Page 50 of Mortis

Leaving him with the body on the table, I headed over to Maurice, throwing my plastic apron, surgical mask, and gloves into the clinical waste bin as I went.

Teddy had previously explained why they were important, along with the need for a fresh set whenever we left and re-entered the embalming room. Apparently, they were more for our protection than the deceased’s, as the chemicals used during embalming could be harmful if handled incorrectly.

I followed Maurice into the corridor that led to the viewing rooms. We entered the one nearest to us, where a large wooden coffin rested upon a bier. Its lid had already been sealed shut. Beside it stood a wheeled coffin trolley and Gerald, a retired undertaker who occasionally helped Maurice with funeral services. I’d only met him twice, but he seemed pleasant enough.

“Here’s our muscle,” Gerald said with a grin. He patted the top of the coffin. “Pete was a nice enough bloke, but he’s a fucking heavy bastard.”

Maurice chuckled alongside his friend. The two older men steadied the trolley while I took hold of the gold-coloured handles meant for the pallbearers and gave the coffin a careful tug so it slid neatly into place.

“Cheers, son,” Maurice said, patting me on the back. “We’d have pulled something we really shouldn’t at our age if we’d tried moving him ourselves.”

“It’s not a problem,” I replied with a smile.

And it really wasn’t.

I liked helping Maurice. He had welcomed me into his business without hesitation, believing I was nothing more than an unusually tall and socially awkward young man.

He didn’t know I wasn’t human, of course.

Teddy had spun another tale about why I couldn’t be paid in the traditional sense. Something about not having a bank account or a National Insurance number, whatever that was. But Maurice hadn’t questioned it. Instead, he handed me a neat pile of banknotes at the end of each week.

Unsure what I was expected to do with human currency, I immediately gave it all to Teddy. He insisted he’d look after it for me, though I doubted I would ever ask for it back.

We had only spent some of it at the weekend, when Teddy took me shopping in a city called Oxford. It was loud and crowded. Far too overwhelming for the both of us. After less than an hour, Teddy quietly announced that we’d both had enough. Without making me feel embarrassed or out of place, he suggested we go home and order my clothes from the internet instead.

The parcels arrived the following day. Among them was a new pair of what Teddy called Crocs. Unlike my original mismatched pair, both shoes were black. They were just as comfortable, spongey, and I much preferred them to the trainers Teddy had also bought for me.

Crocs were excellent.

I pushed the coffin-topped trolley along the corridor towards the service entrance at the rear of the building. Maurice and Gerald walked ahead, chatting quietly about the upcoming service. When we reached the shutter, Maurice pushed the button mounted on the wall. The metal door rattled and clattered as it rolled up towards the ceiling, letting the late morning light spill inside.

Beyond it was the hearse. Gerald unlocked the vehicle while Maurice opened the rear door. At his nod, I guided the coffin forward with ease, sliding it smoothly into place until it locked securely inside.

“Thanks for your help, son,” Maurice said, brushing a little dust from the sleeve of his blazer.

Gerald, who had briefly disappeared back inside the building, returned carrying a floral arrangement. He carefully positioned it on top of the coffin before placing another floral spray along its side. Satisfied, he closed the rear door of the hearse and walked around to the driver’s side.

“Ready, Moz?”

“Let’s go,” Maurice replied before turning to me. “Look after the boys for me.”

“I will, Mr Adler.”

I stood and watched as they drove away before returning to the embalming room.

Teddy was exactly where I’d left him.

“You should take a break,” I said, announcing my presence.

Teddy had cursed me on more than one occasion for being too light on my hooves. Apparently, I had an unfortunate habit of appearing behind him without warning, which had resulted in several incidents involving startled yelps, one spectacular fall, and at least two collisions with cupboard doors.

He still threatened to make me wear a bell.

To avoid such humiliation, I’d started making some sort of noise whenever I entered a room Teddy occupied.

“Breaks are for wimps,” Teddy muttered.

He was leaning over the body of a middle-aged woman, perhaps in her early fifties. The cause of death was cancer. He gently squeezed one of her toes before giving a satisfied hum. Straightening up, he stretched both arms above his head. His back cracked loudly, followed by his neck as he rolled it from side to side.