Still Life Page #2

Ah yes, that'll be your last one.

Please close it in three days.

Should be the right size

Sorry about this, you know...

Health rules.

I understand. I also have to wear this

stuff at work sometimes.

You're in food processing too then?

Baking?

Baking? No, not really baking.

I'm actually a...

Well, I only have to wear

this when I see people.

People?

Yes, I mean people...

who don't bake anymore.

Billy...

Billy Stoke.

Worst player in the team.

Nobody would dare kick him out.

Bloody temper.

Hear that?

Managed to fight both Management and

Union reps about the afternoon break.

He won us 5 extra minutes then

dropped off, just packed it in.

But before he does

that, what does he do?

Pisses in a vat of pork meat.

Some of the batch got through.

Pies never tasted so good.

Here, have one.

Thank you, I don't smoke.

We found this... in his home.

Do you know who she might be?

No idea.

Looks a bit like him.

- Daughter, maybe?

- Yes.

That's what I think.

Would be nice to give it to

her if she was still alive.

He must have loved her.

Funny though.

Never mentioned a family.

We were best mates really...

for a time.

Like school kids

you know, just...

Older.

He was like my older brother.

Then Billy met the "Fish &

Chips" lady in Whitby and...

- he left to be with her.

- Whitby?

Would you know her name?

Her address maybe?

No sorry, only saw her a couple of times.

Lovely girl though.

Billy always had a way with the ladies.

Something about him...

Always on the edge.

I don't know...

Do you understand women?

There will be a funeral, in

a few days time in London.

- Would you consider coming?

- To the funeral?

I don't know.

I mean it would be good to

have a drink with him but...

A funeral.

After so long.

You miss that train next

time and I won't be waiting.

- Yeah you will, you want me too much.

- Ha! Don't you count on it!

I might have a better offer.

Bollocks!

You'll never find anyone who

loves you as much as I do.

Yeah? And how much

do you love me then?

Well, I love you more than you

love me, that's for sure.

- A black tea please.

- You should try the hot chocolate.

Just got this new machine.

It's gorgeous.

Alright.

A hot chocolate please.

The train now departing from platform 3, is

the 12:
30 service for London St. Pancras.

Hello, Mr Pratchett.

Yes, it's John May.

John May, Client Services.

Yes I know, I'm sorry.

I haven't been feeling myself today.

No, still not quite right.

I don't think I will be in tomorrow.

Yes, yes. Of course.

Goodbye Mr Pratch...

Just put them on top of the others.

When he were good he were wonderful.

Very kind and loving...

When he were bad...

you got out the room.

Just half a sack in

the peeler and then

pull the switch above your head.

The one on the left.

When they're done.

In the chipper.

And don't put you hands in

if you like your fingers.

I can only tell about his life here with me.

He never spoke about his life before.

He could give you so

much just in a day,

you didn't want to be

anywhere else but with him.

Do you know what I mean?

It was me who asked him to move in.

He worked a while on the boats.

That went, thanks to those fools in Brussels.

So he started helping out in here.

He were good at it.

Put extra beer in the batter.

Customers were happy.

It were nice to have him around all day.

Strange job you've got.

All those lives...

I couldn't do it.

I like my work.

- You got the paper?

- Oh hell, I forgot. Give me a minute.

Mind the child, will you?

Bit early for another inspection.

Had the last one mid-summer.

No, no. I'm here to find

people who were friends maybe

for a man who was

here 20 years ago.

William Stoke?

Him? You won't find any

friends of his round here.

What's he done now?

Killed somebody?

No, actually he died a few weeks ago.

Well, good riddance. Wasn't

all there if you ask me.

Fried a man alive he did.

This guy were faffing with Mary.

Billy gets vexed, lands him one.

So the guy picks up a knife.

Billy grabbed his arm.

Shoves it in the fryer up to here,

and holds it there, knife and all.

Mad I tell you.

- Says here it should be paid in June.

- Hello.

- Good morning.

- Ah, don't worry about that love.

We'll sort that out.

Did you miss mummy?

Were just telling him about when Billy

fried that guy. Mad eh?

Don't forget we promised mum we'd

take her to the Bingo.

Don't listen to him

Billy were cleared, completely.

But he wasn't the same after that.

He started drinking a lot.

Became impossible, even with me.

And after a while he just upped and left.

We found this in his room.

Do you recognize her?

Did he ever speak of a family?

No, he never spoke of having a family.

He did leave something behind

but he never knew about it.

Shift ends at 4:
30, so see you then.

- Bye love!

- Bye.

Bye.

Miss Jones, there'll be a

funeral, Billy's funeral.

In a few days in London.

You must come.

Bring his daughter, and

his granddaughter.

- It's one...

- I'm sorry, it's not possible.

But... you're his family.

We're not his family. He didn't want one.

And I can't.

It's too long ago, it's

too much to explain.

- The Council could help with transport.

- I loved him.

Never loved anyone else

since, but I can't.

Please don't insist.

Do you know where he might have

moved on to when he left?

No idea.

Prison most likely.

- Good morning Mr White.

- Mr May.

What news from the land of the living?

Friar in Robin Hood's band, 4 letters.

- Tuck.

- Tuck!

You're wasted here Mr May.

Mastermind, big leather chair,

that's where you belong.

- I'd give it a go if I were you.

- Mr White.

Our last case, William Stoke.

Row 2, tray 8.

40 days rotting, I believe.

40?

Well he won't have to wait any longer.

If you can get him ready please.

Oh, they've just taken another three

for cremation this afternoon.

There's a lot more checking out than checking

in these days. I'll be out of a job soon.

Here, Mr May...

Flightless bird, 4 letters.

Dodo.

D-O-D-O.

Dodo, I never heard of it.

You're revving Mr May!

Another fruitful day, John?

Almost there?

Mr Pratchett.

Miss Pilger tells me of great progress John,

The Council's very pleased

I'm sure you'll be pleased in turn with

the references I am preparing.

Thank you.

You see it wasn't that difficult after all.

- Sorry?

- Well, you have to think about this.

Your job.

And let's face it, the dead are dead.

The funerals are for the living.

So if there's no one there,

there's no one to care, right?

I mean, for the living...

Could be better not to know.

You know, no funeral...

No sadness, no tears.

What do you think?

I can't say that I've ever thought of

it that way, Mr Pratchett.

Well anyway, the dead are dead.

They're not there, they don't care.

Alright?

Mr Pratchett!

- Yes, John?

- Mr Pratchett!

- I need a few more days.

- More days?

I'm afraid that won't be possible John.

- The Council has already...

- My last case, William Stoke.

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