Meara McGreggor & The Inspector

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The inspector, a man of unremarkable appearance, bustled into the room in a way that only people who are pretending to be far busier than they are can manage. He glanced briefly at Meara and gave a bland smile before arranging himself in his chair and drawing a few sheafs of paper out of a grey folder he had been carrying under his arm. He scanned their contents for a moment or two before looking up again. "So," he began in a tone of voice that barely concealed his minimal interest in the task at hand, "I have some basic information about you here, but we'd like to get a little more detail. Don't mind my notetaking, they're just for my personal use. Are you comfortable? Good. Help yourself to some water if you like," he paused to indicate a jug of water on the edge of the desk and a stack of paper cups next to, and continued without waiting to see if Meara was interested in a drink. "Where to begin," he said, scanning his notes again briefly, "Tell me about your sister. Do you still see her?"

Meara smiled at the man as she sat down next him. "It's nice to meet you; however, no I don't talk to my sister. Do you have any family of you're own?" She tried to conceal her discomfort on the subject; although, she kept
doing multipalcation tables in her mind. "I do on the other hand keep up with many of my friends from back home."

"Why don't you talk to her?" Asked the inspector in a disinterested manner as he drew a pen out of his pocket, clicked the end down, and started jotting a few notes on the papers he had.

Shaking her head, Meara continued to smile at the man. "Honestly I have no idea were she is. My family and I don't keep in much contact. Mainly I have the friends from back home. I do miss my friends, and my grandmother. Although, the people I've met here are very kind and welcoming. I've even made friends with bartenders, florest, teachers, bikers, and so many more."

"I am not interested in your friends." said the inspector, curtly. "If I was, I would have asked about them. Now, your sister. You have no inclination to try and find out where she is? Shall I assume your relationship with her was an unhappy one?" He paused from his notetaking to stare intently at Meara as he awaited her answer.

Meara sighed at the man's tone; however, she never let her smile slip. "No, I don't know were she is, and if she wanted to be found she would contact me. My grandmother raised me to respect the wishes of other people, so I see no need to look for her." Meara looked away from the man and saw a plant was a bit dehydrated. "May I have a glass of water?"

The man seemed unconvinced by this reply. "That was not a full answer to the question." He remarked before waving his hand in the direction of the water jug, then continued, "I shall assume a traumatic and fraught relation with this sister then." And whilst he spoke, he made a note in the margin of the sheet of paper in front of him. "My notes say nothing about a grandmother. Paternal or maternal? Do you ever blame her for the state of whichever parent of yours she presumably raised?"

As Meara got up she thought about the question. Did she blame her grandmother for the hell she grew up in? "No, my grandmother isn't to blame for anything." Her grandmother could not change the fact Meara's mother was angry at the fact she never had any magical powers. In fact it tore Lillith, her grandmother, up as much as her own mother. "In all honesty my grandmother was the greatest thing in my life." She smiled purely as she watered the plant, and watched as life seeped back into it. "My grandmother taught me the greatst things in the world." 

"A reference to her training you as a witch." The inspector stated matter-of-factly, with a nod, his face remaining carefully blank. "Does your past experience of an abusive father have a negative affect on your ability to form a healthy relationship with other males - sexual or otherwise?"

Blushing at the man Meara made her way back to her seat. "I'm perfectly able to have relationships with the opposite sex. I have serveral male friends. Actually I'm suppost to met a friend at a bar later tomorrow."

"So you are perfectly free from any psychological issues relating to your childhood and your father?" The man's tone was perfectly even, revealing nothing about what he was thinking. "Have you ever had physically intimate relationships with a male?" He paused for a second, considering whether to ask a final question, or allow Meara time to answer those he had already asked first, before deciding to leave his next question for now. 

"Honesty free?" Meara muttered out loud, while thinking. "No I'm not, but I refuse to let it rule my life. I have friends and a job to do. As for a significant other, I'm not ready." Meara beamed at the man. "I believe that I'm strong enough to live happily no matter what happens. To many people depend on me."

The inspector spent a minute or two making notes on his sheet of paper and thinking. He glanced at his watch. "You play the French Horn." He said, "What's your favourite piece?"

Meara looked at him in surprise at the sudden change in topic. Shehid a bubble of laughter, shed been tying to change it, but he was only going to do it on his own terms. "Yes I do. My favorite is Mozart's Horn Concerto No.4 in C major." Meara looked at him with glee. "And I'm not that bad."

