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Dear Alumnus!

You are cordially invited to the Jolly Fun Alumni Dance of St. Clôture! 

The Dance starts at 7pm on 7th March. Formal attire required. 

RSVP to Victoria Vogue, Head of the St. Clôture Alumni Committee

"What a waste of paper! At least we can still use it as coffin padding."

Rudyard crumpled the garishly pink invitation into a ball and threw it into the carton he collected all their paper waste/coffin padding in. 

"You don't even want to think about going, then?" Antigone looked at her own invitation. "Almost everyone on the island was at St. Clôt's. We could find future customers."

Her brother scoffed. "The music will be too loud to speak to anyone, the people too drunk for sensible conversation and it will be absolute torture to walk those school halls again. I won't be going."

Maybe Rudyard was right. Their record with village festivities was abysmal at best. Besides, she had no desire to relive the horrid experience of her last school dance. 

For Rudyard, the subject was already dealt with and he moved on. "You need to pick up the flowers for Mrs. Warren's funeral. Petunia still has me banned from her flower stand. She won't even let me in the vicinity anymore." 

"Why do you always have to antagonize every single person you meet?" She sent her worst scowl his way. "I haven't finished embalming her yet! The funeral is tomorrow, Rudyard! I don't have time for this!" 

"Yes, well, Georgie is still building the coffin and I cannot do it. So, unless you expect Madeleine to drag a bouquet of flowers around, I don't see how you're going to get out of this one." The mouse in Rudyard's front pocket squeaked at him. "Yes, Madeleine, I know you could do it, but it wouldn't be very efficient and the flowers would be in quite the state."

"Fine, I'll do it! Just stop talking! Forever!" Antigone grabbed a few quid out of the little wooden box they kept their money and stuffed it in her pocket together with the invitation. She stomped out into the square and glared at the sun. The audacity of the weather to be this bright and warm, when she was in such a bad mood. A cloudy, dark day might have even cheered her up. 

The people she crossed paths with on her way to Petunia had the good sense to give her a wide berth. This must have led to Antigone letting her guard down a little too much. She only noticed that she had entered the lion's den, when it was too late. Her fault for not paying attention to the small group of four women that had gathered at the flower stand. 

"If it isn't Heidi! We all thought you died years ago!" There were some voices a person was unlikely to forget, no matter how long it had been since they heard them last. For Antigone, Victoria Vogue's voice certainly was one of those. They had only attended the same school for two years, but she certainly had made up for the short time span in showing Antigone more vicious cruelty than anyone else.

Antigone resisted the urge to run back home to her mortuary and stay there for a few years. "Hello... I only need a moment of Petunia's time to buy some flowers." 

And of course Victoria would not let her off the hook so easily. "Don't be so impolite, you haven't even asked me for how long I've been back. Although you might have not realized at all I left Piffling after school. Much success to be had out there in the world if you actually leave the house."

The other three women whose names escaped Antigone started giggling. It was the same faces that surrounded her tormentor back in school, trying to stay on her good side in an effort not to become the next victim. 

Antigone knew it would be over quicker if she played along. She just had to stomach the fact that she contributed to her own humiliation afterwards. It was merely another part of her wretched existence.
"How long have you been back then?"

A triumphant sparkle lit up Victoria's eyes. "Just two weeks. I immediately started organizing the Alumni Dance. You must have received the invitation? I almost didn't send one to you and your brother. It felt like a bit of a waste of paper, to be honest. It's not like anyone would expect you to be there."

This was the moment Antigone should've told her she wouldn't be coming to the dance. The other woman would have fired off a few insulting remarks, she could have bought the flowers and just returned home to embalm Mrs. Warren. 

Instead something very different came out of her mouth. "Oh, I'm very grateful you decided to send it. Because I will be there."

Victoria tutted. And when she spoke it was with a sweet voice and entirely fake concern. "Are you sure you want to spend an entire evening by yourself standing in a corner? That can't be very enjoyable."

And wasn't it just perfect that the one person who had apparently noticed her at her last school dance was also the one to weaponize it brutally against her?

She couldn't let this stand.

"I won't be alone, I'll be there with...someone."

It was immediately obvious that Victoria didn't believe a word. "Oh, who is this mystery person then?"

Antigone's head felt empty, the names of everyone she knew suddenly vanished. So, she blurted out the first person she could think of. "Eric Chapman!"

"Oh, Eric decided to go with you, has he?" Victoria said. "My, what a surprise."

Of course she was already acquainted with Chapman. You could hardly spend two weeks on the island without meeting the most popular man in all of Piffling Vale. She should have just made up a name.

As Antigone mused that this situation could hardly get worse, Victoria decided to prove her wrong. "Oh, speak of the devil, guess who is right over there? Why don't we ask him to join us?"

Antigone turned around and there he was, Eric Chapman in all his terrible smiling and extraordinarily handsome glory. And Victoria was actually calling him over now. 

"Why can't the ground swallow me whole, so I can rest in eternal darkness," Antigone muttered.

Chapman walked over to them and curse his well fitting suit that brought out how broad his shoulders were and-

"Hello everyone!" His eyes landed on her. "Antigone! Good to see you."

Victoria saw her opportunity to strike. "Antigone was just telling us that you were accompanying her to the Jolly Fun Alumni Dance!"

Chapman furrowed his brow for a second looking between the two women. Antigone couldn't meet his eyes, so she immediately looked away to the ground. 

"Yes... Yes! We are. Going together, I mean. Always up for a good dance, me. Ha!"

Antigone wasn't sure who looked more shocked, herself or Victoria. 
Chapman looked uncomfortable with them being silent and decided to babble on. "I'm sure it will be a lot of fun. Jolly Fun! So, I completely forgot to ask, Antigone, when exactly is this dance?"

Antigone didn't have time to formulate an answer. Victoria had already taken a pink paper out of her no doubt extremely expensive handbag and offered it to Chapman.  "An invitation for you, Eric! I'm sure no one would mind if you showed up, even if it wasn't as a plus one. And anyone on the island would be glad to take you there if you didn't want to come alone!"

He took the invitation. "Thank you. Well, Antigone is already taking me, so I won't have to worry about any of that, will I?"

Victoria forced a laughter. "I suppose not."

Antigone had no idea what was going on. Had she stepped into an alternate reality where she had asked Chapman to come to the dance with her? What reason would he have to pretend this was true? Maybe he wanted to gain leverage against Funn Funerals? It seemed like the most logical conclusion, even though he had no necessity for it. Maybe he was still angry at the deal they struck with his bracelet. But he had won that round! And hadn't tried anything in all the time between then and now. Nothing made sense. 

"Surely, you don't have a dress yet, Heidi?" Victoria asked in her too sweet voice. "The girls and I were just about to go to the boutique and we would love for you to join us." 

Antigone shook her head. "No, thank-"

Victoria grabbed her wrist. "I insist! There's no one on the island who could give better fashion advice than me, I assure you." 

It took everything in Antigone not to claw or bite at her grip.

"Why don't I join you? Whatever Antigone picks out, I should make sure we match. And I did help out at the Paris Fashion Week once," Chapman jumped in. "A long time ago..."

Antigone wasn't sure whether his presence at the boutique would make things better or worse. 

Victoria let go of her wrist. "Very well, follow me!" 

She monologued about dress cuts and fabric and clothes for the right occasion the entire way. No one else got in a word edgewise. 

Antigone caught Chapman glancing at her a few times, as if to check on her. The urge to flee became stronger the closer they came to the boutique. Surely running away would be less of a humiliation than everyone seeing her in these dresses she clearly wasn't meant for. Too beautiful and elegant for someone like her. The display already seemed to mock her.

Now that Victoria and her entourage were inside she could actually make a run for it.

"Have you been in there before?" Chapman asked her.

She scoffed. "I hardly see the point. It's not like I can actually afford to buy anything." 

He grinned at her and grasped her elbow gently. "Trying them on doesn't cost anything, does it? Come on."

She let him guide her inside against her better judgement. Damn his warm hands.

Victoria immediately swarmed her with an arm full of dresses. Most of them were so short, they would barely cover her knees. The image of showing this much skin alone made her heart race and jaw clench.

