"We should get a cake."
     "A cake?" I enquired with lifted brow.
     "Yes," Nin answered calmly.
     "Right...why would we get a cake?"
     "It's something that people do when people die. They bring food."
     "It isn't a birthday party. It's a funeral--."
     "Grieving people need to eat."
     "Not cake,"I muttered.  
     "It feels rude to show up empty handed."
     "I think food is something only guests do for the family and I'm not a guest. I'm the family."
     Nin and I shared a stair and a single cup of filter coffee on the escalator up to the National Rail.
     "But I am a guest..."
     "But you're coming with me and I'm a member of the family, which, I think, makes it different. If you arrive with family you shouldn't be expected to bring anything."
     "I haven't done anything like this before," Nin admitted.
     "I've never known anyone that's died," I confessed.
     "Maybe I should give you a cake?"
     "Don't mind. I'm not really hungry."
     I picked up her suitcase. She kept hold of the handle. I passed her a look of annoyance.
     "You can let go. I'm not going to steal it. I'm going to carry it for you."
     "Oh--," She reluctantly released it, "Right. Thank you."
     "Is there something about me that makes even the most polite gesture seem underhanded?"
     "You'll have to forgive me but I've been living alone in a foreign country for the past week and you look different in daylight. I'm running purely on instinct."
     "Your instinct has you getting on a train to Manchester with someone you've known for twelve hours. I hope for your sake that you're right--different how?"
     "You're more pale than I initially thought and you didn't wash your hair. You look like you haven't seen 'day' in quite some time--as for instincts--what could you do? Kill me?"
     She smirked.
     "Worse yet, I could force you to live," I ignored her assessment of me if only because I feared it to be true and that made me self conscious, "Are you finished with this?" I held up the empty cup. She waved it away. I threw it into the bin.
     We paused on the platform.
     "Wait," Nin thought aloud, "Do funerals have guests? Aren't they mourners?"