Cock & Bull - Laura Barnard Page 0,31

everyone knows everything around here.

‘That’s right.’

He frowns. ‘I heard you were trying to get the pub going again?’

‘We are.’ I nod. ‘Except... well, until word spreads, I kind of need a day job.’

He smiles sympathetically. ‘Well, you’re in luck, missy.’

Does anyone like being called missy? Does he think I’m five years old.

‘We need someone new. You know what they say, this business never has a lull.’

I suppose he’s right. People are always going to die. What a depressing thought.

‘So... what would that be doing?’ I ask carefully, dreading his answer. Hopefully it’s just answering the phones.

‘A bit of everything really. We’re a family run business so we don’t like people claiming it’s not their jobs. A bit of funeral planning, now and again driving the hearse and the occasional prepping of the passed.’

‘You mean... the dead people? I’ll...’ I swallow, praying my stomach doesn’t empty its contents out onto their carpet. ‘See the dead people?’

He looks at me with his lips pursed. ‘Of course you’ll see dead people. This job isn’t for the faint hearted. Are you going to be able to handle it?’ He raises one eyebrow in challenge.

Do I have much choice? What’s my alternative? Starve to death at the pub and be found eaten by that skunk Suki.

‘Of course.’ I nod, trying to look determined and unafraid.

He nods with a smile. ‘Then the jobs yours. You start tomorrow.’

I grimace. ‘Great.’

Only I could end up working in a funeral directors.

‘Although, there is something we’d like to check first.’

I start playing with my injured thumb. The nail is beginning to grow and I’ve found myself fiddling with it when I’m anxious. ‘Oh?’

He nods. ‘Come with me.’

I dubiously follow him into the back where a dead person is laid out in a coffin. Shit. It’s a man in his seventies or eighties. His skin is slightly yellow and he seems shiny.

‘Doing this job, you need to learn to be around the dead.’

I nod, trying not to inhale the musty smell they’ve tried to hide with fresh flowers.

‘I’d like to leave you alone with Lochlan here, to see how you cope.’

I point at the dead person. ‘Lochlan?’ He nods. ‘Seriously?’

He nods again, his eyebrows pinched together. ‘It might sound extreme, but it quickly weeds out the people who aren’t serious about the job.

Shit, it might weed me out before I’ve even started.

‘Can’t you just believe me?’ I smile as sweetly as I can.

He smiles reassuringly. ‘You can do it. I’ll be back soon.’ He leaves, closing the door behind himself.

Shit. I’m sharing oxygen with a dead man. Okay, the main thing is not to panic. I pace the room, desperate not to look at him. Not to think of the dead person. Only, of course, that’s all I can think about. The elephant in the room. Or the dead person in the room in my case.

You know what? I’m avoiding the obvious. He’s right, if I’m gonna work with dead people, I need to learn to look at them. I walk slowly towards him, taking a deep breath with every slow step. My stomach does somersaults, my mouth dry.

I look down at him. He could be mistaken for being asleep if you didn’t know. Whatever they’ve done to him is good.

I think about what life he had. Who might miss him now that he’s gone? Did he have a family? Grandchildren? Did he take them up on his lap and read them stories? A tear runs down my cheek.

Did he smell of Werther’s Originals? My eyes fill with tears when I think of the potential life this man had. How we all end up the same, dead in a coffin, put into the ground. Before I know it, I’m all out sobbing. This poor man.

I find a box of tissues on the nearby table and take one, dabbing at my eyes and blowing my nose nosily. I take another deep breath. The main thing is that he now has a dignified end. That he’s looked after here. That his family are able to grieve him properly.

I lean back over the coffin. ‘Rest in peace, Lochlan.’

He does looks at peace. Then his arm jerks out towards me. Oh my fucking god. My heart tries to escape out of my throat. I scream. The bastard is fucking alive! Either that or possessed by the devil. I run to the door and try to open it but it’s locked. I bang my fists against it.

‘Let me out! This guy is still alive!’

The walls start