"I don't think those are entirely to Antigone's taste," Chapman said and took the dresses from Victoria. Antigone could have kissed him in that moment. Figuratively. As a gesture of thanks and nothing else. 

He eyed the clothes around them and pulled out a dress. "I'm thinking more something like this."

It was long and black, the design very simple. At the very least, it didn't make her feel sick. 

Victoria sighed. "Oh, Eric. That is too boring for someone like her. Simplistic and ordinary simply won't do." 

Her next move seemed to be to choose the most outrageous colors, many of them so bright they made Antigone's eyes hurt. 

Chapman jumped in again to her relief. A very bizarre back and forth ensued between the two and all she could do was watch and try to make sense of words like bouffant and column and trumpet.

It was all too much. She grabbed the two dresses Chapman was currently holding and disappeared into the small changing cubicle behind a curtain.

The flourescent light made her look even paler in the huge mirror than she usually did. She hung up the two dresses on the small rail at the wall. One of them was a dark blue, the folds resting elegantly against each other. The second one was a deep red and very soft to the touch, like water flowing through her hands. They were beautiful and didn't make her skin crawl at all. Until she imagined herself undressing and putting them on. 

"And? How do they fit?" The sound of Chapman's voice made anger flare up in her. She would already be long gone and back in her mortuary if he hadn't involved himself. She drew the curtain aside, grabbed him by his suit jacket and dragged him inside. 

"This is all your fault," she hissed at him and jabbed a finger into his chest. 

"Uhm. Wh-what?", he stuttered.

She could swear he was starting to blush. 

"If you hadn't meddled, none of this would have happened," Antigone continued. "Now, I'm stuck here with these harpies, looking at dresses I will never be able to wear and it's all your fault!"

Chapman finally seemed to be able to snap out of his daze. "You were the one who told everyone I was going to this dance with you!"

He was right, of course. But she could never admit that. 

"There was no reason for you to go along with it," she insisted.

"I didn't want to embarrass you!" Chapman said. "Why do you always have to make everything so bloody difficult? You never let me help you out!" 

"Because competitors don't just help each other out," she insisted.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Let's just get out of here."

Antigone looked back at the dresses wistfully one more time and then left the cubicle followed by Chapman. 

One of the women Antigone couldn't remember the name of stared at them with an odd look on her face. "What were you two doing in there?"

In retrospect, Antigone maybe shouldn't have pulled him into a small private area. One could get up to all sorts of activities in there. Especially with Eric Chapman. The thrilling line between public and private. The danger of being discovered any-

"Giving some input on the dresses," Chapman interrupted her thoughts. "Nothing else." 

He clearly didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. Even the rumor of a dalliance with someone like her would be a stain on his reputation after all. Which was fine because she didn't want anyone to think there was anything between them either. 

The other woman nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. 

Victoria was nowhere to be seen. The door towards the back of the store was open, she had to be in there. This was Antigone's chance to get away. 

"I'm still undecided on the dress. I need to sleep on it. It's a big decision," she said. "There's a funeral tomorrow, so I have to leave now."

She didn't wait for a response, before storming out. And of course Chapman followed her. He probably wanted to talk. Something Antigone really wasn't in the mood for right now. She quickened her pace, but he kept up with her. Her rescue came in the form of Sid Marlowe. 

"Eric! Wait up!"

Chapman did actually stop. Everything else would have been impolite after all. "I'm busy right now, Sid, can't this wait?"

In the fashion of a true journalist, Sid Marlowe didn't let himself be brushed off, rambling something about council announcements. Antigone didn't linger to find out what that was about.

She came back to Funn Funerals, only to be greeted by Rudyard. And if anything could make her mood even worse, it would be her wretched brother. 

"What took you so long? And where are the flowers?" 

She sneered at him. "I didn't get any!"

Rudyard crossed his arms in front of his chest and sighed with exasperation. "What are we supposed to do now? Can you ever just do what you're told, Antigone?" 

"I don't care what you do now! I'm going to embalm Mrs. Warren. The job I am actually meant to be doing. Goodbye!"

And finally, finally she was back in her mortuary. No Victoria, no Chapman, no Rudyard, no people. Not alive ones anyway. Just as it was supposed to be.

For the next few days, she was allowed to blissfully stay there and spend her time embalming and reading. It was almost like the boutique disaster had never happened. As per usual, her contentment wasn't meant to last.

"Antigone!" Georgie shouted from the top of the stairs. "There's a package for you!"

A strange occurrence. The only packages that had ever been delivered to her were work instruments or replacement parts she had ordered. Nothing was supposed to arrive. 

Antigone dreaded surprises. They were just disasters you couldn't prepare yourself for. She also knew that Georgie would nag her until she opened it. Their assistant was too curious for the Funns' good. So, she came up the stairs and located Georgie in the kitchen.

"Antigone! Did you hear me?", the assistant shouted while staring at a thin but wide box in her hands.

"I'm right here," she answered and watched Georgie flinch at her sudden presence. 

"Open it!"

Antigone took the box and stared down at it. "You don't think it could be a bomb or poison?"

Georgie shook her head. "Nah. If it were something like that, it would be addressed to Rudyard, not you."

A compelling argument, admittedly. With Georgie's stare urging her on, she cut through the tape on the package with her fingernails and opened it. All she could see was thin packing paper. Slowly, she lifted it up and underneath was a red dress. The red dress. From the boutique.

"Looks pretty," Georgie said. "Any idea who sent it?"

Antigone dropped the box and turned on her heels. There was only one person who could have sent it. And how dare he! 

It only took her a few seconds to cross the square and barge into Chapman's with her worst scowl. It was empty except for Eric Chapman putting up flyers into a shelf. "Very sorry, but we're closed-" He shut up as he turned around and saw who had entered. His eyes widened and he retreated against the shelf with her coming closer. Antigone felt a smidge of satisfaction. 

"Why did you sent me the dress!" She said it more as a demand than a question.

"Uh, you seemed to like it the other day," Chapman answered. "Something to wear for the dance."

"I'm not going to the dance!" 

"I thought we were going together."

She groaned. "That was something I said to get away from Victoria. You have no obligation to go with me, and I have no obligation to go at all."

He straightened his suit jacket. "Well, I already said I would. And I'm a man of my word."

"The very last thing in the world I need is Eric Chapman selflessly sacrificing himself to accompany me to a dance."

He sighed. "It's not selfless. The opposite in fact. I want to go with you. Selfishly."

Antigone didn't know how to respond to that. The idea of Chapman wanting to spend time with her seemed absurd. He was probably still hung up on the idea of being friends with Funn Funerals. And it wasn't like he seemed to despise the occasions, when they had spent time together. Maybe it wasn't as big a sacrifice for him as she had originally assumed. And Victoria would be speechless if she actually showed up with him.

"Fine, we can go together," she said.

The probably trademarked Chapman Sunshine Man smile returned. 

"I am doing this as a favor to you," she continued. "That means you owe one to Funn Funerals."

"A carte blanche to Funn Funerals? That sounds dangerous," he replied. "But I am willing to take that risk." 

"And I will not wear the dress."

" You can wear whatever you want, but I won't take the dress back."

She rolled her eyes. 

His expression turned serious again. "Antigone, I feel like I should-"

The door to the funeral home opened.

"Eric! I seem to have lost my notes for the council announcements again. I need another-" Sid Marlowe abruptly stopped talking, before hurrying back out. "Nevermind, I'll find someone else!"

Antigone looked back at Chapman and caught a glimpse of cold rage, before his features smoothed over into a smile again. If it hadn't been for Sid Marlowe's reaction, she would have thought she imagined it. How strange.

"You were about to say something?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Oh, it was nothing important. Merely looking forward to spending an evening with you. Thank you for going. With me."

This was definitely becoming too friendly. "I have a condition." 

"Yes, sure, whatever you want," He really shouldn't agree to terms he hadn't heard yet. That could land him in a lot of trouble.

"No business talk. I don't want you stealing clients right in front of my nose. I couldn't take a whole night of that."

