A Trick I Learned From Dead Men by Kitty Aldridge Read Free Book Online Page A

earrings, pocket prayerbook, photograph of grandchildren. I tuck the prayerbook under her fingers. The grandchildren in the other hand. I check again. Items in the wrong coffin, items gone walkabout equals professional suicide. I add my signature to the paperwork. I pop the lid on. Bob’s your uncle, Mrs Barry. Chapel 2 it says here, viewing at four o’clock. Forty minutes start to finish. Most of that was Mrs Barry’s hair. Thirty minutes is my tops, you don’t want to rush if you can help it.
    *
    A N E NGLISHMAN’S HOME is his castle, so sayeth Derek. He lives on the Peabody Estate, an end of terrace. I go to help him manoeuvre his three-piece suite, so he can repaint his front room. I end up staying all day to help tape his windows, prime the walls, shift the rest of the furniture. We stack it in the garden.
    You and me, he says. In my estimation we make a good team.
    I don’t disagree. I am glad. He makes me a ham sandwich and we sit on the settee under the tree and let our conversation wander.
    There is an empty mud hole in the front garden, like one of his graves. It used to be a pond, he says. Somebody poisoned his fish, he says. Envy, he reckons. We stand looking at it for a long time. Now he has geckos indoors. They use a lot of electricity, he says.

7
    A grey start followed by clear spells, then comfortably warm with some sunshine
    LORELLE IS IN . I skid on the prep room tiles. Hurrying is frowned upon here. She has laid out her blooms and is double-checking the names. I only just make it.
    Phew, I say. Caught you.
    All right, Lee? she says.
    Not too bad, I say. Nice blooms, I say.
    Yeah. From abroad, she says.
    Mikey breezes past.
    Selhurst Gardens, Selhurst Gardens, he says out loud. He turns over his shoulder, shouts towards the office, Why didn’t you tell me before then?
    No answer.
    Might as well talk to the wall, he tells Lorelle.
    I take her hand. Bold or what. Number two: Confident Guy. I lead on. We find ourselves in the storage room, where it’s quiet. No electrics allowed here due to the cremated remains. No good the ashes in ashes. We only burn them once. The poly containers are stacked high against the glass partition, making the room dim. Each tub is labelled in permanent marker. Please label urn and file alphabetically , it says on the wall. Please make sure cremation certificate goes to office for filing. Thanks!
    The names climb high above Lorelle’s head. Janine Boyce, it says beside her ear. The remains are transferred to caskets when required for burial, scattering, whatever. Some hang about here a long time. Surprisingly heavy, you don’t want to drop one on your foot. I have a line of conversation prepared, but she gets in first.
    Been busy? Lorelle says.
    Mental. You?
    Same. Wedding, Saturday. Sit-down at the Manor and Spa.
    Nice.
    Very nice.
    It’s now or never, I think to myself.
    Ever heard of the Pamplona bull run? I say. They do it in Spain, July 6th. Dates back to the fourteenth century, I add. I find it interesting. I’m considering doing it myself next year, bit of a laugh, I say. I do speak a little Spanish. Hola.
    No. Don’t know that one, she says. She checks her watch. I never knew you knew Spanish, she says.
    I do indeed. Hola. Como esta? Yo soy un hombre.
    Lorelle covers a yawn with her hand. Wow, she says. That’s good.
    In the nick of time I realise this is all me me me. How about you? I say. Any plans for summer?
    Not yet, no, she says. Wait and see, I suppose.
    Might put some people off, hanging around with cremated people, but not Lorelle. A true professional she is. I tell her so.
    She shrugs. I’ve seen it, done it, been there, she says.
    To look at her you wouldn’t think it. Butter wouldn’t melt. Respect though, total.
    Ever been to Il Terrazzo? she asks.
    Rings a bell, I say. Think, think, I think.
    Italian, she says. Three stars. I know someone who went there last month.
    Got it, I say.
    I’d love to go there.
    Yeah?
    What I wouldn’t give.
    She