LITMIR.BIZ

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cold weather, she said, and black ice on the road, combined with rows of hazardously placed oak trees lining the winding country lane. It was a death trap waiting to happen.

      People take that corner too fast all the time, someone said. There should be speed cameras or better lighting, someone else loudly agreed. Probably a teenage boy racer trying to impress a girl, an old lady said, to a collective murmur of agreement, as if a death sentence served him right for his stupidity. I’d bitten my lip, waiting for them to hurry up, wondering if I would be dealing with the arrangements. Now I was sitting opposite the man whose life had changed because of that night.

      ‘I just need to get some details from you, if that’s OK?’

      He nodded.

      ‘What’s Abbie’s full name?’

      ‘Abigail Sarah Anderson. But everyone calls her Abbie.’

      ‘Date of birth?’

      ‘Nineteenth of March. She’d only just turned thirty-three, last week.’

      A shiver trailed up my spine.

      We shared the same birthday.

      ‘Thanks.’ I tried to brush the surprise of this huge coincidence away, and turned back to the matter at hand. ‘Now I know this must all feel unreal, but do you have any thoughts at this stage of what sort of service you might like?’

      He fixed his blank, bloodshot eyes on mine as if I’d just asked him if he could solve an algebra equation using morse code. He shook his head.

      ‘The two options are cremation or burial. If you have an idea of which Abbie would have wanted, then we can focus on that?’

      He paused for a second before nodding his head assertively. ‘Cremation.’

      ‘OK. Now, there are a few things you’ll need to think about, such as the type of coffin you would like. In this brochure, you can see the caskets available, from wicker to cherry wood.’ I swivelled the thick guide over to him. ‘Callum, I know this is unbelievably tough. I just want you to know that whatever you want for the service – whatever Abbie would have wanted – is a possibility.’

      Callum didn’t speak, but scanned his tired eyes across the images, his hands repeatedly rubbing at the same patch of skin on his arm.

      ‘Can you tell me about Abbie?’

      For some families, all they wanted was to tell me every detail about their loved ones. For others, that question was the grenade that sent them hurtling out of the room, too tearful to carry on. I asked it so that I could hopefully pick up on the details they shared, to help them with some of the decisions they needed to make. So far, I knew that her birthday would make her an Aquarius, like me. My mum was into the whole star-sign thing, telling me that was why I was truthful and imaginative but could also be detached. I wondered if Abbie had similar attributes, or if it was a load of mumbo jumbo nonsense.

      ‘She just loved life. Hurricane Abbie, I’d call her. She was this… beautiful whirlwind.’ He swallowed and closed the brochure, stamping a thick hand over the front cover as if to block it out. ‘She travelled the world as a model. She’s gorgeous. She was, she is… Sorry, I’m getting confused with the right tense to use.’ He shook his head and sniffed loudly.

      ‘I’m here! I’m here!’ An explosion of wild, poppy-red hair burst into the room. ‘The door was unlocked so I just came in. Oh, Cal! I’m so sorry I’m late!’

      At the sight of his sister, I presumed, Callum shot to his feet and let her wrap her arms around him. A waft of sweet perfume came in with her.

      ‘I’ll give you two a minute,’ I said, getting to my feet.

      ‘No! I’ve already held things up. Sorry, I’m Mel, Callum’s sister.’ She offered her hand. It was warm and soft, and a collection of bangles clinked together as I shook it.

      ‘This is Grace Salmon,’ Callum said, using the heel of his hand to rub at his eyes.

      Mel flicked an odd look at her brother then smiled warmly at me. ‘Hello, Grace Salmon, I’m so sorry for being late. Finn just wouldn’t get his shoes on and then Noah needed a full nappy and outfit change. You should have seen the state of him. A proper poonami. Oh…’ She abruptly stopped chatting as if realising where she was. Her voice grew low and serious. ‘Oh god, sorry. Are there…’ She bobbed her head to the closed door and grimaced. ‘You know? In there…’

      Callum was swiping through his phone, apparently unaware of what his sister was trying to ask. I nodded, confirming that, in the room next door, separated by a flimsy wall, was a dead body. Or as I preferred it: Mr Sullivan.

      ‘Oh, right.’

      This was all she needed to compose herself and take a seat next to her brother, pulling her chair closer to his and unwinding a long, bobbly, mustard-yellow scarf from her neck. She was wearing a multi-coloured jumper with pompoms dangling from the cuffs of the bell sleeves. My sombre navy suit seemed even more dour in her sunshine light. She placed a hand on Callum’s and squeezed gently. His shoulders dropped a fraction at having her by his side.

      ‘There’s going to be an inquest, that’s what the police said,’ Mel said to me. ‘At first we didn’t know if we had to wait for that to happen before we planned the funeral, but then they said it could take months and that we were to go ahead.’

      I nodded. ‘Inquests can take a while, depending on the case or the backlog that the courts are dealing with. My advice is to try and put that to one side and focus on what you can control.’

      ‘It was an accident,’ she added. ‘No one was to blame. It’s not like there will be a trial or anything.’ I noticed Callum hadn’t moved his eyes from the carpet. ‘It was just a horrific accident. You don’t expect black ice at this time of year. But I guess they need to tick whatever boxes they have to tick.’

      ‘Hopefully it won’t take too long. Your most important job right now is to take care of each other and get through as best you can. Can I just ask, Callum, will you be the main point of contact or would a member of Abbie’s family like to be involved too?’

      ‘She didn’t have any siblings and her parents won’t be attending.’

      Mel must have seen the look on my face. ‘They weren’t very close, Abbie and her parents. They live in Borneo and rarely visit, too busy with their new life as prominent members of the Borneo Primates’ Committee to think about us. But they are arranging the catering for the wake, so that’s something, I guess.’

      Callum turned to his sister. ‘We need to pick a coffin.’

      ‘Oh, right, of course. Well…’ Mel struggled not to purse her lips. ‘The most expensive, knowing Abbie.’ Callum flashed her a look that silenced her immediately.

      ‘We’ll go for this one.’ He stamped a thumb on the image of the standard light oak coffin. I wondered if Mel had clocked that it wasn’t the most expensive one.

      ‘Do you think you’d like something to go in the local paper? An obituary notice?’

      ‘Does anyone even read them?’

      ‘Well, it will be online and in the actual paper. It’s a good way of letting local people know, especially if you have any requests when it comes to flowers or donations.’

      ‘Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.’ Mel spoke for her brother.

      ‘No problem. Regarding timings, I will need the text sent to the paper by Wednesday – tomorrow – for it to appear in Friday’s edition. If you’re happy with that, then in terms of dates, I think we’ll be looking at the funeral to take place about a week or so after that. Possibly the Monday or Tuesday. Do you have a preference for which day or time?’ They both looked at me blankly. ‘Some people like a morning slot and others prefer for later in the day so guests can arrive if they are travelling some distance.’

      ‘Let’s

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