He laughed. "Alright, alright. Same goes for you. Just a nice night out without being competitors."

'If we're not competitors, then what are we?' Antigone thought to herself. 'Friends?'

"It's settled then," she said instead and held out her hand to shake on it. An awkward gesture she felt silly about immediately, but Chapman seemed unbothered and took her hand. And of course his hand was soft and his grip just the right amount of firm and the other places this hand could go-

Antigone let go of and turned around to leave. "Goodbye, Chapman!"

A faint "Enjoy yourself" followed her outside, cut off by the door closing. 

She really needed to return to her mortuary to collect her thoughts and calm down. Dissect this whole interaction until she could figure out what Eric Chapman was planning on accomplishing with this whole mess.

Too bad that Georgie intercepted her right after entering Funn Funerals. "Why's Eric Chapman sending you dresses?"

"One dress. Singular," Antigone replied. "He wants to accompany me to this school alumni dance and probably doesn't think I have the attire for it." Which she didn't. But it was rude of him to assume that.

"And?" Georgie asked.

"And what?"

"Are you going with him?"

Antigone sighed. "Yes, but only because he pestered me so much. I have no idea why this is so important to him." 

"Maybe he fancies you," Georgie said calmly as if it wasn't the most ridiculous thing anyone had ever said.

"That is the most ridiculous thing anyone has ever said. Be serious, Georgie! We're talking about Chapman here. He must have some agenda," Antigone snapped.

Her assistant shrugged. "Either way you get a fancy new dress out of it, paid by Chapman. Sounds like a win to me."

"If only I could actually wear it," she murmured.

"Why can't you? Looks about the right size to me."

Today was clearly not one of Georgie's brighter days. "Look at the dress and then look at me!" 

"Antigone, mate, I think you would look great in it. At least try it on. It's not like anyone can see you in your room. If you don't like it, just take it off and shove it under your bed."

Georgie really decided to be sensible  at the worst of times. 

"I could see me!" Antigone replied. "You wouldn't understand!"

"Alright, fine. How about this: you try on the dress and I'll wear something that makes me uncomfortable. We'll do it together," she suggested.

"What sense does that make? We would just both be uncomfortable then!" 

"We'll both leave our comfort zone together. Supporting each other and such," Georgie kept going. "Remember when you wanted to see me stressed out? It's like that, but for each other!"

Antigone was curious what type of outfit could make Georgie uncomfortable. And if she already offered. She could be right and maybe it would be easier with her there in the same situation. And the dress was really beautiful.

"Fine. I seem to agree to an awful lot of things I don't want to do today."

Georgie clapped her hands. "Ha! I'll have Jen come by tonight after work to bring something, we can get right on it!"

"Don't tell Rudyard about Chapman!" Antigone warned her. "I don't want him meddling and ruining everything."

Georgie nodded. "I know, I know."

Finally, Antigone was able to seek solace in her mortuary again. She really needed the quiet. Her nerves left her jittery and she decided to leave the more delicate work that needed to be done to the next day. 

She wasn't ready, when she heard Jennifer Delacroix's voice upstairs. Then again, she probably never would be ready, so might as well get it over with.

Antigone was greeted by Georgie and her girlfriend looking through two suitcases filled to the brim with clothes. 

"Hello, Antigone! Georgie told me all about her idea and I thought I could maybe join you and then talk about the experience on air." She must have noticed Antigone's trepidation at that statement, quickly adding "Without naming names, of course!"

Antigone sighed. "Let's just get this over with."

The other two closed the suitcases and followed her towards her old bedroom. And of course Rudyard had to notice.

"What's this fuss all about then?" he asked.

"Just trying on some clothes, sir," Georgie replied. "Jen found a few things."

Rudyard scoffed. "Trying on clothes? What are you doing that for? You're all wearing clothes that fit you already."

Georgie shrugged. "Just for fun."

Rudyard followed them to Antigone's bedroom looking sceptical. "Antigone always wears the same dress. She's never put on clothes for fun."

She glowered at him. "Scram, Rudyard! We don't need your miserable face around."

As per usual, he wasn't ready to just give up and leave. He decided to stand in the doorway with his arms folded in front of his chest. "I refuse to leave until you tell me what's going on."

"If you stay, you have to participate," Georgie said. "You got anything for Rudyard to try on, Jen?"

Jennifer pulled out a garish orange t-shirt with the phrase 'I would flex but I like this shirt' in a green font on it. "This one here would look great on you, I'm sure!"

Rudyard's eyes widened at the sight and he turned around to leave without another word. Antigone slammed the door shut behind him.

"So, how do we do this?" she asked.

"I'll go first," Georgie said and started undressing. 

"Jesus, Georgie! You can't just do that!" Antigone shrieked and turned around. 

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Jennifer quipped. 

Antigone could feel the blush hot on her neck and face. "Yes, well, I can live quite happily without seeing any of my employees undressed."

"Whatever's comfortable, mate," Georgie replied and from the sounds of it, she was now rummaging through the suitcases. Couldn't she have chosen something before losing her clothes?

"Oh, this one's horrible. Perfect!" Georgie sounded delighted, a very strange reaction in this situation.

"Where did you get the clothes anyway?" Antigone asked to distract herself.

Jen giggled. "My parents' basement! They go through a new fashion phase every two years and keep everything in case it becomes fashionable again."

No one in the Funn family during Antigone's life had ever cared about fashion. All the men had worn black ties, black suits and white shirts and the women some variation of black dress. Always ready for a funeral. Their father had been quite furious, when their mother had given Rudyard a sweater vest for his 9th birthday. Her brother had refused to give it back though and integrated sweater vests in his outfits ever since. Antigone had gotten a second-hand black dress a week later that Father approved of. 

While she was lost in her thoughts, Georgie had gotten dressed. "You can look now"

Antigone turned around and next to a Jennifer who looked like she was trying desperately not to laugh was Georgie. Although she probably wouldn't have recognized her if she didn't know who was standing in front of her. There was something that her brain refused to connect to Georgie with the image before her. The light pink, frilly dress she was wearing seemed more appropriate for a toddler. It had tiny white bows around the hemline. It seemed impossible to move at a normal speed in with the different layers of cloth. 

Georgie looked at herself in the dirty, slightly cracked mirror to the side of the room. A disgusted look came over her face. "Oh, this is so bad!"

"I don't know, I think you could pull it off," Jennifer said. "All you need is a big, very pink bow for your head. To complete the look!"

Georgie scowled at her for a second, before both of them started bursting into roaring laughter and twirling around.

Antigone couldn't even fathom laughing about her own discomfort, but her assistant had an easier time than her with so many things. 

"Now look here! What is going on there?" Rudyard shouted just outside the door.

"We're naked!" Georgie answered. Antigone really hoped that her brother didn't think she was included in that statement.

They could hear Rudyard gasp loudly. "Georgie! You know that nudity is forbidden in this house! I told you so on your very first day with Funn Funerals!" 

"Sorry, Rudyard, won't happen again!"

"I will leave now to take a walk with Madeleine and when we get back, everything better be in order and everyone appropriately dressed, you hear me?!" He didn't wait for an answer, his voice getting quieter as he hurried away.

"Good, I really didn't want him to see me like this. Do you believe me now, when I tell you that I'm uncomfortable?" Georgie asked Antigone with a grin.

"Yes," she answered. "But you don't seem to feel bad about it."

Jen picked at one of the bows on the dress and smiled. "Well, it's easier, when you can laugh about it. Find the humor in an absurd situation, makes it easier to deal with it."

"She is great at making a bad situation better. Being with her makes me feel like i can get through anything," Georgie said. The way she looked at her girlfriend just then made Antigone's heart clench. She'd known Georgie for years, but that soft smile only ever showed up around Jennifer Delacroix. She was happy for her, but the thought that no one would ever look at Antigone that way felt like a stab through the heart.

Jennifer cleared her throat. "How about I go next?"

Antigone turned around before she started undressing. She needed to see her employee's girlfriend naked even less. She didn't take as much time as Georgie to get dressed. 

