“With what?” My eyes narrow.
“His job… thingy.” She smiles.
“Nice try, Dusty, but I need you to keep an eye on Mrs Abernathy for me. The last thing I need is for her to be looking over my shoulder while I’m dissecting her corpse.”
“In fairness, she probably wouldn’t even reach your shoulder. It’s like someone put her on a spin dry and shrunk her,” she remarks.
“Dusty…”
“Oh, come on. Why do I have to babysit Grandma Coco?” she whines.
“Because that’s the job,” I decide. “You chose to come back and help me, this is how you help me right now.”
“Fine,” she huffs as she rolls her eyes. “Come on, Delores, honey,” she says in a loud and exaggerated tone as she holds out her hand.
“She’s dead, Dusty, not deaf,” I say dryly.
“As far as you know,” she mumbles, and I’m surprised when Mrs Abernathy obediently crosses the kitchen and takes Dusty’s hand, smiling up at her sweetly.
The morning is grey and dreary, as April mornings often are, but everything feels crisp and clean. It’s not cold and I find myself deeply breathing in the clear air. My head is a maelstrom of thoughts ranging from my dad to Danny and back again. Pushing it all aside, I try to focus. Right now the best thing I can do is complete Mrs Abernathy’s post-mortem and get the samples off to the lab. Once we’ve confirmed my hypothesis regarding the cause of death, we can try to figure out how to get the old lady into the light.
It’s not far to the mortuary and regardless of the weather, come rain or shine, I always enjoy the walk. I can’t say I’m thrilled about the prospect of having to search for a new flat, but really, Mr Ahmed is just too unreliable and the building is over a hundred years old. With how bad the leaks have got, it’s only a matter of time before I have to deal with a black mould problem.
Aware of Dusty and Mrs Abernathy walking along hand in hand behind me, I push the door to the mortuary open, waving to my colleagues as I head back to dump my stuff in my office and pull on my lab coat. After grabbing the correct paperwork, I head into the main room to start setting up everything I need.
“Morning, Tristan,” a chirpy voice greets me as the doors swing open.
“Morning, Ted,” I nod to the orderly.
“They said you wanted the old bird from the care home.” He heads over to the bank of refrigerators and pulls up a trolley, then opens the small square door and slides out the drawer with a steely hiss.
“If you mean Mrs Abernathy, then yes,” I clarify.
“Sorry, Doc, didn’t mean no disrespect.” He swiftly transfers the petite remains to the metal table in the middle of the room. “Henrietta had her prepped last night, and they’ve bagged and tagged all her clothes, so she’s good to go.”
“Thank you.” I lean over and start laying out tools on the rolling trolley.
“Give a yell if you need anything.” He slides the trolley back against the wall and shoots me a mock salute.
“Will do.” I watch as he disappears back through the swinging doors as abruptly as he arrived.
Dusty and Mrs Abernathy are hovering at the edge of the room while I clip the papers I need to my clipboard and set them down along with a pen.
“Morning, Tristan!” A jolly Scottish voice booms through the cavernous tiled room. I look up and see a tall skinny man walk directly through the wall, giving Dusty and Mrs Abernathy a jolt of surprise.
“Morning, Dave.” I greet the pale Scot with chalky white skin and black hair. His clothes are soaked and wherever he walks a small patch of water appears below him.
“Lovely morning to… LICK MY HAIRY BALL SACK… have a stroll in the fresh air,” he remarks pleasantly.
I nod. “Isn’t it.”
“I was just thinking I might take a little walk down to Camden market today and… BIG DICK BIG DICK BIG DICK… people watch for a while.”
“Have fun.” I smile.
Dave saunters past an open-mouthed Dusty and nods in her direction. “Morning,” he greets her with a charming smile. “COCKWAFFLE!”
Dusty blinks as he disappears through the opposite wall. “Who on earth was that?” she asks incredulously.
