Page 2 of Wicked Magik
George never did reveal himself so it looked like there was an entity in the room.
I’ve noticed a common pattern since I’ve lived here. Many say they aren’t superstitious, believe in ghosts but once they enter a funeral home that harbors bodies, that all can change in an instant.
The Cartwrights were ready to leave after that. As they rushed out the door I promised them I would make sure Elaine would look as if she were sleeping.
At least I hoped it was George that made them leave and not me.
I am not the most social person, nor approachable. It didn’t help that my hair was a naturally ghostly white, my eyes an amethyst purple and known as the girl who lived in a funeralhome with a spastic orange cat who played with bodies for a living.
Some people found that disturbing.
Overall, the meeting was a disaster. Mr. Marchant, the funeral director normally speaks with the clients. I would be there to take notes, but yesterday he was meeting with another client.
These intakes were standard and I should not have had any problem, but of course, I make them a problem.
“George.” I groaned and bent down to scratch the orange tabby. He instantly purred and pawed at the dress so he could see directly in my face. “Did you get kicked out from upstairs and they sent you down here?”
He meowed.
That was a yes.
This cat had to be older than dirt. He’s followed me around since I was in diapers, but he warmed my bed at night, a constant companion.
The echoing of footsteps from the stairs caught my attention. I stood and washed my hands ready to speak with Mr. Marchant. He was my mother’s boss and he was now mine. He was the only one that dared to come down here besides the men that would wheel the bodies in through the elevator.
Marchant liked to take the stairs.
Once my feet landed on the cold, hard concrete of the basement floor, I left Elaine in the prep room and headed toward the main area. The space was modestly furnished with two well-worn couches positioned around a sturdy coffee table, all resting on a faded rug that added a touch of warmth. Each couch had a small table beside it, topped with a simple, functional lamp casting a soft glow. It wasn't anything luxurious, just a practical spot where I could retreat to enjoy my lunch in peace during a hectic day, eliminating the need to trek upstairs.
“Mr. Marchant, anything I can help you with?” I pressed my hands down my apron that I forgot to take off. Luckily it didn’t reek of formaldehyde, I had gotten precise and stayed relatively clean.
Mr. Marchant cleared his throat and adjusted his suit tie. His salt and peppered hair was featuring more salt as of late. The wrinkles around his mouth are more defined and the bags under his eyes darker. His son, Leo, was set to take over The Divine Funeral Home, a decision I wasn’t ready for.
“Vesper, how is Mrs. Cartwrights’ body coming?” Mr. Marchant pulled out a handkerchief and put it to his nose.
The man had a problem with smells and obviously he could still smell the preparation of Elaine’s body.
I nodded. “Great. I just need to prepare her for the viewing. The embalming is complete.”
Mr. Marchant stepped around me and paced around the room. I stood still, trying not to stare. I could feel a shift in the room, an emotional one. There was something weighing on his mind, I could feel it. The way he walked, how he pulled the handkerchief away from his nose.
“I’d like to talk to you about my son taking over.”
I held back my distaste. This was a family run business. Who was I to say anything about it?
I’ve met the man once or twice, he was stuck up and too much a materialistic city man who only cared about the money he took from the living.
Higher prices, which this place was high, anyway. Now he wanted to raise it higher and offer more that wasn’t needed.
Leo was also a crook. These walls were old, the ventilation was hollow. I could hear him from my apartment, where I lived my whole life, late into the night while he talked on the phone to people in the city. He spoke about digging up graves and takingthe caskets back to be sold again. He wanted to throw the bodies back into the graves like they were nothing.
I won't be staying here if Leo takes control. The only reason why I was here now was because of my mother.
“The reason I wasn’t with you yesterday was because I was attending an intake of a very high profile family. They lost their father, and this will be a very expensive funeral. The only reason we received this was because of Leo and this will put us on the map.”
I tilted my head. “But sir, we are taking very well known celebrities already.” I chuckled nervously.
Mr. Marchant cleared his throat. “This is even more so. We cannot say no to this now. Please, do as Leo asks of you. Any work put on the back burner until this one is completed. This goes for the Cartwright family. The Blackstones are now top priority. You will begin his intake as soon as the body arrives. This will be a more complicated case for you. It will test your skill.”