Jennifer ended up wearing a white blouse with a tie and a blazer. Antigone thought she looked good in it, except for the sour expression on her face. 

"This makes me feel like I'm in school again. I hated wearing my school uniform back then. I felt like just another face in the crowd. Nothing but conformity."

As miserable as her time in school had been, Antigone had always liked the uniforms. That way the other children at least didn't make fun of how she dressed. Still, they found plenty of other things wrong with her. She would have given a lot just to be another face in the crowd, to be normal and conform.

"My first day in school, they tried to make me wear a skirt," Georgie said. "I put it on the headmaster's dog instead. They called Nana to complain, but she just thought it was hilarious!"

Georgie clearly hadn't fit the normal bracket in school either and was all the better for it today. Maybe Antigone could get there someday, too. 

"You were allowed to wear trousers after that then?" Antigone asked.

Georgie laughed. "I wore whatever I wanted after that."

Now, it was time for her to put on the dress. 

"Go outside, please." 

The other two looked at each other before stepping outside the room. 

Antigone picked up the box Georgie had placed on the bed she rarely ever used. She opened the lid and the dress was still in there, flowy and deep red. If she waited too long, she would lose her nerve and never try it. Rip the band-aid off and all that. Slipping out of her dress was easy enough, she had done it many times even in complete darkness after all. Hurrying to put on the red dress proved to be more difficult. One of the long sleeves got stuck and she had a hard getting her head through the appropriate hole.

After a particularly loud groan of frustration, Georgie knocked on the door. "You okay in there?"

"Yes, give me a minute!" Antigone shouted back. 

She managed to de-tangle the sleeve, oriented her head correctly and pulled the dress down. Her hands reached the zipper, but she wasn't flexible enough to pull it all the way up.

"Georgie, I need some help!"

Her assistant slipped into the room and stared at her for a moment before figuring out the problem. She zipped her up and called Jennifer in. 

The two of them looked at Antigone with an expression she couldn't quite interpret.

"And? Is this one of those laugh to make ourselves feel better situations?"

Georgie shook her head. "Nah, mate. You look really amazing." 

A part of Antigone was convinced this was a lie, either to make fun of her or spare her feelings, but that wouldn't be like Georgie at all. She usually didn't have any qualms about calling out the Funns, when they were weird or went overboard.

 "It's true, you're beautiful. The red suits you well," Jennifer added.

As the voice of Piffling FM, she had talked about Funn Funerals and its proprietors plenty of times and never in a positive way. It seemed unlikely she would outright lie. 

So, maybe Antigone just had to accept that at least two people thought this beautiful dress suited her. That thought gave her enough confidence to step in front of the mirror. She looked at herself, her eyes immediately drawn to the mess of her hair, even more tangled than usual after her fight with the dress. Yes, the dress. It was just the right size, fitting her perfectly. How else could it be coming from Eric Chapman? It was actually quite nice to know he paid enough attention to her to get it right. The dark red was a stark contrast to her pale skin, but it didn't look bad. All in all, she looked rather elegant. And maybe like she belonged in that dress after all. 

The other two women in the room shuffled behind her a bit awkwardly.

"I guess you have plenty of time to decide whether to wear it or not. Party's next week, right?" Georgie asked.

Antigone nodded still staring at herself in the mirror.

"How about we take some pictures?" Jennifer suggested.

Before Antigone could protest, Georgie had already jumped in. "I don't care how much I love you. If you take a picture of me in this, I will kill you. No one will find your body in the mortuary, I can promise that."

Jennifer smiled at her. "I love you, too."

They really were sweet. To be in love and have someone love you back. How beautiful that must be.

"You wouldn't be interested in going to the dance, too, would you?" Antigone asked. She would feel better with someone in her corner.

Georgie shook her head. "Nah. We're not invited and since the town will be mostly empty, we might be able to get into one of the restaurants and have a quiet date for once."

Pity.

Timmy was waiting for the two of them at home for his nightly walk, so they got dressed in their regular clothes and left quickly. 

Antigone also swapped back to her drab black dress. She carefully placed the red one back into the box and put it on a shelf in the mortuary. She wanted to wear it to the dance. She didn't want anyone to see her in it. She wanted Eric Chapman to compliment how she looked in it. She wanted to shove it back in his face. A week to decide. Horrendous. 

Over the next few days, she ended up wearing the dress three more times. And she liked it. But wearing it in front of people was something else entirely. Georgie didn't ask her about it anymore. A part of Antigone wished she would. 

The day before the dance, it turned out that Rudyard was the only one who wanted to talk to her about the dance. He stormed into the mortuary, red in the face and out of breath.

"Antigone...!" He gasped for air. 

"Yes, Rudyard? Why are you bothering me?"

"I was talking to Mrs. Beetley earlier, asking about her dead uncle. And she told me the most unbelievable thing! That you were going to that ridiculous alumni dance with Chapman!"

Oh dear. He just had to find out, didn't he.

Rudyard evidently wasn't done yet. "Surely, I said, surely, my own sister and more importantly business partner would not stoop to such depths of betrayal. This must be some lie Chapman is spreading for one of his schemes!" 

Antigone sighed. This is exactly why he never should've found out. "It's a business move, Rudyard. I'm keeping Chapman from advertising his business at the event that most of the town will participate in." It wasn't entirely a lie.

Rudyard wasn't satisfied with that. He was in a rage and nothing would calm him down so easily. "He's not even invited! He's only there because you are taking him!" 

"You really think Eric Chapman wouldn't show up at the biggest party of the month? I'm doing damage control, Rudyard."

Her brother pondered this. "Well I should be there, too. I'm not sure you can handle it by yourself."

"I can handle it perfectly fine! Besides, you already buried your invitation with Mrs. Warren, you can't go!" Hopefully, that would shut him up. "And don't you dare think about digging her back up!" 

"There's no need for that! I'll find someone to take me as their extra one," he said.

"Plus one," she corrected. "And there's no one on the island who would do that. What kind of person would want to go to a dance with you?"

'Or with me, for that matter.'

"I will be at that dance if it's the last thing I do!" With that, Rudyard stormed out of the mortuary to God knows where. She should probably stop him from harassing the citizens of Piffling Vale, but she really didn't have the patience right now. Maybe they would be lenient with him after all the fun they had with the pirate mayhem last week.

She was still angry and Rudyard was gone, so she chose the next best target. Chapman. Why was he walking around telling people about the dance?

It didn't take long for her to cross the square and enter Chapman's. It was empty which had turned out to be not that rare of a sight after he had shut down his side businesses. Even the man himself wasn't here. Antigone stood awkwardly in the entrance before slinking into the one dark corner of the room to wait. She looked around the comfortable sitting area and shiny furniture. It was very nice. If only the annoying music would stop playing. 

She must have waited half an hour until Chapman finally came back. As soon as he entered, he collapsed into a chair out of sight from the square and ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. He looked exhausted. Antigone felt like she was intruding on him.

"Hello, Chapman."

"Aah!" A startled Chapman jumped out of the chair. "Antigone! Sorry, didn't see you there. Hello!"

The exhaustion was gone from his posture and he smiled at her. Fascinating how quickly he could pull himself together. The only thing that betrayed his previous state under the cheerful demeanor was a tension in his jaw that made the smile seem a bit forced.

"Everything alright, Chapman?" she asked. 

"Hm? Oh yes, of course. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix. Bit of a long day, I suppose," he said.

Antigone glanced at the fancy digital clock behind him. "It's barely noon."

"So it is!" An awkward pause followed. "Anything you wanted from me?"

"Yes!" Antigone pointed at him. "I'm mad at you! And don't think you being miserable is going to get you out of that!" 

Chapman chuckled. She didn't expect that. "I'm serious!"

He held up his hands in a placating way. "Sorry, sorry. What are you mad about then? I need to know what I should be apologizing for, after all."

"Rudyard found out about me and you going to the dance! Why are you going around telling people about us?" That sounded wrong. Like they were in some sort of relationship.

"Us going together," she amended.

"I didn't go around telling people. I had to tell the reverend and Mrs. Beetley I had plans because we had to reschedule the rehearsal for her uncle's funeral. I told them about the dance and they asked who my date would be." He hesitated for a second. "Should I have lied?"

