in my head," she explained. "Okay, here we are: envy, wrath, gluttony, sloth, avarice, and pride."

Tim considered this. "Not envy. We just spent an afternoon with a billionaire. I passed that test without even trying."

"Nice to see ya, wouldn't want to be ya, sort of thing?" suggested Min.

"Yeah. I mean, other people have cool stuff – only I wouldn't want to give up being me just to have what they have."

"Okay."

"And I think we can safely rule out gluttony for the both of us. After lunch at Zest." They examined each other and nodded. Min was slight of build, and though taller, Tim's lanky frame was not much more substantial.