Chapter Thirty-Eight #2
His shrewd eyes studied her briefly, and he waited until she nodded acceptance, before continuing, ‘Sometimes when we’em moving the dead ’uns about, then their arms and legs suddenly moves as well, and their bodies twitches and jerks as if they’m still living.
I doon’t know what causes ’urn to do this, Missus Crawford, but it’s happened more nor a few times wi’ the cholera cases.
It’s something peculiar to this bloody evil thing that causes it, I reckon, because I’ve not sin it afore.
But be sure on one thing, my wench. Be sure that they’m dead, and not still living.
No matter that they moves like that, they really am dead. ’
He frowned behind his face-cloth as he saw that she displayed no apparent reaction to his words, but only nodded listlessly, and he experienced a sense of disquiet at the strange gleam in her lucent dark eyes.
‘Right then, you take his yed, Missus, and you take the feet, Ned. I’ll lift the middle part.’
He pushed the coffin right against the side of the bed and instructed. ‘I’m agoing to pull his covering off, then as I gives the word, we all mun take hold and lift together and put him straight into the coffin. Right then … ’ He jerked the covering sheet free and tossed it aside. ‘Now lift!’
Daniel Lambert’s body was shrunken and darkened into a hideous caricature of the fine man he had been, and his weight seemed negligible to their combined strengths.
In a split second he was enveloped in the black oily pitch-sheet, and with deft rapidity Thomas Vincent wrapped around the overhanging cloth around the blue-black face and mercifully hid it from view.
As he did this the body seemed to jerk upwards, and Tildy cried out, ‘Noooo! Noooo! He’s moving!
He’s still alive! Get him out from there! Get him out!’
Before Thomas Vincent could stop her she had thrown herself down on the open coffin and ripped aside the black cloth from the dead face, and was kissing the soiled cheeks and forehead and lips and sobbing and screaming out, Tm sorry, Daniel.
I’m sorry! Forgive me, my love! I’ll take you out of this!
I’ll take you out! I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’
‘Oh fuck it! I was afraid this ’ud happen!’ the undertaker cursed. ‘Get ahold on her, Ned.’
The youth was very strong for all his runtishness, and now he grabbed Tildy’s arms from behind and dragged her away from the dead man. Thomas Vincent went to the door and shouted.
‘Missus Smith, come on in here right away, ’ull you.’
Almost immediately the frightened faces of Old Esther and Davy appeared at the door, and Vincent helped Sarft Ned to pull the struggling, sobbing, screaming Tildy out of the bedroom and into the passageway.
Old Esther told Davy, ‘Run and fetch Charles Brown.’ Frightened though the boy was, he retained enough control to obey her instantly, and by the time the three of them had wrestled the hysterically shrieking and fighting Tildy into the kitchen, Charles Brown was coming through the outer door.
His experience caused him to act instantaneously and his hands whipped backwards and forwards across Tildy’s face, hurting and shocking her from the fit of hysteria.
For a moment she stared at him with wide, tear-streaming eyes, then she suddenly slumped downwards and sank to her knees, her hands covering her face, her shoulders heaving as she vented heart-rending cries of grief and pain.
Old Esther nodded in satisfaction, and drew Davy close to her to tell him, ‘Now doon’t worry, my lamb.
This is the best thing that could have happened.
Your mam ’ull be alright now. She’ll be alright.
Her’s letting all her grieving come out now, and it’s for the best. It’s what her should ha’ done hours since. ’
Pale-faced and shaken though he was, Davy was able to understand and accept what the old woman told him. He went to Tildy and knelt by her, and put his arms around her in comfort, and she choked out, ‘Oh Davy. I’m sorry I behaved so badly. I’m sorry, honey.’
They stayed clasped in each other’s arms and slowly Tildy’s sobs quietened and her heaving shoulders stilled.
Thomas Vincent went back into the bedroom with Charles Brown and Sarft Ned, quickly re-wrapped the body and screwed down the coffin lid.
‘This bedding ‘ull all have to be burned, wun’t it?’ he asked Charles Brown, who nodded.
‘I’ll see to having that done, Master Vincent. Do you want a hand to take Daniel out to your hearse?’
The undertaker smiled mirthlessly. ‘No, theer’s no need, Master Brown. When somebody dies o’ this bloody cholera, then they doon’t weigh a good pennyworth. But I wun’t be coming to fetch him until arter dark. So he’ll needs rest here ’til then.’
He frowned with worry, ‘I hope that there’ll be somebody here to keep an eye on Missus Crawford.
Only sometimes in these cases when we’se had a bit o’ jerking about like wi’ Daniel Lambert here, then the family tries to unscrew the lid and see if the dead ’un is really dead, and arn’t bin screwed down alive. ’
‘That won’t happen here, Master Vincent. I’ll stay with them myself until it’s time for the burial,’ Charles Brown assured him, and then began to roll up the bedding and straw mattress preparatory to removing them to be burned.
By the time he had finished his task and returned to the kitchen, Tildy had recovered some degree of composure.
‘I’m sorry for the way I behaved,’ she started to apologise to him, but he held up his hands to stop her.
‘No, Tildy. Say naught about it. It was only natural.’
She busied herself in brewing a pot of tea, and the four of them seated themselves around the table and sipped the steaming liquid from the small deep-sided bowls.