 Date. He had called her his date. It was nothing more than a turn of phrase surely. He didn't mean anything by it.

"Antigone?"

"Sorrysorry." She shook her head trying to remember what he said. "No, of course you shouldn't have lied. Maybe you could have told them to keep it a secret."

"If I had done that, that particular piece of information would be already all around the island," Chapman said. "Small village and all that."

He was right and it was hard to even pretend to be angry at him anymore. Especially after seeing him in such a state earlier. 

"Look." He ran a hand through his hair again. Nervous gesture maybe? "I never wanted to force you into anything. If you don't want to go, it's fine. I won't hold it against you or try to pressure you or anything."

How odd. He was so insistent after sending her the dress. 

"You're not getting out of this that easily, Chapman! I already told Rudyard I would be going with you despite his protests and I won't have him think that he can make me do anything!" 

"Right," Chapman said slowly. "Can't have Rudyard thinking that."

"And if anything you're my date, not the other way around!" Antigone didn't know why she said that. It's not like she wanted this to be a date. She left the funeral home with a wide-eyed Eric Chapman staring after her. He didn't even tell her to enjoy herself.

Antigone hadn't seen her brother since the day before, when he had left the mortuary. Who knew what he had been up to in the meantime. Unfortunately, that meant, there was no one to distract her. It was almost time to leave for the dance now. She was wearing the dress, after putting it on and taking it off three times. She briefly considered faking a terminal illness, but that didn't seem feasible in the long-term. She glanced at the mirror. What was she thinking? She couldn't wear this! She probably still had enough time to-

"Antigone!" Chapman. Why was he already here?

She hurried up the stairs from the mortuary, missing a step and almost falling. She managed to regain her balance just in time. 'Truly a class act, Antigone.'

"Sorry, i was knocking and no one opened, so I just let-" Chapman suddenly stopped.

He was looking at her with his mouth slightly open. Christ, he had to think she looked horrible to be literally stunned.

"What are you gaping at, Chapman?" 

He blinked and closed his mouth. "You're wearing the dress."

"Yes. It would've been a waste to let it be eaten by moths in the closet," she replied.

"You look..." She saw him swallow and look her up and down. "...good. Not just, not just good. You look really very..."

"Good?" she supplied with raised eyebrows.

"Yes." He ran his fingers through his hair ruining the styled perfection just a smidge. "I'm glad you decided to wear it. I was hoping, but... Of course it's your decision!"

Chapman was reacting quite strange. He rarely ever was blabbering on like that. In fact, she had only ever seen it once, a few weeks ago, when he had caught her with Dr. Edgware at the cinema.

He pointed at his chest. "See? I'm wearing a matching tie, just in case!" 

She studied his outfit. Naturally, he looked great in a black suit, white shirt and the indeed matching red tie. Which reminded her of something. Antigone walked up to the dresser next to the kitchen door and picked up a single red carnation she had bought earlier at Petunia's. Chapman had followed and was standing right next to her.

She cleared her throat and pushed the carnation towards him. "For you."

"Oh. Uhm. Thank you," he said and took it carefully.

"It's a boutonnière. You're supposed to put it on your lapel," she explained after he still hadn't moved a few seconds later. 

"I know that. I don't have a corsage or any flowers for you, though. Sorry." He looked at her sheepishly.

He was worried about the strangest things. It wasn't like she expected him to give her anything. "Considering you bought me a dress I think you're fine."

"Right. If you say so." He still didn't sound convinced, but fumbled the carnation to his lapel. 

From how he was speaking to his general demeanor, Antigone could only conclude that he was nervous. Whatever could Eric Chapman be nervous about?

She glanced at his wrist watch. "We should leave, unless you want to be late."

They left Funn Funerals and started the walk towards St. Clôt's. Chapman was fidgeting next to her and she wondered if he was bothered by the silence. Georgie had told her once that a lot of people had trouble not having conversations and being quiet. She decided to take pity on him.

"You're lucky Rudyard wasn't there. He would have thrown a proper fit seeing us together."

"I'm sure that's true. What is he up to anyway?" he asked.

"The last I heard of him he wanted to get into the dance at all costs. Even if it means going with someone else."

"Shouldn't he have gotten an invitation as an alumnus? Unless the committee purposefully forgot to give him one. Wouldn't surprise me." Chapman shook his head, probably remembering the recent times Rudyard had been an utter nuisance and annoyance to the village as a whole. 

It really wouldn't have surprised Antigone either. But then again to her knowledge, Victoria never had the displeasure of spending any time with her brother. "No, he received one. It just ended up as coffin padding."

"Of course it did." 

At this point, they could already hear the thrumming of loud music. 

"I heard Miss Scruple is in charge of music for the night," Chapman said. "Let's hope her DJ skills are more consistent than her organ playing."

Antigone didn't much care whether the music was good or not. It's not like she would get to dance anyway. She would look for a quiet corner near the food and drinks and spend her night there. With all the other people around, Chapman was unlikely to miss her. 

"Let's go in together," he said.

Aren't we already? she wanted to say. Then, she noticed that he offered his arm to her. So that's what he meant. Walking into a room full of people on the arm of Eric Chapman. Hardly the quiet entrance she had planned. 

Carefully, she placed her hand on his bicep. Even through the suit, she could tell he was muscular. Obviously. Bloody gorgeous, horrible Chapman. 

The entrance was guarded by one of Victoria's entourage. It was the one that had caught them outside the dressing room cubicle. Of course Victoria wouldn't stoop to such lowly work herself. 

"So, you actually are here together! Welcome!" She crossed their names off a list. "Come inside and have a jolly fun time!"

Chapman thanked her and led Antigone towards the assembly hall where the dance floor was set up. 

Whatever music was playing sounded loud and obnoxious and she had no desire to actually enter. 

"I think I will stay out here for a bit," she said and let go of Chapman. 

"Of course!" he said. "Too loud for conversation in there, I suppose." 

And then he made no move towards the hall and instead stayed with her. She had expected him to rush towards the crowd immediately and be his annoyingly charming self forgetting all about her. 

He looked around. "Tell me something about your time here."

"There isn't much I enjoyed. The other pupils couldn't stand Rudyard or me. Called me Formalde-Heidi. Like formaldehyde. They also threw things at me."

She saw his jaw tense up at that. "Is that why Victoria was calling you Heidi? At Petunia's and the boutique?"

"Yes..." Antigone sighed. "I haven't heard the name in a while, but you never really leave your cruel childhood behind."

"Any good memories? Someone who was nice to you perhaps?" Chapman sounded almost desperate. She really didn't need his pity. She'd better come up with something positive.

"I always liked learning. Science especially. I had an amazing teacher, Miss Khatri. She always tried her best to encourage me and reign the other children in."

"I would have loved to meet her. She must have been amazing, recognizing how brilliant and passionate you are." Chapman was smiling at her. It wasn't his usual dazzling smile, this one seemed more unguarded and genuine. 

She felt her cheeks heat up. It would be fine if it were merely a compliment for compliment's sake, something he said because it was polite. But he actually seemed to mean it. 

"Eric!" 

Antigone wished they had entered the dance floor earlier. Horrendous music was still preferable to a second in Victoria Vogue's presence, listening to her barbs and slowly shrinking into a puddle of embarrassment.

Alas, she couldn't stop her from coming over to them.

"I hope you're having a jolly fun time!" Her eyes wandered to Antigone, as if she had just noticed her. "Oh Heidi, you're here as well!"

"That's not her name, you know." Chapman's voice sounded surprisingly steely and cold. The smile had vanished from his face. "I think you should apologize."

Victoria giggled in a pitch so high that it almost hurt the ears. Her smile seemed nervous. "I am sorry, Antigone. I have to go. Organizing. Alumni Committee duties! Just you wait, we will get you on the dance floor yet, Eric!"

She hurried towards the hall and disappeared. Antigone couldn't remember her ever apologizing to anyone, let alone the resident strange girl smelling of formaldehyde. 

"That was unnecessary," she commented. 

