Nature of Ash, The Read Online Free Page A

as well. Jeannie detours round the side, past all the ambulances, and parks around a corner where we can’t be seen. We’re right outside the entrance to the morgue, and as we wait to be admitted Jeannie pats my arm.
    ‘Right, Ashley,’ she says, her eyes bleeding sympathy. ‘I’ll come in with you and do the official paperwork, but then just let me know if you’d like some time with him alone.’ She draws in a long breath as though steeling herself. Bets are on there’s something else she wants to say . ‘There’s one thing more …’ Bingo . She pauses at a set of solid double doors. ‘They’ve done their best to clean him up, but it’s still going to be a shock. No one will blame you if it’s just too hard. Do you understand?’
    I nod. There’s no way I can speak. My head is full-on shaking, my tongue so dry and thick it makes me want to choke. There’s a buzzing static in my ears and a cold band squeezing around my temples in a vice-like grip. The weird thing is my ears and hands are burning — tingling — and the world’s gone into slow motion, every move demanding conscious will to act.
    Now a nurse swings the door open and Jeannie slides her arm around my shoulders to guide me through. She’s not like a cop, more like the mother of one of my friends. Even so, my shaking grows steadily worse.
    Inside, it’s just an ordinary corridor. The nurse unlocks another door and leads us into a darkened room. She flicks on the lights, and I brace myself. Butthere’s nothing here except two shabby sofas and a table with a lamp.
    ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to view him through the glass,’ she says. She unlocks what looks like a cupboard but is, in fact, a pair of shutters. Behind them lies a solid double-glazed window.
    And there he is — well, there someone is. Laid out on a bench right up against the other side. He’s locked in a small cage-like compartment, separated by a metal grille from some kind of operating theatre beyond. Is lying inside a white vinyl body bag, zipped from ribs to feet. They’ve kept his head and chest exposed, the contour of his body visible beneath the vinyl shroud.
    I let my gaze drift from head to toe. Already I can see that where his feet should be forming a peak beneath the covering there’s nothing but flat empty space. Oh god. Oh, holy shit . Jeannie’s arm is pressing tighter as we edge closer to the glass. The nurse hands her a clipboard full of papers and steps away, then Jeannie gives me one more squeeze and lets me go.
    ‘Are you all right, Ashley? All I need from you is confirmation that this is your dad.’ I swear her voice is shaking too.
    I try to talk, but all that comes out is a croak. I have to clear my throat and try again. ‘Okay.’
    This person could be anyone, the face so swollen it’s all out of shape, the skin burnt to an ugly mottled red, cross-hatched with livid gouges where shit from the explosion’s lodged into the flesh. This can’t be him. Dad still has a full head of gingery-grey hair, and long eyelashes, while this poor sod has none. ‘I don’t think it’s—’
    ‘Look closer, Ashley.’ Jeannie’s very calm now,placing a steady hand into the small of my back. ‘Remember that the blast has burnt away his hair.’ She steps forward, until she’s standing right beside me again, and gestures to his chest, where the scalded skin is pocked and pitted to a shiny red. ‘I’m sorry that you have to view him like this, but until they do the post mortem they have to leave him in this state.’
    For a moment I think I’m going to faint. I close my eyes and gulp down a few shaky breaths. Come on, come on. Just get this over with . I try again, pressing my forehead to the glass to inspect that blistered, ravaged skin. There’s a strangely defined welt on his chest, below his throat. Shaped like a fish hook, branded there. Just like Hei Matau, the greenstone pendant Mum gave Dad that’s meant to signify prosperity. The greenstone