2 Years, 2 Weeks, 2 Lives Page 4

her son was telling the truth, but could never prove it.

  She drifted back to the present, her precious creation sat upright in bed, his breathing calm and relaxed as he’s accepted that the dream was gone for another night.

  “It’s OK mum.” Eric smiled weakly at her, seeing her lost in her own thoughts and remorse. “The shrink said it was” he then impersonated the psychiatrist’s nasally Liverpool accent. “The hooded creatures represent a physical manifestation of the lightning attacking your father” he repeated the words he’d heard his mother being told 18 months earlier in an oak panelled office in the centre of Preston. “Eric uses these forms to help him accept the accident and its effect upon your father, like, actually, y’know.” His face now carried a smile as he stereotyped the scouse accent.

  “Stop that now.” His mum smiled back. “At least you can smile nowadays.” She sat for a second, checking all was well with her son before getting up again and heading for the door. Stopping and turning back to him before she left “And I blame Tom for making you smile so much.”

  “Tom!” Eric suddenly exclaimed. He glanced at his projected beam from his clock on the bedroom ceiling and shot out of bed “What’s up now?” His mum asked.

  “I’m meeting him in 10 minutes on the park for a kick about.”

  “Oh no you’re not young man” she replied.

  “But mom!” Eric protested, wondering if he was suddenly being asked to tidy his room, or do the washing up, or some other mundane chore before he could do what he really wanted to do.

  “If you’ll let me finish.” Grinning as she wound him up. “He’ll be here in 5 minutes for a bacon butty, seeing as you were fast asleep when he rang 10 minutes ago.”

  Eric blew his mum a kiss, smiled a cheeky grin, “Any chance of a couple of sausages on it as well mum?”

  “Cheeky teenagers.” Tutted his mother before trotting down the stairs to the kitchen where the aromas of cooked bacon and sausages were already emanating.

  Eric kicked his pj bottoms off, flicking them to the side of his room where they’d stay till that evening. He whipped a pair of undies on and slumped back on his bed to pull on his socks, and was once again lost in thought. “But it still feels so real, as if it did really happen like that.” He said to himself as he replayed the last few moments of his dream again.

  Hush Hush

  “August 1st 2012, 7:18am, the patient is one Mister Simon Argosy Peterson...”

  The automatic doors swished open, heralding the arrival of a new guest to the Morgue, 3 floors underground at the Royal Preston Hospital. Doctor Colin Smyth, Chief Medical Examiner for the Borough of Preston saw the flash of the indicator light that was on the wall across from his small office. “Recording paused at 7:19am.”

  The light was a very simple indicator, that allowed him to cover a patient up if he was about to receive a grieving family member. He also had other services visiting the Morgue, mainly the Police, who would call in whilst investigating a suspicious death. Colin had realised over the years that it was a lot easier to throw the white sheet over a body than hose down the after effects of someone seeing a mangled body after a car accident.

  The amber light flashed for 5 seconds, longer than it would take anyone to walk down the corridor from the entrance, to the main investigation room. It was positioned in the only place that could be seen by anyone in the main room, or within the small adjacent office he used to write up the reports he was currently dictating. He’d not heard or felt the vibrations from the goods lift which was situated behind his office wall, and was used to transport his customers. To anyone who realised what was in the sealed casket, it would have seemed a little demeaning to be using the goods lift, but it was a far better than sending them up and down in the normal hospital lifts, where there could be patients on their way to theatre, situated on the floor above him.

  Colin called out “Is that the transfer from Kendal?” His voice echoed around the hollow, soulless investigating room, and down the corridor towards the doors.

  There was no reply.

  Colin tilted his head, hearing the click-clack of heels on well-polished floors.. “Hello?” He asked once more, ready to stand and halt an unwanted visitor before they got too far into his realm.

  The metronomic click-clack grew louder as his guest walked along the corridor.

  Colin became a little concerned that they’d not heard him and walked around Simon’s body. He was heading towards the corridor when he stopped as an attractive, tall, red-headed lady in her late 30’s appeared from the corridor. His concerned look vapourised as the warm, slightly sensuous smile greeted him.

