The coroner ran her fingers through her tight grey curls. Ridpath thought she looked tired, extremely tired.
‘Try to do what you can remotely, but we must always remember our duty to those who have died and the bereaved. Some things have to be done in person. What do you think, Ridpath?’
Mrs Challinor was deliberately trying to involve him.
‘I agree, Coroner. It’s difficult enough losing a loved one…’ The rest of his sentence trailed away to be followed by silence.
‘Good, let’s go through the work in progress, shall we? Jenny, can you start?’
Jenny Oldfield hadn’t changed in Ridpath’s absence. She was wearing a bright orange bubble skirt with matching make-up. ‘Coroner, you have an inquest on the Sullivan case on Thursday.’
‘The man who fell from the factory roof?’
‘Yes, Coroner. I’ve reconfigured the courtroom so everyone keeps socially distant, there will be hand sanitiser available, we’ll check temperatures on entry to the court, plus people will be asked to wear masks when they are not speaking.’
‘Is that all necessary?’ It was the new coroner, Helen Moore.
‘Yes, is the short answer.’
Ridpath recognised the steel in Mrs Challinor’s voice. She was making it absolutely clear who was in charge. He had missed her.
‘If that’s clear, we’ll move on. Jenny?’
‘Last week, we had 127 reported deaths in Manchester, only two of which were classified as Covid-related. That brings the total number of deaths from the virus in Greater Manchester to 2140 by the end of July. But cases are rising again, leading to the new rules.’
The stark numbers quietened everybody.
‘I have put the reports on your desk, Mrs Challinor. There is one case I should highlight. The murder of David Carsley.’
‘The boy found near the Mersey? The one in all the newspapers?’ asked Helen.
‘The family have been asking if the police will release the body for burial.’
‘Can you follow up, Sophia?’ asked Mrs Challinor. ‘Check if the post-mortem has been completed.’
‘I’d like to take that case.’ Ridpath found himself speaking.
‘Are you sure? We agreed you would only work in the office on your first two weeks back. This case will involve liaising with a family who have lost a child in frightening circumstances.’ Mrs Challinor was looking at him over the top of her glasses, waiting for his answer.
‘I’d still like to do it, Coroner.’
‘Let’s talk about it separately.’ She looked at the other people around the table. ‘Meanwhile, shall we continue with our work in progress?’
The rest of the cases were handled in the next thirty minutes. Inquests to be held, families to be contacted, details and data to be sent to London.
‘Good, if we’re all finished, I’d like to remind everyone, despite the effects of the pandemic, the job of the Coroner’s Office does not change. We are here as an advocate for the dead to safeguard the living.’
She paused for a moment. ‘Ridpath, could you stay behind? I’d like a few words.’
Chapter 6
When everybody had gone, there was silence between the two of them before Mrs Challinor took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, brushing her curly grey hair away from her forehead and tucking it behind her ear. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine,’ he answered immediately.
‘Good. It’s great to have you back, we missed you. It’s been strange here during the pandemic, but we’ve managed as best we can.’
‘I missed being here, Coroner. How was Sophia in my absence?’
‘Brilliant. She handled her workload extremely well despite Covid and all the rest of the crap we threw at her. She’s become an indispensable member of our staff.’
‘I knew she could do it.’
Again the silence. Mrs Challinor glanced at the pictures on her desk of her daughter and seven-year-old grandson before speaking again. ‘How’s Eve bearing up?’
‘Well, I think. She’s with her grandparents at the moment, but we talk most nights on FaceTime. She starts her new school next month.’
‘That’s good.’ Another silence. ‘I spoke with Claire Trent, she told me about your counselling and was good enough to share your Wellness Action Plan and the psychiatric assessment.’
‘I’ve been cleared as fit to return to work, Mrs Challinor.’
‘I know. The psychiatrist was most complimentary about your progress.’ She picked up the folder in front of her. ‘“Thomas has come a long way since we started the EMDR treatment and is fully aware of the strategies he should implement to cope with his loss.”’
Ridpath laughed. ‘She kept calling me Thomas. I tried to stop her but…’
‘You may have fooled her, Ridpath, but I know you well. How are you really feeling?’ Mrs Challinor was as direct as ever – nothing had changed with the coroner.
Ridpath thought for a moment. Should he tell her he still saw Polly every morning? That he still talked to her? That she was there with them right now, listening to the conversation?
‘I’m fine, Margaret, honestly. I need to get back to work. I can’t stand staying at home all day with nothing but Paul bloody Martin and re-runs of Flog It! for company. Work is what I’m good at.’ He paused for a moment. ‘You can get addicted to grief, wallow in it, but there comes a time when you can’t do that any more, you have to return to the world.’
‘I know, Ridpath, that’s why I wanted you back. But I’m not going to be the cause of another breakdown.’
‘You weren’t the cause of the last one, Coroner. My wife was murdered in front of me and I could do nothing to stop it.’
Ridpath’s voice rose at the end of the sentence. He calmed himself by focusing on his breathing and taking three deep breaths, a technique given to him by his EMDR therapist, and continued speaking. ‘I know I’m not to blame. The person who did it, James Dalbey, is to blame. He arranged for Mrs Seagram to go to my house and shoot Polly. It was his final revenge.’
‘Where is Dalbey now?’
‘Still in a coma at Manchester Metropolitan Infirmary. Last I heard, the doctors were deciding whether to shut off