"And yet not good enough to know that that particular Horn Concerto is written in E Flat Major." The Inspector quipped in his even, emotionless tone. "How about your favourite book?" He continued, without giving a chance to reply to his previous statement. 

Meara smiled at him, she liked he knew about music. "Actually, You asked my my favorite piece and in the album Musical Masterpieces the Concerto is played in C Major." Meara tapped her finger against her face as she thought of her favorite book. "I like to read a lot so it's hard to make a choice, but it would have to be either The Child called it, memories of a geisha, or Gathering Blue."

"And yet I doubt you can provide any reasoning for preferring it in C Major." replied the Inspector. His tone remained monotonous and even, but it was clear he was either unimpressed with Meara, or doubted her ability to play. "Most musicians, when asked their favourite piece, choose the piece they like to play." He said, "And very few decent musicians tend to listen to compilation albums," he continued. The man was clearly quite snobbish when it came to music, "they prefer to hear a whole Concerto played, not just one part of it. Tell me, was this album designed to entice five year-olds to listen to classical music?" There was almost a flicker of a sneer as he finished his question. 

Meara's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I know quiet well what Im talking about thank you very much." Her temper flared wickedly. "The difference in E flat and C major is quite obvious. E flat major is the equivalent to C minor, which has a darker, sadder tone. With the peice in C major is brighter and sounds more cheerfull. I like Cheerfull, Mr." She took a deep breath. "And you have no right to degrade my choice in Music." She wasn't going to tell him that she actually hated to play it, but loved the sound. 

This time, there was no doubt the inspector was sneering. "If we're going to claim that a major key is sad because it has an equivalent minor key, surely C Major is just as sad for being "equivalent" to A Minor? Come now, anyone who knows anything about music knows what a ludicrous argument that is, and that such simple equivocations of key signatures based on what flats and sharps they contain can't even be made," He seemed quite pleased with himself, and jotted several notes on a new sheet of paper as he spoke. The inspector seemed happy to ignore her answer to his earlier book question - clearly in his eyes her taste in literature wasn't even worthy of comment. "Have you ever heard of Charles Maturin, Ben Jonson or Jacopo Comin?" he suddenly asked without looking up from the paper he was scribbling on.

Meara was infuriated now. "I've heard of them. However, tellme right now Why i shouldn't leave right now. So far you've asked me about my family and insulted me on something I would have respected you on if you'd hadn't been anything but a snobbish jerk. I have the the right to like anything I want. Here's a question fo you. Why the hell do you feel as if you have to put me down?" She had stood up as her rant started.

The inspector ignored Meara's rant, and made a few more notes. "Could you tell me anything about them?" he asked. The sneering tone of a few moments ago was gone now, his latest question was almost pleasant in tone.

Meara glared at him as she sat."My parents were normal human beings with issued, nothing more." It took all she had not to leave, but Meara knew she had a job to do, and this was her responsibility. "In all honesty my friends, grandmother, and my job are the only family I need."

The inspector blinked and looked vaguely confused for a moment, "I meant the three men I just named." He clarified. "Could you tell me anything about them?"

Meara blinked at, "Oh." She settled back down, her anger fading and thought about the question. "Charles Maturin was a clergy man, appointed by the church of Ireland, who wrote gothic nonel's a nd plays. We went over him in my Histroy of Ireland class."

"And the other two?" The man urged, as he made a note on his papers, "Ben Jonson and Jacopo Comin?"

Meara, tapping her finger against her chin, thought about the two with earnest. "Ben Jonson was a dramatic Poet and actor. He is greatly known for his satirical plays, particularly Volpone, The Alchemist, and Bartholomew Fair. I Truely enjoyed the Alchemist. As for Jacopo Comin, his other name was Tintoretto, he greatly effect the art of the baroque period. This is important to keep in mind becuae during that time period art was head of music, which resulted in music being greatly influenced bt it." Meara glemmed at the man as she continued, now adding gestures with her hands. "I once saw a copy of his Scuola Grande di San Rocco. , and i was moved beyond words."

The inspector jotted a note or two down, and then declared, "Okay, I'm done here." For the first time all meeting he looked genuinely pleased, "thank you for your time," he added, and gathering his papers, left the room.

Meara Blinked as the door closed behind the man. "Well that's new." Getting up she streched and looked at the time. "I better get going. I've got a meting with a band of werewolves about the intake of meats this year." She left with a smile on her face.



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