"I disagree, I think it was very necessary. You deserve to be treated with more respect than that," Chapman countered. "More importantly, would you like to dance with me?"

He was full of surprises tonight. Very committed to his role as her plus one. She might as well humor him. 

"Fine," she said. "If you can get Miss Scruple to play actual music." 

"That shouldn't be a problem! I'm doing her mother's funeral next week, after all. Anything specific in mind?"

Music had always been more Rudyard's forte. The only she knew was the one playing in the background of her French New Wave movies. She was the wrong person entirely to ask about this. 

"I'm sure you'll choose something fitting." 

They entered the assembly hall turned dance floor together. And right in front of them was Rudyard.

This evening just kept on getting worse. She was about to lift her dress up and start running. 

"How did you get in here?!"

Her brother pointed smugly at a paper star on his chest that read 'CHAPERONE'. Madeleine peaked out of the breast pocket next to it. She was wearing a tiny dress with an even tinier matching paper star.

"This is an adults only event," Chapman said. "Why would we even need a chaperone?" 

"Chapman! It's clearly so that no one here gets up to entirely inappropriate behavior. This is still a fine learning establishment and no place for debauchery! I was appointed by the committee!" Rudyard nodded along, as if he believed even a word of what he was saying.

Her brother turned his eyes towards her again and looked her up and down. "What in God's name are you wearing, Antigone?"

The dress. She had completely forgotten she was wearing the dress. Well, at least she had forgotten she was supposed to be insecure about wearing the dress. Leave it to Rudyard to bring it up again. 

"You've seen dresses before, haven't you?!"she snarled. 

"I've never seen you in a dress that wasn't black," he countered. "Although your usual attire would have been quite out of place here, naturally. At least, you decided to wear something modest." 

"I don't care about your opinion", she bit back. "Just leave me alone and try to make sure no one spikes the punch or whatever you're supposed to be doing."

Rudyard looked to the refreshment table at the far side of the room. "They wouldn't dare...!" He sped off towards his target.

"How long do you think it will take him to realize that the punch was made with vodka to begin with?" Chapman asked.

"Hopefully, the whole night."

He laughed. They both knew that was entirely a possibility.

"I'll just go talk to Miss Scruple about her music choice. I'll be right back." He made it only a few steps before Petunia had stepped in his way talking intently to him. With a whole room full of his fans, this would probably take a while. And now she couldn't even lurk near the food and drinks because her sodding brother was there.

"Antigone!"

Reverend Wavering weaved through a few if the dancing couples towards her. "Why, you look smashing tonight!"

She really wished no one else would comment on her appearance tonight. "Thank you..."

The reverend seemed genuinely excited to talk to her which was strange. "Dezzy is getting us some punch! How is it going with Eric?" 

The punch might explain his cheerful attitude then. 

"Kidnapped by Petunia Bloom, I'm afraid."

His eyes searched the crowd until he found the two. "Oh, I'm sure he'll make his great escape and return to you in no time!"

"Nigel! I have our drinks!" The mayor was making his way through the crowd with two glasses in hand, the liquid in them dangerously close to spilling. Seeing his husband's precarious situation the reverend hurried towards him shouting a "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" at Antigone. Whatever he meant by that.

Now, all she could do was stand awkwardly to the side of the dance floor and watch other people have fun. And even that she wasn't allowed to do in peace. A man that seemed vaguely familiar pointed at her, waved and came towards her just as the music changed from the upbeat screeching tune to a still cheerful one that was easier on the ears. Chapman had apparently been successful, but was nowhere to be seen. Unlike the stranger who came to a stop right in front of her. He was wearing an expensive suit, had slicked back black hair and a smarmy demeanor. 

"Hello there, beautiful!"

Again, a sense of deja vu overcame her. His bone structure, the way he spoke, his mannerisms...

"Hello..." she said. "I don't think I know you."

"But I know you! Antigone Funn! I owe you quite a lot, actually. Four estates and a hefty inheritance!"

This man was clearly out of his mind. "What."

He seemed unperturbed by her irritation and kept on speaking as if she hadn't said anything. "The last will and testament of my dear parents would have given everything to my brother! You knew him, he died on this shabby island! From what I gleaned, you played a big part in that."

And finally, she could place why he seemed so familiar. His brother. "Seymour Prophitte."

He laughed. "I knew you'd remember! I'm Montague Prophitte, but you can call me Money, like all the beautiful ladies do."

She would never in her life call him that. She saw no reason to even speak to him at all.

He took a step closer, clearly not understanding the basic concept of personal space. "Now, I'm obviously very grateful. So, I was thinking I could show that gratitude."

There must be something wrong with her to attract the ilk that was the Prophitte brothers. 

"Not necessary," she answered with gritted teeth.

Montague Prophitte's eyebrow twitched. Clearly, he wasn't used to being told no.  "I have a very nice hotel-"

"Ah, Antigone! I'm back." For once, the arrival of Eric Chapman was actually a good thing. Otherwise, she might have just caused a scene by killing another member of the Prophitte family.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Montague Prophitte," the other man replied. "Now, we were busy if you could just leave us be."

"Very sorry, can't do," Chapman said in a voice that indicated he wasn't very sorry at all. "Antigone promised me this dance and I'm very much looking forward to it." Without waiting for a response, he took her hand with one of his and placed the other on the small of her back to lead her towards the dancing crowd. 

His hand was as warm and soft as she remembered. She wondered whether he could feel the thundering pulse under her skin or the electricity that seemed to run all over it. 

He let go of her. Hopefully, the disappointment didn't show on her face. 

As he raised his arms expectantly, she realized that she had no idea how to do this. In the movies, they rarely showed the steps, it was usually all close-ups of faces and eyes staring at each other with longing.

"I don't know how to dance," she admitted.

"Oh. I can show you. If you want." 

It wasn't like she would get another opportunity like this. If he was willing, she might as well take him up on the offer. So, she nodded.

Her left hand was placed on his shoulder and he took her right one in his. The other one found a place at a respectable height just underneath her shoulder blade. Her poor heart started it's fast paced staccato up again. The distance between them was wide enough that a priest couldn't have found it indecent, but Antigone couldn't shake a feeling of terrifying intimacy as she looked up at his blue eyes watching her intently. She quickly cast her eyes down to their feet. 

She vaguely heard Chapman talk about which steps to take and counting. All she could think about was taking a step forward and letting herself fall into his chest and wrapping her arms around him. When he started moving, she tried to match him. It was disastrous. She stepped on his feet at least five times and once, their legs got tangled up and they almost fell to the ground.

Antigone mumbled her hundredth apology of the night and he assured her like all the times before that it was fine.

"Oh my, I think we should give Eric's feet a little break." A blonde woman Antigone had seen at town gatherings before was standing next to them. "Let me step in for a dance or two."

Obviously, someone had noticed her pathetic attempt at dancing. With Eric Chapman, no less. They were all probably wondering what he was even doing with her. Trying to teach her to dance out of pity and a misplaced sense of obligation. 

She stepped back and dropped her hands. "Please go ahead." 

Time to retreat towards the refreshments, after all. She heard Chapman calling after her, but decided not to turn around. It was no wonder she hadn't seen Rudyard around, he seemed to be busy trying all the finger food on display sneaking crumbs to Madeleine in his pocket. Joining him seemed to be a better idea than being all by herself at the moment.

"Antigone! Try the mini cucumber sandwiches, they're very edible. You didn't bring a bag, did you? We could bring some of the food with us!"

She sighed. "I don't. And I refuse to steal anything from here."

He went for the cheese platter next and Madeleine received a whole cube of gouda. "So, you finally got rid of Chapman? Took you long enough."

'Its more that he got rid of me,' she thought.

"Coming here was not such a bad idea after all," Rudyard said. "And Chapman hasn't even made one of his little attention-seeking scenes. Too bad Georgie isn't here."

Now that she was in front of the food and drinks, she really didn't feel like she could stomach any of it. "Let's go home, Rudyard."

He picked up a muffin. "Madeleine and I still have this side of the table to try! You can wait a little longer. Or leave by yourself."

