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A Terrible Kindness(57)

Author:Jo Browning Wroe

Ray pulls his mouth down and hunches his shoulders. ‘Car mechanics are ten-a-penny there – and badly paid. The funeral home said there’d be a job waiting for me if I qualified here and they’d cover my rent while I trained.’ He shrugs again. ‘Didn’t seem a bad idea – a year in London, with a job at the end.’

‘It’s so still.’ William mimics Ray’s response when Arthur pulled back the sheet from the cadaver.

‘Well, son,’ Arthur said, a smile playing at his lips, ‘we’d all need to worry if it wasn’t.’

Ray looked quickly at their laughing faces. ‘I’ll get used to it.’ He nodded. ‘Don’t you worry.’

‘Ha bloody ha.’ Ray’s face remains deadpan now, as he raises his hand to catch the barman’s attention, who finally starts to amble towards them. ‘You seriously think I’m the weird one, don’t you? You think, because that was the first dead body I’ve seen, I’m somehow second rate!’

‘What can I get you, gents?’ The barman rests both meaty hands on the counter. His sideburns curve around his cheeks like lamb chops.

‘Three pints of bitter and a lager shandy for the lady, please,’ says Ray, with the ease of a man who’s ordered many drinks from many bars.

William promises himself he’ll never order a shandy again in Ray’s company. ‘I don’t think you’re second rate, I just don’t get the impression that you want to be an embalmer,’ William says, as the barman moves to the pumps.

Ray laughs. Wholeheartedly. It’s the first time William’s seen his face rearrange itself and he notices what even, white teeth he has.

‘And again,’ says Ray, enjoying himself now, ‘you seriously think I’m the weird one because as a kid, I didn’t dream of stuffing dead bodies for a living?’

‘It’s not weird if it’s what your grandfather and father did.’ William knows he’s not being fair. He hadn’t spent his childhood knowing this is what he’d do. It was only after the life he’d expected had vanished that he realised how well he was suited to the quiet, hidden work of an embalmer. Nevertheless, his irritation makes him add, ‘And we don’t stuff bodies. We look after them.’

He reaches out and takes the tray from the barman, leaving his change on the counter.

? ? ?

William’s first time alone with a dead body was with Kenneth, the old man who lived down the road.

It was late September. Evelyn was in Swansea, and because she’d been gazumped on the house she was buying for them, he’d had to start school in Sutton until October half-term. He’d taken to doing his homework in the office adjoining the morgue rather than in the kitchen. Robert was looking after Kenneth, who’d died that week.

‘Can I watch?’ he said, appearing at Robert’s side.

Robert’s hands were suddenly still. ‘If you like. I’ve nearly finished, we’re onto the H.’

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s a mnemonic, Pack Her Cotton Dress Clean Today Please. We use it for the final bits and bobs, once the body’s embalmed. H stands for hair, C for cosmetise, and D for dress.’ He turned to William. ‘Sure you’re all right with this?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Right then.’ He reached for the leather cosmetics bag behind him. ‘Let’s get this hair sorted.’

‘Robert?’ Howard called from the office. ‘Can you come here a sec? I’ve had someone on the phone wants to book a double funeral for next week. There’s a few logistics I need to check with you.’

The embalming was complete, so Kenneth looked much more himself than he would have done an hour ago; pinkish, not waxy yellow, plumped lips almost smiling, and convex eyelids due to the little caps over the eyeballs. When Kenneth was ill, William had twice delivered a casserole for him. He hadn’t stayed long, but served the food on a plate and helped him up from the armchair to the table. At fourteen, William had towered above Kenneth, and as he helped him from armchair to dining chair, he noticed what a very neat dome Kenneth’s head was, and wondered why he didn’t grow his comb-over long enough to reach all the way across. From his vantage point above Kenneth, William could see his wiry eyebrows, like feelers.

Uncle Robert and Howard were deep in conversation, and without thinking, William leaned across to the cosmetics bag and took the black comb. He swept the fine hair carefully across Kenneth’s mottled scalp, then trimmed back the longest eyebrows with the tiny silver scissors.

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