Down Among the Dead Men_ A Year in the Life of a Mortuary Technician - Michelle Williams [19]
We arrived at Mum and Dad’s shortly after, kitted out with our overnight bags ready for our three-night stay. ‘Your brother’s not staying over, so you two can have the big room,’ Mum informed us as we came through the back door.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Williams,’ Luke replied in joking manner as he greeted Mum with a kiss on the cheek.
Luke and my parents had got on like a house on fire right from the off. Mum was proud of the way he looked out for me, and also admired him for putting up with me. I think I have become less hectic with age, but I’m sure she would disagree. In my head, I am now reasonably sensible and not nearly so difficult – I still cringe when Mum and Dad remind me of some of things I did and said when I was a teenager – but sometimes Mum looks at me and I see in her eye the same look as she used to give me. It helps that Dad and Luke have a lot in common – and, although this is mainly sport, they also get on well as people. Not only that but, as far as Dad is concerned, if Luke makes me happy, then he is happy.
‘You’ve arrived just at the right time,’ Dad said. As I looked around to see what was waiting for our perfect timing, I caught Dad grinning at Luke. ‘The football’s just kicked off on the TV.’ With this unspoken decision made by the males of my family to sit and watch the whole ninety minutes, Mum and I decided to do a bit of internet shopping and bored the backsides off Dad and Luke as to how much cheaper things are online; I even managed to get Luke to part with his credit card, which was a victory indeed.
As the evening approached on Good Friday, the mood in the Williams household became very mellow and very, very relaxed. Mum cooked a huge pot of chilli served with home-made bread and, as Dad said, ‘Real butter, not that spreading rubbish.’
Saturday morning consisted of a hugely long lie-in and the usual Scottish fry-up after twelve o’clock, then more football for the men, and the town centre for Mum and me so that we could do some real shopping (again supported by Luke’s credit card). You may think this is an unnecessary thing for me to do – spend my well-paid boyfriend’s salary – but, for all its glamour, confidentiality, excitement and strangeness, an APT is pretty poorly paid. I have to cover the expenses of living – Luke and I both have our own homes – so my low salary leaves little for luxuries.
Saturday evening was fairly quiet as well, and I could not help calling Maddie to see how she was doing with the dogs, and, of course, they were all fine.
‘I don’t know why you fuss so much about them,’ Luke told me. But he knew deep down, as much as I did, that every now and then they could become a little excitable and start to chase each other around the house, up and down the stairs, through the kitchen, out the garden, back in the house, finishing by throwing themselves against the front door, with a quick rest ready for the next lap.
Not long after this, the Indian meal that we had ordered arrived and we all sat down and ate to the point of bursting before collapsing on the sofa and watching TV for the remainder of the night.
Sunday arrived and the inevitable fight began over the bathroom. We all needed to be ready to go out the door at eleven thirty that morning, and no one wanted to be last one in the shower and therefore the last one that everyone was telling to get a move on. Anyway, with a bit of planning and bickering, we all managed to be ready to go out on time. We met Michael and Sarah in town and, as usual, Mum and Dad wanted to start the day off at the Social Club. Gramp would probably be in there with his friends and this was always good for some giggles. But the downside of the Social Club was that Sarah was going to be the youngest in there; after her in age terms would come my brother, then me and Luke, and then the age gap would jump twenty-five years to my parents; following that, the age