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

laughs at herself. She’s got a good sense of humour.
    Not been before then?
    Not as yet, no.
    She smiles. She has lovely teeth. It’s not all death and misery here.
    Sorry, I should have offered to make you a tea, I say. I can brew up in the office.
    No time. Got to go, she says. It’s all rush rush, she says.
    Need a hand? I say. I follow her out to her van.
    She checks her phone, slams the door. Flashes her smile.
    See you later, Lee.
    I lean my arm above the passenger window.
    Arrivederci then. Mind how you go.
    I watch the van pull away. I give myself a little pat on the back. Not at all bad, Lee Hart, if you do say so yourself.
    *
    I AM OUT the back, labelling, checking paperwork. Everything labelled big-time. You can’t have a gents Seiko getting muddled with a ladies Swatch, upsetting relatives, messy. The dead are labelled same as newborns, but personal effects can go walkabout unless carefully handled. There are things you wouldn’t think of, apart from the usual falsies: teeth, wigs, glass eyes; there’s implants, lithium-powered devices, including radioactives and prosthetic limbs. Some people are lethal when it comes to what’s concealed inside them. When business is slow we do catch-up jobs: coffins, plaque engraving, orders, re-stocking. Now and then there are quiet times, lulls. Feasts or famines. Last month it was quiet for a week. It’s dead around here, says Derek. We all laughed, even Reen.
    Mikey cleans and polishes the vehicles. I give him a hand. Gets us out in the fresh air and at his age a helping hand is welcome. We take frequent breaks, due to Mikey’s blood pressure warnings. We stand out in the parking bay, survey the darkening sky, the oncoming weather, the houses stretching on and on – left towards the railway line, right towards the High Street. So many houses. Dwellings, Mike calls them. We take it all in. He lights his fag. Over the years each one of these houses will give up their dead.
    I am diving down the corridor, lightning-quick, me. Never fear Lee is here.
    Sorry I’m late.
    A man comes towards me. He walks like someone in bomb disposal approaching a tunnel.
    That’s alright, Sir. Not to worry.
    Not a problem, I say. He doesn’t hear me. You use your judgement, when, how. The grieving are not the living or the dead. They are in a place of their own.
    I put my hand on his arm. Touch is the language of grief. When a loved one dies you speak it fluent,
bosh
, overnight. This way, Sir. Here we go. Shall we have a sit down? Follow me.
    Here we learn to communicate with the bereaved as we go along. Some of us are fluent already. Every one of us in this life speaks it in the end.
    Like any language there are rules. My hand mustn’t remain on his arm too long else I will have intruded. Too short and it’s offhand. Pat the arm and you create the impression this is not a priority for you. Timing. Hands are everything, what you do with them. The worst is hands in pockets, forget it – bad as blowing your nose, clearing your throat and looking at your watch all put together. Death is a high-wire act.
    By two o’clock the sky has burst. Pouring. Cats and dogs. Me and Derek are soaked. I’ve not done Horse-Drawn before. Two black gee-gees, all the trimmings. The driver, Terence, he’s rainproofed, all the gear, jammy git. Me and Derek are toppered and tailed, nothing more: drowned rats. Only the coffin is dry and toasty behind us under glass. You
twats
! someone shouts from a white van as it skims by. Me and Derek ignore it. The horses are called Tiff and Toff. One of them takes a crap and it steams in the rain. Howard dashed out this morning to cover the grave. Jacuzzis, Derek calls them when they fill up. Humour is an essential weapon in the undertaker’s arsenal. I bear this in mind.
    I text Lorelle a joke.
    2 cannibals r eating a clown. 1st cannibal turns to 2 other and says, does this taste funny 2 u?
    Haven’t heard back, as of yet.
    *
    A MAN CAN’T survive on that,