don't fear the reaper

Aunty Teresa knocked on her window to call me over as I passed by with the dogs.
"Millie Baines has died," she told me.
I struggled with unworthy emotions at the news.
Millie Baines is my case officer at the Department of Social Welfare.
She's dedicated to the proposition that the noble Heelers should be working for a living.
Millie Baines.
Stern and gaunt and completely unswayed by my 51 year old broth of a boy boyish charm.
She who must be obeyed.
Unless.
Er.
Death intervenes.
"Is it the one who works in the Department of Social Welfare?" I ventured cautiously.
It doesn't do to rejoice too soon.
"No," said the aunt. "It's the eighty year old one who lives at the top of the town."
For the second time that morning I struggled with unworthy emotions.