A temporary job as grounds maintenance at the crematorium had been the only thing I could find that came close to my skills and experience. I knew I was on borrowed time until the person whose job I was doing came back, but now I hoped my time wasn’t up yet. Without something to get me out of our poky little flat every day, I’d go bonkers.

Paula ushered me into her office and shut the door behind me. My spirits sank a little lower; shutting the door was never a good sign. She removed her navy blue suit jacket to reveal a short-sleeved white nylon shirt which crackled with static and hung it on the back of her chair.

‘Sit down, Lottie.’ She waved me to her visitor’s chair and plonked herself down behind her desk.

‘Thank you.’ I sat on the plastic chair, tucking my hands underneath my thighs to stop me waving them about nervously.

‘How long have you been with us now?’

‘Four months.’

‘And what would you say is our primary function, here at the North London Crematorium?’ She leaned forward on her desk, head cocked to one side.

‘Our primary function is funerals,’ I said, wondering if this was a trick question. ‘And making the loss of a loved one as painless as possible.’

‘Funerals,’ said Paula, glossing over my second point. ‘Specifically what type of funerals?’

‘Well, cremations. Obviously.’ I shrugged.

‘Exactly. Not burials.’ She pursed her lips. ‘Cremations for …?’

Oh God. A tremor of dread flooded through me. Suddenly I knew exactly where this was heading.

‘People?’ I muttered weakly.

Her gaze held mine as she reached for a glass of water on her desk. ‘People, Lottie. Humans.’

‘Okay, I can explain.’ I untucked my hands and pressed them on to her desk. ‘I know I shouldn’t have dug a grave for that hamster in the south corner by the hedge. Nor made a little cross from two lollipop sticks. But the little boy had travelled such a long way on his own on the bus with a shoebox containing what was left of Biscuit. It was the least I could do and it only took a few minutes. He’d written a eulogy and everything. Biscuit was his best friend. And he’d tried burying it in his garden but the dog had dug it up twice. The poor thing had already lost three of its limbs. I didn’t have the heart to send the poor boy packing.’

Paula choked on her water and closed her eyes for a second.

‘You acted out of kindness, I understand that.’ She let out a long breath. ‘But it’s against the rules, Lottie. The Health and Safety Executive would crucify us.’

‘It won’t happen again,’ I promised.

‘And what about the singing?’

‘You heard that?’ I cringed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. ‘I never was very good at Queen songs.’