Down Among the Dead Men_ A Year in the Life of a Mortuary Technician - Michelle Williams [81]
‘What are we going to do?’ was my first question to Dad.
He shrugged and asked tiredly, ‘Michelle, what can we do? Gramp doesn’t want any fuss, and we have to respect that. We’ll just have to support him.’
What could I say to that? Dad also had a right to be respected.
So the rest of that weekend was a bit flat. I stayed away from Gramp, not because I am horrible but because I didn’t feel brave enough to face him. Instead, like a coward, I rang him for a chat. Dealing with bereaved families all week long was a doddle compared with this; I was suddenly finding it was different when it was your own. On the phone Gramp never mentioned the illness, but for the first time I noticed his breathing; I heard now that it was laboured and noisy; he was having a bit of a struggle with his lungs.
After the phone call, I promised myself that I would not treat him any differently apart from the fact that I would be spending more time with him now.
FORTY-THREE
Monday morning came again, but I definitely had a little grey cloud following me around. Clive picked up on this as soon as I arrived. I used to try not to bother him with my personal life, but he had this way of coaxing information out of you. Not in a nasty, intrusive way, but so that you knew he was genuinely concerned for you. To him, we were almost like a work family. My problems were his problems, and if there was any way he could sort it, he would.
Clive put the kettle on and shut his office door. He got me to sit at Graham’s old desk while he sat at his, and I am pretty sure this was his way of trying to give me a bit of confidence to talk to him; I was the same height as him and now there was the desk between us, making me feel less exposed.
I began to tell Clive about what had happened to my family over the weekend. He listened actively and nodded in the right places. I felt my chin start to wobble and was fighting back the tears with a vengeance, which luckily worked and I didn’t embarrass myself by breaking down. Clive began to ask me questions about things I hadn’t even considered. ‘Which consultant has he been under?’ ‘How long has he been given?’ ‘Is there any secondary cancer?’ – at that point I wanted to collapse. I didn’t know any of the answers to any of these questions, and even if I wanted to know, I didn’t have the faintest idea who I was going to ask. I thanked Clive for his time and reassured him that I was OK, but did ask him if I could take my break at once, which he had no problems with. I needed some fresh air.
I left the hospital grounds and ended up walking for ten minutes in the direction away from the hospital; by the time I realized this, I panicked, as it was going to take me ten minutes to walk back, going over the allocated time for my break. So my head started to run away with itself; Clive would think I was pushing my luck due to my bad news, and I would be letting the team down as Maddie was probably working her socks off in the PM room. I hurried back and apologized to Clive, who hadn’t even noticed.
‘I think I’d like you to stay clean today, Michelle.’ This was Clive’s subtle way of telling me he thought it inappropriate that I was around the dead today.
FORTY-FOUR
‘In the old days the Coroner’s officers would attend the scene and none of this would have happened.’ Clive was talking sternly and Maddie nodded in solemn agreement.
I happened to be walking into the body store, just after arriving on the afternoon of the following day, and of course I wondered what was going on. ‘What’s happened?’ I asked. I had spent the morning with my mother, just chatting and reminiscing about Gramp because she had rung the night before and was clearly down in the dumps.
‘Look at this, Michelle.’ Clive was still talking as though he was seriously peeved, and was gesturing towards the body