The next morning passed in a blur. Sarah had been through this all before. Her absent father had left her to deal with her grandfather's death alone. Part of that had been making the funeral arrangements. It had also taken her a long time to get through visits to the bank and various government offices, before she allowed herself time to grieve.

On this occasion, things were different. This time, she opened up to assistance from her friends. On this particular day, Luke.

They didn't talk about the night before. She wasn't able to. Not right now.

Sergeant Fielding met them at the mortuary doors. Her short, slight figure stood in complete contrast to the image her voice had given on the phone.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Laker." Her tone was still as clipped as it had been on the phone, but softer in real life. "We found the legal documents pertaining to the transfer of Mrs. Harrison's business, to you, in her vehicle."

Sarah stopped biting her nails and half smiled at the police officer. "Yes. That came as a surprise to me too."

Turning to Luke, Sergeant Fielding gave him instructions. "You need to wait out here please. It won't take a minute." She then held the doors open for Sarah to go through.

It smelt the same, like the place her grandfather's body had been taken to. Bleach and something else underlying it, sweet and sickly. The room was too bright. Fluorescent strips outdid the light from the windows. A clinical, steel table loomed like an altar in the center of the space, with a white sheet covering the bulk of the body that waited for her.

She stood beside the table and listened to the click clack of the Sergeant's shoes as she joined her. With a flick of the wrists, Fielding threw back the top of the sheet.

Sarah's hands shot upward to cover her mouth. She nodded her head in recognition of the cadaver. It was definitely Elizabeth.

Fielding left the sheet down and asked if she wanted to stay for a moment alone. Sarah loosened her hands away from her face and nodded again. The police officer click clacked her way out.

The dead always looked the same in Sarah's opinion. They held a strange similarity to every other inanimate object. It wasn't as disturbing to look at this body, not as bad as seeing her grandfather. Then, she'd hardly been able to see at all for her tears. This time, she almost felt guilty for her lack of emotion. She felt sure that she owed Elizabeth some kind of goodbye at least. So, she said the first things that came to mind.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Harrison. I'm really sorry. It should have been your choice of when to go."

The fluorescent strip overhead gave a quick buzz and flickered. Was it a trick of the light or did the sheet twitch? Sarah frowned and peered closer at the covered body of the corpse. Had her imagination got the better of her or did that patch of cloth just become darker? She leaned in to get a better look at the area of sheet above Elizabeth's chest. The right side had changed colour! Shocked at the reality but unable to break away, Sarah stayed transfixed. The darkened area steadily turned from greyish white to a scarlet, brazen red. Blooming bright with fresh, new blood.

Sarah gasped and ran out of the room. She banged the doors into the wall as she fled straight into Luke's arms.

"Woah, woah! What's wrong?" He held her back, his face striken with worry. "What is it?"

Sarah shot Fielding a look of terror and yelled out in a high pitched voice.

"She's still bleeding. Her chest is still bleeding."

The Sergeant's eyebrows knotted with confusion and she quickly sped off to check.

Luke pulled Sarah near to hold her, but it wasn't what she wanted. She pushed away from his grasp and followed the police officer back in.

Fielding walked around the table, carefully scrutinising the sheet. She gently took the cover and placed it reverently back over Elizabeth's face. She gestured at the body for Sarah to look.
"There's nothing here, Miss Laker. Take a good look."

Sarah's legs began to shake. She couldn't see anything on the body. The white sheet was spotless. She shook her head and stuttered her words.
"No - no! I saw it. It was there, around her heart."

Sergeant Fielding's face turned grey. She pointed at the upper right side of the covered body.
"Just here you say?"

"Yes." Sarah was beside herself with shock. "Around her heart."

Fielding shook her head and came around the table and helped Sarah back out of the room. Sarah could tell that she was holding something back. Tired of being persuaded that nothing was real, and this was real, the blood, the hesitation on the Sergeant's face, she couldn't control herself any longer.
"What aren't you telling me damn it?"

Luke looked amazed at her outburst and came towards her, Sarah held him at bay with a raised hand.
"No, don't, Luke! I want to know the truth. Tell me, Sergeant, what do you know about Elizabeth?"

Fielding suddenly seemed embarrassed to be there. In a fraction of a second she looked ten years younger, her face softened and unsure.

"I don't know how to tell you. I can't believe it myself."

Sarah stood upright, her chin raised, her legs no longer unsteady.

"Tell me."

"I've heard of lungs being flung from the body in collisions but Mrs. Harrison was found with no heart."

Sarah noticed that Luke had lost his composure and he called out in surprise.
"What? How is that even possible?"

She had the feeling that Luke's exasperation was more likely aimed at her than at what Fielding said.

"It was a freak accident, the vehicle caught fire and the immense heat must have caused her heart to explode out of her body. We're still looking into it, there must have been some immense trauma to the chest cavity for this to happen."

