Free Down Among the Dead Men by Michelle Williams Page A

‘Michelle, put the body away and go home! If we sat waiting for every family that might want
to come and visit a relative, we would have to have camp beds installed.’ I felt about an inch tall, my do-gooding had done no good at all for my staff relations. ‘You should always try
to get a definite time and speak to the relatives direct. This is what happens when the ward arrange things for the morticians, our time gets wasted. I want you out of that mortuary within half an
hour, Michelle. That’s an order.’
    I finished my phone call and put Mr Jenner away in the body store. Luke said he would be outside at quarter past one to collect me. As we pulled up outside my house, I could hear Harvey and
Oscar barking as they recognized Luke’s car. Just as I placed the key in the front door, my mobile rang. The family had arrived. So back to the hospital for the viewing that was supposed to
have been hours ago. I met the family and they could not apologize enough.
    So, after the formalities, Mr Jenner was met by his family at long last. I must have been able to hide my frustration, as I don’t think they noticed it. I explained to them, in a manner
that I hoped was acceptable, that we really needed direct contact with them as we are not manned 24/7, and they apologized again. I showed them into the viewing room and left them to it, pointing
out how to contact me if they needed me. There were four of them and they were there for each other, so my presence, I felt, would only get in the way.
    I had told them how long I had waited for them, and thought this would mean they would take into consideration my time. How dare I be so selfish? Three hours later they were still with me. Five
o’clock came and I had spent all day Saturday in the mortuary.
    I have to admit I was annoyed. Not physically annoyed, but inside annoyed. That helpless feeling you have when you know you should not be angry because you have to consider how other people are
feeling or accept them for what they are, and that it is not your place to say anything. But annoyed because you have not been considered in the whole picture, you are there and that is that.
Apologies begin to mean nothing at that point and frustration takes over.
    I finally left the mortuary at seven that evening. I never knew how much I enjoyed my weekends until they had been taken away from me.
    Once again, Luke collected me from the hospital and I got home and collapsed on the sofa. My mobile, I wanted to throw in the bin. Being on call meant that when I relaxed a bit at home, I had to
limit how much I drank. OK, I don’t drive, but I still have to be presentable and, if the evening needed it, attend for a forensic post-mortem should someone be so unlucky as to be murdered
or fall foul of an ugly death.
    The phone remained silent for the rest of the evening, but that did not diminish my anxiety.
     
    FIFTEEN
    As I entered the mortuary through the double red doors, I heard a voice say in an astounded manner, ‘Bloody hell.’ Being a nosy person, I could not resist going at
once to see what had provoked such a reaction, but in the back of my mind I was thinking, ‘What now?’ after the weekend I had just had. As I entered the body store, Clive and Graham
were standing on either side of a trolley, looking at each other. Without a word more being spoken, I looked down and saw the usual white body bag, partially opened, and without even realizing it
spoke the same words.
    What lay in front of us was a headless body; fully clothed, but headless. Curiosity got the better of me and I just had to pull back the top of the body bag to see what other injuries this poor
individual had sustained. Resting between his knees lay his motorbike helmet, so it was a road traffic accident, which gave me a little clue as to what had occurred to him.
    ‘Where’s his head?’ I asked, because it wasn’t with the rest of him.
    What happened next, though, was enough to turn the hardest