By: Tracy Kempsey

The first time Nick saw Cassie standing in the living room of his flat it was exactly six months after her funeral. She was standing in the same spot as the television, occupying the same space, nearly transparent.

Nick was carrying an armful of toiletries to his open suitcase on the sofa.  He frowned, “Cassie?”

There was no expression on the face of Cassie.  She looked straight at Nick and continued to stand, silently.  Nick didn’t get much further with his packing.  He left the living room and went into his bedroom where he dropped onto the bed, sitting with his head in his hands.

Some time later, Nick returned to the living room,  Cassie had gone.  Nick nearly missed his flight.  He got to the airport with minutes to spare.

….

In their new relationship Nick and Sarah were inseparable.  They couldn’t get enough of each other.  Nick was visibly buzzing and often wore a huge grin. After their return from the Maldives they settled into a routine of evenings on the sofa, long walks in the park, slow Sunday mornings.

“I’ve never been happier!” said Sarah, planting a kiss on Nick’s lips as they finished a meal at a local Italian restaurant.

 “I thought I was destined to be alone” beamed Nick. ” I think you are the love of my life, Sarah. I’ve spent so much of my life working and planning for the future….I think now it’s time for me to really start living.  Now that I’ve met you I feel ready to start thinking about us, where we’re going to live, the holidays we’re going to have! I want you here by my side forever.”

On a Friday evening some weeks later, Nick and Sarah were getting ready to welcome some friends of Sarah’s to the flat. Nick was feeling grateful for the chance to meet some new friends and was hopeful that the evening would go well.

As Sarah laid the table, Nick went to the bathroom to shower. Cassie was standing in the same space as the laundry basket.  Again, there was no expression.

“….uh, what? Cassie? Is that you? It can’t be you!” The colour drained from Nick’s face and he stumbled to the edge of the bath to sit.

“Did you call me, Nick?” asked Sarah from the table.

“No….it’s fine” Nick called towards the living room “Was just looking for my shaving gel” When we turned back, Cassie had gone.

Nick’s heart was beating so fast he could see his shirt moving above his chest.  He fought the rising nausea and set about slowly having a shave, taking deep breaths.

During dinner that evening, Sarah noticed Nick’s dishevelled appearance.  He wasn’t making much attempt at conversation with their guests, he seemed distracted. She noticed he had sweat stains on the armpits of his shirt.

“I hope you enjoyed this evening? I know how much you were looking forward to it” said Sarah as they finished the last of the washing up.

“Oh yes, it was great to meet them.  Sorry I’ve been a bit off…..think i might be going down with a virus….I just need a good sleep I think.”

…..

On a sunny Saturday afternoon, Nick was sitting on the balcony listening to the radio through the open French doors. Sarah was out on a shopping trip. He raised his cup for another sip of coffee.  Cassie was standing directly in front of him.

“This can’t be real!” Nick nearly shouted “There’s no way you can actually be here!” Nick started to shake. “Why are you here?” Cassie continued to stand in front of him.

“I know things weren’t always perfect between us, but you have to admit you were hard to live with sometimes.  I did actually love you.  I had to think about myself…I was unhappy. What do you want from me? Why are you here in my new flat? I’m trying to get on with my life……” Sweat had sprung up on Nick’s forehead

“This is ridiculous, there’s nothing I can possibly do for you now. Why don’t you leave me alone?”

The front door of the flat opened and Sarah came into the living room and put her bags down.  “Nick?” she called. “I thought I heard you shouting, are you ok? Who are you with?”

“No-one” answered Nick “I wasn’t shouting”

“You were definitely shouting. I heard you from the street.” Sarah was looking at Nick with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Nick walked into the bedroom and closed the door firmly behind him.

…..

It had been three days since Nick last went to work. His flat was in darkness in the middle of the day with all the blinds pulled down. He sat on the sofa. Among the half full coffee cups, food wrappers and dirty plates was his mobile phone, on the coffee table in front of him.  There were several unanswered messages from Sarah and some from his work colleagues.

Nick was staring blankly in front of him. He looked as if he was waiting.  In the pit of his stomach was a mass, maybe a stone or a rock. There was a constant feeling of dread that couldn’t be eased.

“Tell me what I should do!” Nick called out “I need this to stop. I’m at breaking point…I can’t go on like this.  I’ll do anything to make it stop.”

There was no-one there. He was alone in the flat.

“Of course, I’m sorry,” he continued “it was a snap decision.  Obviously if I could redo things I would do things differently. Tell me how I can make this stop!” he pleaded.

……

It was the following day and Nick was sitting in the same position on the sofa, the blinds still drawn and the flat in darkness again. He hadn’t slept.  He stared ahead and occasionally called out questions. There was no-one there to answer and the flat remained silent.

He got up from his seat and started to pace. He walked hurriedly from one end of the living room to the other. His appearance would have been shocking to Sarah if she had been able to see him.

His unwashed hair was standing up from his head. Black circles surrounded his eyes. His skin was grey and covered with a sheen of sweat. His expression was of a man in distress, caught up in a relentless living hell.

He walked over to the coffee table and picked up his mobile phone. He opened the web browser and started to type. After looking at the list of results he clicked on an option.

He held the phone to his ear.

“Hello.  Is that the central police station? Yes?. Good thank you. My name is Nick Moss.  I think you might be interested in talking to me.  I’m about to make my way to the police station.  I am going to confess to the murder of my wife Cassie Moss…..”