Page 7 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume
“Bernard?” He gives a puzzled smile until he sees the wrapping which hasBernard Matthews Turkeys EXTRA LARGEprinted across it. “Do we really need an extra large? We’ll be eating leftovers until February.Ifit doesn’t get cremated first.”
My shoulders jiggle as I laugh silently. “Well we do have Sam coming over, and Harrison. Plus Chan and Aidan.”
He nods. “True.”
There isn’t a day that goes by we don’t have Chan, Sam, Harrison, or anyone else dropping by. Madam Viv pops in occasionally, and Maddie and her wife, Sonia. Chan usually has Aidan with him. It’s like living in an episode ofFriends, except most of our friends are usually cranky, badly behaved, or trailing dead people or death deities in their wake.
“Take a seat, love, and I’ll make you a cuppa. You look knackered.”
“Oh,” he lets out a little groan as he sits down. “I am. I had a decedent in today who’d managed to electrocute himself. It was a pretty straightforward post-mortem, or it should have been until he showed up and accidentally electrocuted the other two ghosts standing in the room. The electrical charge threw them both straight through the walls. They still hadn’t reappeared by the time I left. Judging by the velocity they hit the wall at, they could be halfway to Timbuktu. The guy then went on to blow every single light bulb in the room, so I had to stop his post-mortem and try and track down Simon in maintenance to fix it so I could finish up. He turned up with a ladder and a flashlight but managed to catch the edge of the trolley, catapulting the organs I’d already removed and my instruments halfway across the room.”
“Oh my god.” I pinch my lips, trying not to laugh.
“Thankfully, I’d already thoroughly documented and bagged them, but honestly, you couldn’t write this shit.”
“Oh, baby.” I chuckle and drop a kiss on his head. “Has this happened before?”
“What? Someone’s kidneys being launched across the mortuary like they’d been shot out of a Nerf gun?” He stares at me. “Surprisingly not.”
I bark out a laugh and grin as I turn to the sink to wash my hands. “No, I mean the guy with the…” I jiggle my hands as a mediocre explanation.
Tris shakes his head. “It was like that scene inReturn of the Jediwhen Emperor Palpatine tries to electrocute Luke Skywalker.” He blows out a breath and frowns. “But in answer to your question, no. I’ve never seen a spirit do something like that before. Just when I think I’m getting the hang of all this stuff, something pops up to remind me I know nothing at all.”
“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit,” I say as I make him a cup of tea. “It’s only been just over a year since you started being able to see dead people. You’re doing amazingly well. Most people would have gone crazy by now.”
“I feel like I’m heading in that direction.” He gives a tired laugh. “It’s just so exhausting. I wish there was an off button. At this point, I’d even take a pause button.”
“You’re just tired, love. You’ve been working a ridiculous amount of hours, and you just need a break. Then you’ll probably feel better about everything.”
“Speaking of which!” He gives me a bright smile and stands as I set his cuppa on the table beside him. “I have some really good news.” He loops his arms around my neck.
“Yeah?” I slide my hands around his waist and pull him in tighter.
“I must have been looking suitably pathetic for the last few days because Judy and Mr Baxter called in cover from another mortuary and they’ve given me the next two weeks off.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He grins, nuzzling his nose against mine. “Just you and me for a whole two weeks.”
I can’t help leaning in and kissing him softly.
He lets out a contented sigh and tilts his head so our mouths slide together perfectly. His hands play with the hair at the nape of my neck as his lips part and his tongue meets mine.I’ve missed this, I think as we kiss. It’s slow and languorous, like we have all the time in the world, and we do. Well, two weeks at least, but I’ll take it. I can’t think of anything better than being curled up together watching trashy TV and bemoaning the post-Christmas overeating malaise.
Finally, we pull back. I peck a last light kiss to his swollen lips and smile.
“Drink your tea, love,” I murmur. “I’ll just finish up with Bernard and then we can order in for dinner if you want.”
His eyes drop to the turkey and he chuckles. Settling himself in the chair, he lifts his mug and takes a sip, humming in appreciation.
“You know I always feel bad about making some poor delivery driver from Uber Eats come out this late in the freezing cold to deliver dinner,” he says as he slides his phone from his pocket and starts scrolling through the takeaway app.
“It is literally his job,” I remind Tris.
“Still, it’s getting really cold out there.”
“This?” I snort. “This is nothing. You should try a winter up North.”
“No, thank you.” He huffs a little laugh. “Chinese? Pizza?”