Antigone usually liked being by herself. Other people were exhausting. But if she left by herself now, she would lock herself into her mortuary for the next 17 years again. Even the presence of her brother would be preferable at this moment.

"Is there something wrong?" Christ, Rudyard actually seemed concerned. She had to look rather terrible for him to pick up on it.

"Did Chapman do anything?" The muffin crumbled in his grip and Madeleine squeaked accusingly.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come off it, Rudyard. I merely have enough of this farce. It has nothing to do with Chapman."

"Didn't you want to keep him from securing more funerals? That's why you're here."

Why did he always have to make everything so difficult? Just once - once! - she wished he could do as she said.

"Chapman is too busy dancing and having fun to do any of that. So, we can leave."

"I'd rather dance and have fun with you." Speak of the devil. Eric Chapman really was keen on not leaving her alone tonight for some reason. 

"Now look here, Chapman! We have no interest in spending time with you! In fact, you've managed to ruin my appetite!" Rudyard shoved the destroyed muffin towards Chapman who caught it reflexively. 

"Listen, Rudyard, I really don't have the patience to deal with you right now, after the night I've had!" 

The gall this man had. She spent the entire night miserable, while he was off being the life of the party. Time to give him a piece of her mind.

"If you're having such a terrible time with me, Chapman, why don't you just leave me alone? I'm not making you dance or talk to me!"

That came out much louder than she intended. Even Rudyard seemed taken aback by her outburst. A few people around them were whispering. Chapman had visibly paled. 

Finally, he managed to open his mouth. "No, no. Antigone, that's not what I meant at all! Its not you, it's everyone else!" 

Before Antigone could even think about what he meant by that, Lady Templar materialized next to them, drawn to the drama like a bloodhound. "My, my, Eric, another public row with the Funns? Don't you have anything better to do?" 

Chapman was crushing the sad remains of the muffin in his hand now. "Thank you for your concern, Vivienne. It's only a small misunderstanding, so if you would leave us to it, we'll sort it out ourselves."

She trilled a high sarcastic laughter. "I have better things and people to do than you, anyway." She waltzed away paying them no more attention, towards more interesting dramatics. 

"If Lady Templar is here, why didn't you go with her?" Antigone asked. "I thought you two were..." 

Chapman shook his head and used a napkin to clean his hand off. "Not anymore. We broke up a bit ago."

"That happened a year ago, Antigone. Don't you remember that she wanted us for a funeral then? You really ought to pay more attention!" Rudyard chimed in. The irony of him telling her that. She would simply ignore him.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said instead.

Chapman grimaced. "Don't be, I've known for a while that it wouldn't work out. It's better this way. Much better. But enough about that. I would like to talk. To you. In private maybe?"

Rudyard stepped between them. "You will not take my sister to a second undisclosed location! I will not allow it!"

Antigone would have to talk to Agatha Doyle about telling her brother crime stories from the mainland. The paranoia and vocabulary he picked up was untenable. 

"I'm not trying to kidnap her," Chapman said. "I just want to talk to her without constant interruptions."

As if on cue, former headmistress Miss Stewart called out "Mr. Chapman!"

For a second, Antigone thought he was going to shout at the elderly woman, but he just nodded at her in greeting.

"I was hoping to see you here, my goldfish Henrietta just died this morning and she was such a sweetheart. She deserves a grand funeral and-"

"Miss Stewart, I'm very sorry for your loss, but it's my night off and I wasn't planning on any shop talk. Would you mind coming to Chapman's tomorrow instead?" he interrupted her.

"Or," Antigone jumped in. "You could talk to my brother here. We at Funn Funerals are there for our clients around the clock."

The former headmistress looked between the Funn twins with uncertainty. Maybe she even remembered them from their school days. Better hope not.

"What a grand idea!" Rudyard said and started to lead her away. "Let's go to someplace more quiet to figure out the details."

Chapman looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "And here I thought we agreed not to be competitors tonight." 

"Yes," she replied. "The two of us did. I never spoke on behalf of Rudyard."

He laughed. A strange response given the circumstances. "Fair enough, I suppose you win this round."

"Yes. Time to leave on a high note then." 

He raised his hands and stepped in front of her. "Please wait. When I talked about my night not being... ideal, I was not talking about you. I like spending time with you."

Her stupid, stupid heart really needed to give it a rest. This was like the circus all over again. He didn't mean anything by it.

"Even when I was flattening your feet?" 

He shrugged. "Oh, yes. The excitement of possible physical harm during a fox trot adds something exhilarating to the whole experience."

"Glad to hear that," she said. "But not even the prospect of another exhilarating experience like that can keep me here." 

His face fell. He looked absolutely miserable. 

"Don't look at me like that. It's not because of you. Coming here in the first place was a mistake. I think I did it because of my last school dance. I was by myself in the corner all night waiting for somebody to ask me to dance. No one even noticed me. Today showed me that experiences like this are not meant for me. People talked to me. You tried to teach me how to dance. It didn't make a difference, I was still miserable. I wanted to change the past, but I've only proven to myself that nothing has changed at all and it never will."

She hadn't meant to lament over her dreadful life, to Eric Chapman of all people. But it was out there now. Maybe she could finally leave.

He looked at her thoughtfully. Probably already figuring out how he could come out of this looking like a savior. "Let's go together," he said finally.

She shook her head. "You don't have to leave on my account."

"I didn't have a great night either and despite what you might think it won't get better without you here." 

He could be quite stubborn for a chronic people pleaser. 

"Antigone, please, all I want is for you to have one nice memory of tonight. It's clearly not happening here, so let's go somewhere else."

Sodding Eric Chapman with his beautiful blue eyes and soft voice and enticing lips.

"...fine."

Now he was giving her one of those rare genuine smiles. And then he took her hand. Like it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world. She let herself be pulled towards the exit. Someone called out "Oh, Eric!" next to them, but he ignored it and kept on walking, not stopping until they stepped out into the cool night air. He still didn't let go of her. She wanted to ask him what his plans were, but any interference seemed like it could shatter this strange moment where Eric Chapman stood against the night sky beautifully illuminated by moonlight wanting to be alone with her. 

"How about the beach?" he asked. "It's not that far."

Antigone didn't particularly like the beach. In her books and movies, it was a place of romance and longing, the crashing waves a poetic experience. The reality of it was that the sand got everywhere irritating her sensitive skin and getting caught in her hair, and the waves tended to float coffins out into the sea ruining another funeral.

"The beach," she echoed. "Yes."

They walked slower than before. There was no practical reason for him to hold her hand. It wasn't nearly dark enough for his phobia to make itself known. 

"What a beautiful night," he said and looked up to the stars. "You know how sometimes you want to bottle up a moment, so you can relive it again and again later?"

"Yes," she answered biting her tongue to not elaborate out loud. 'Like this one. Or when we were alone in the dark. Or our visit to the circus. And maybe even that night we spent digging up graves."

It was almost disappointing, when they arrived at the beach. Walking hand in hand across the island like this... it was quite nice. From a certain viewpoint maybe even romantic. 

"So, what are we doing now?" she asked him, sure that the moment was over anyway. 

"Why, we dance of course," he answered and lightly tugged at her hand, so she would step towards him. She did him the favor.

Despite the sudden closeness, she managed to roll her eyes. "We already did and it went horribly. I don't need a repeat performance of that. And there is no music."

"Let's try a different approach." He pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen until a song started playing. It was slower than anything played at the dance earlier, the singer crooning in a soft voice about love. Chapman let go of her hand, bent down and put the phone on a rock next to them.

He straightened up, smiled nervously and cleared his throat. "Put your arms around my neck."

What.

She was aware that she was staring at him, but couldn't help herself. He shuffled his feet and cleared his throat again.

"Different approach. You put your arms around my neck, I put my hands on your waist. We can just sort of... sway. No real steps. It's easier." He waited for a reaction from her for a few seconds. "If you don't want to, it's fine. Completely fine. I can walk you home. Forget this ever happened..."