  “Doctor Smyth I presume.” She held out a lotion smoothed hand, her manicured nails glinting in the harsh lights above the body on the workspace.

  Colin eyed her neat two-piece trouser suit; its blue lines within the grey material followed the curved figure underneath.

  “I’m Doctor Heather Gaines.” She added with a husky educated voice.

  Colin assumed she had been a smoker, as her hands showed none of the yellowing stains, but her husky tone gave away her former addiction. “Ah, hello.” He replied, put off balance by his unexpected visitor. “How can I help?” He made sure he was directly in her line of sight of his patient, as he didn’t know who she really was, and was always unsure of anyone’s motives. “Maybe we could have a seat in my office.” He motioned towards the small room on the corner of the corridor.

  Heather smiled, slowly nodded her agreement and walked into his office, sitting in the chair at right angles to the desk. She waited for Colin to sit in his chair before continuing. “It’s actually to do with your current customer, Simon Argosy Peterson.” Heather replied, the smile fading slightly as the professional side got straight into gear.

  “Erm, yes.” Colin hesitated. “Are you his GP?”

  She tilted her head, a thought flashing across her face. “In a way, I suppose I am.”

  Colin was intrigued.

  “I’m his Company doctor, dealing with work related issues.”

  “Ah.” Colin sat back. “Then I think you’ve come here under a false pretence. He died at home, in his garage.”

  “I know.” Heather replied, the smile returned.

  Colin was confused. “I don’t see the connection.”

  “It was a work related accident that killed him.”

  “Unless you can create a lightning strike, then you may be sadly mistaken.” Colin knew everyone else believed that was what had killed Simon, but he wasn’t sure, as there were no scorch marks to be found on the body, indicating that a gigawatt of electricity had passed through him. This was a puzzle he wanted to solve, but didn’t want to tell anyone else about it until he’d got the answers. He especially didn’t want to tell someone who claimed to be his Company Doctor.

  Heather chuckled. “You ran some blood tests, and then did some more, as something was amiss.” She replied. “You’ve probably not found an entry or exit point for the lightning, and cannot conclusively agree with everyone else’s opinion that it was a tremendous jolt of electricity that stopped the heart.” Her smooth educated voice enunciated every syllable.

  Colin could listen to a voice like hers all day, it was so alluring. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that she may not be who she says she is. “I’m not at liberty to divulge the investigation as I’ve only just started it..”

  “I know, and that’s why I am here.”

  “Excuse me?” Colin was confused.

  “I’m going to assist you in the Post Postmortem.”

  Colin’s concern notched up a couple of levels. “I’d like to see some identification, and the paperwork stating that you can do so before I let you within 5 metres of the patient.”

  Heather smiled. “Of course, please excuse me.” She opened her tan leather shoulder case, removing a buff folder, placing it between them on the desk.

  Colin reached for the
file but saw that Heather had her hand on the top of the file.

  “I need you to sign the first piece of paperwork before continuing to read the file.”

  Colin was intrigued and opened the folder, removing the top piece of paper. He saw the official royal seal, read the address and the top line of the letter. “Official Secrets act, Top Secret, MI9 Clearance Eyes Only.” He looked at Heather, a confused look on his face.

  “It’s OK, this is a mere formality, you’ve been thoroughly checked and cleared,” A flirtatious smile danced across her lips, and she eyed him up and down. “All we need is this NDA signed.”

  “Sorry?” Colin blinked a couple of times. “Checked and cleared?” He sat upright, and incredulous look on his face as he tried to understand what this lady was telling him. “And by whom, for what, and…” He’d become animated, his arms jumping off his desk at every question.

  “Colin, let me firstly apologise for the anxiety I’m obviously causing you.”

  “Anxiety? Anxiety?” His voice was getting louder as it crept up an octave.

  “Colin.” Heather placed a hand on top of one of his. She gently stroked his hand, soothing the emotions within him. “It’s quite understandable, but please, I need you to calm down.” She took in a few slow, very deep breaths, her eyes locked onto his, forcing him to copy her. It took a few moments but he soon was breathing calmly. Heather watched him carefully her training made her watch for any