He took a step back and finally, Antigone could break out of her stupor. She stopped his movement by stepping forward and putting her hands on his shoulders and then sliding them around the back of his neck. He shivered, when she touched his skin just underneath the hairline. A natural reaction to her cold hands, probably.

He looked stunned for a second. As if he wasn't the one who had proposed this in the first place. 

"Well? Get on with it, Chapman." That sounded harsher than intended.

He swallowed loudly. "Yes, right."

After a moment of hesitation, he put his hands on her waist gently, like he was afraid of startling her. And then, he began shifting his weight from side to side slowly swaying. She followed his movements. 

No need to look at her feet to get it right. But she couldn't look him in the eyes either, all of this was already intimate enough. So, she squarely kept her eyes trained on his tie. They stayed like this even after the son ended and a new one began. He wasn't saying anything, why wasn't he saying anything?

"This is easier," she finally croaked out. "Your feet are much safer."

"Hm, yes."

Maybe he didn't know what to say either. 

'You could always explain yourself, Eric Chapman,' she thought. 'Why is it so important to you that this night isn't a total disaster for me? You're friends with plenty of people, would you do this for them as well?'

"What are you thinking about?", he asked. She must have pulled a face of some kind.

She sighed. "I am wondering why you are doing all this."

"Is it so hard to believe that I simply want you to have a nice night out?"

"No. You are always meddling in my affairs trying to help me out, after all. But this here seems..." Intimate. Personal. Romantic. "...a bit much even for you. There has to be something else."

He exhaled a shuddering breath. "Yes, there is."

Finally, she looked up to meet his gaze. Her heart lurched at the open and vulnerable expression on his face. He stopped moving, his jaw clenched and he closed his eyes for a second as if to brace for impact.

"I'm in love with you."

Huh. A bad time for one of her fantasies. This was a serious conversation. She needed to pay attention to what he was saying.

"I think I've been for a while. It took me a while to realize. And after that... You seemed to despise me most of the time. I didn't know what I was supposed to do." 

Oh, Christ, he was actually saying this!

"Then, you told people we were going to this dance together and I don't know exactly why you chose me of all people, but I thought it was an opportunity. To show you that I would be a great date. To get you to like me. I bought the dress because I thought you liked it and you would look beautiful in it."

He glanced down at her and his cheeks reddened.

"And I was right, I guess. But that's not the point. I was too pushy and focused on myself and the dance ended up being horrible for you. And here I am trying to salvage some of this wreckage of a date only to end up talking about myself again."

He seemed to be done with his little speech.

She took a deep breath and tried to clear her head. "Can we go back to the part where you said you are in love with me?"

Chapman sighed. "I know it's ridiculous."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's ridiculous that you would be in love with me?"

"What? No!" He tightened his grip on her waist. "It's ridiculous that this is happening now. That I'm even trying. Maybe there was a time once you wouldn't have been...opposed. But now... Well, it's me who is ridiculous, really."

"You are sure that you're in love with me?" Antigone couldn't help but ask. "This is not pity or a midlife crisis or you just being severely emotionally confused?"

He groaned. "Yes, I'm sure! It's all I've been able to think about lately!"

"That doesn't mean much. You were so persistent with Georgie, you even proposed to her after one failed date."

He let go of her and ran his hand through his hair furiously, leaving it a complete mess. "This is nothing like Georgie! I know now that I wasn't actually in love with her. She just seemed like the right choice."

Antigone was not about to open up unless she knew he was right about his feelings. If only there was a way to test them.

She grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged his face towards her. Their lips crashed together with a smack that she could feel in her teeth. Chapman had not reacted at all. This was horrible. Just as quickly as she had initiated the kiss, she pushed him away again and buried her face in her hands.

This might actually claim the number one spot for most humiliating moment of her life. Unbelievable that this would be her first and last kiss. Of course Chapman would realize that he couldn't be with her after that.

Just as she was internally debating whether she should just throw herself into the sea, she heard a sound she couldn't remember hearing ever before. Eric Chapman was giggling. 

She peeked at him through her fingers and he was looking at her with an absolutely delighted grin.

"You kissed me!"

She let her hands fall down and scowled at him. "It was bad." 

"But you kissed me!" he repeated as if it was the best thing that had ever happened to him in his life. He looked like he was about to perform a dance number. The ridiculous kind out of a children's movie.

God, Eric Chapman was actually in love with her. There was no other explanation for this deranged behavior. What was she supposed to do now?

"Get ahold of yourself, Chapman!"

He calmed down a bit, but the stupid grin was still on his face. "Sorry, sorry. That made me very happy."

Now, him saying that made her chest flush with a warm feeling. She would need at least two months in the mortuary to process whatever all of this was. And then another ten to actually work out how to proceed.

Chapman apparently didn't need a year long break to figure that out. "Can I kiss you back?" he asked.

The second one would be better. Probably. And she had already kissed him, so it wasn't escalating anything too much. She could always throw herself into the sea or disappear in the mortuary afterwards. 

"If you want to," she said and tried her best to be nonchalant, but her voice was shaking. 

He cupped her jaw with his hand and angled her head before leaning into her. Their lips met gently. This time, he very much participated in the kiss. He pulled back too early for her liking. 

Well, that was... better. It was a fairly innocent kiss, nothing like the ones she usually read about, but her insides felt hot and like they were squirming around anyway. 

"Not so bad now, was it?" he asked her and she wanted to kiss that grin off his face. Instead she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his shoulder. His arms came around her tightly to reciprocate the hug.

"I don't despise you," she mumbled into his suit jacket.

This close to him, she could actually feel his chuckle more than hear it. 

"I can tell."

She loosened her grip a little to pull back enough to look at his face. "When did you realize?"

"Huh?"

She could hardly blame him for having trouble keeping up. After all, she still felt dazed herself.

"When did you realize that you're... you know?"

"In love with you? Well..." A deep blush started to color his cheeks. Christ, it was adorable. "At the cinema, when you and Henry were...erm."

She laughed out loud which made him blush even more. "That's why you were so awkward. You were jealous!"

"Jealous is a strong word. Seeing you with someone else made me feel... not great. Especially in the cinema. Which is where the two of us go. I'm always looking forward to seeing you there. The weeks before that, I searched and purchased movies specifically because I thought you might like them."

The only thing that might be more embarrassing than Chapman not realizing he was in love with her while doing this would be Antigone not even suspecting he might like her.

"Then why would you try to play matchmaker?" she asked.

"I wanted you to be happy. At the time, Henry seemed like the better choice for you. I would be lying if I said I wasn't glad it didn't work out, though." He kissed her cheek. "I appreciate you and your work, and you can talk to me about corpses whenever you like."

She closed her eyes in an effort not to cry. This was better than anything she could have imagined. Stupid Eric Chapman and his stupid nice words.

"You're shivering," he said. "Let me give you my jacket. It's late, we should probably head back."

They untangled. He took off his suit jacket and held it out for her. She slipped into it. The carnation was still pinned to the lapel. It looked a tad squished now. Chapman followed her gaze. "Oh, I need to preserve that, when I get home. Dry it, maybe. I think I have some silica gel left."

He even wanted to keep the flower she gave him. 

"Time to go, I think," he said and offered his hand. She took it and they started walking.

Tomorrow, she would wake up and probably wonder whether any of this was real. They would have to work out how a relationship between competitors could even work. Whether to tell other people. What to tell Rudyard. 

Chapman squeezed her hand. "Everything alright?" 

"I don't want tonight to be over yet. Tomorrow seems daunting." 

He slowed his steps. "Hm. You could come back to my place if you want."

To his place. In the middle of the night. Where his bed was. All by themselves.

"What are you insinuating, Chapman?!"

He only now seemed to realize how his words sounded. "Wha- Nothing like that! We could watch a movie! I have a few you might like. Or I could cook. You haven't eaten anything all night."

"That sounds... fine," she said, not at all disappointed by the clarification.

"And call me Eric. Please," he added.

"If you insist... Eric."

They arrived at the village square. Funn Funerals was cloaked in darkness. Her brother must already be asleep, no surprise there. It felt strange to walk towards Chapman's instead. 

Eric held the door open for her. She took his hand again and pulled him inside.