Sarah's face scrunched up.
"How do you explain her face? She doesn't look like she was in a fire, and you said you'd found the papers on the back seat of the car, they must have been burnt too, right?"

Sergeant Fielding avoided direct eye contact, her fingers picked at the button in the cuff of her shirt.

Is this for real? Reaching out, Sarah gently touched Feilding's arm. Something about the officer's insecurity resonated with her, she recognised that expression of confusion and disbelief. She caught Feilding's eye and coaxed her for an answer.
"Can you explain why? What happened?"

Taking a deep breath, with her eyes misting over, Fielding launched into a stuttering, almost incoherent babble of words. Her hand grasped Sarah's wrist, her gaze unwavering.
"The fire burned in a ball, began under the engine, caught the driver's legs and seat, it stopped at her chest, a sphere, a ball of fire, have you ever heard of such a thing? Her heart was missing, her eyes open, her... her body..."

Sarah stuck her hands in her hair.
"Oh my God." Poor Elizabeth's fate sent Sarah reeling in sympathy for her own mother's fate. She must have suffered immense pain and torture from the fire. The actuality of Elizabeth's details forced her to realise how terrible her mother's death had been.

This time, when Luke reached over to comfort her she let him do so.

*****

Duncan couldn't concentrate. The figures and calculations of his accounting danced around his head. He gave up trying around 11.30am. Switching off his computer, the reason behind his lack of commitment became clear.

So, he slipped on a black jacket and grabbed his keys. Checking his watch he knew that it was coming up for Sarah's lunch hour. He had to talk to her, make it more obvious. He had to tell her how he really felt.

He took the bus into the city centre, a rare occurrence for him. He sat and watched the world as he passed it by, contemplating the streets and people milling around as they went about their lives. What if he'd left it too late? What if she couldn't get past thinking about him as nothing more than a friend? Had he been as clear as he'd thought during their conversation at the restaurant? He didn't think he could have made it any more obvious. The way she looked at him when he kissed her, it had reminded him of when they were in the back of his car, all that time ago.

But Sarah was an odd one. As far as he knew she'd never been with anyone else. Oh, sure, there had been the occasional date with some nerd from the bookshop. But he was convinced that she'd never gone further than a goodnight kiss. At least that's what she'd told him, during a drunken session of 'truth or dare'. He'd made sure on several occasions to check that Luke hadn't been trying anything on either, he spent a lot of time with her, so opportunity wouldn't have been a problem.

Luke. Now there was a problem. That guy would be the death of him. What kind of a wanker would chuck away a good mate over a girl? Okay, it was Sarah, but it wasn't as if the big fella had a chance with her. She probably only saw him as an old security blanket. They were more like sister and brother together. He knew that Sarah had the hots for him, only, right? Farmboy never got the sexy flick of her hair, or the way she raised her eyebrow and gave him those bedroom eyes. She couldn't be doing that with no intention behind it, could she? For Christ's sake, they'd already had sex! Sure, it happened some years ago, but the fact was that it did happen. What did Luke think he was going to get from her? A cuddle?

The bus arrived at Duncan's stop. He jumped off and put on his sunglasses - black, Neo from the 'Matrix' style. He crossed in front of the market stalls and strode up to the bookshop.

Strange, the sign said 'closed.' He pressed his face against the window and cupped out the reflections of the sun so he could see inside. Nobody there. Sarah must have gone for lunch a bit earlier. Perhaps that dragon of a boss hadn't shown up today, and Sarah had skipped off sooner?

Damn it! After all the prep-talk he'd just given himself, now she decides to go awol? Bloody typical. He growled at the door sign and kicked at the doorstep, today was not his day. First the work headaches, now this?

Turning away from the door, Duncan surveyed the market place, noisy and smelly as usual. Life going on as it always did. He sighed and thrust his hands in his pockets, he'd catch up with her later, nothing he could do about it now. She'd promised to come by his place after work. He'd just have to be patient. Maybe he should get the old pots and pans out and try rustling up something for them to eat? Who was he trying to kid? He'd give his Aunt a call when he got home and ask her to make noodles for the pair of them. One of the benefits of being an only child with disfunctional parents being that his other family members would do anything to make him happy.

Duncan decided to walk back home. It was a nice day and he didn't possess the right frame of mind for work. He'd only mess it up. He kept his hands in his jeans pockets and watched the pretty girls who caught his eye. They got him thinking back to a few of the sexual experiences he'd had throughout his life. Clara still stood out among the crowd.

She'd been amazing. Nobody had come close to the way they'd been together. Had it been something spiritual rather than physical too? He had no words to explain it. 'Love' he guessed was the nearest one. He smiled to himself as he walked along.

His sex with Sarah was not such a happy memory. He remembered that they had both cried at the time. He'd just buried his soul mate and he'd been overcome with a desire to feel. Feel needed, feel alive. He'd instinctively known that Sarah was in the same mental state. He'd parked the car on their way back through the woods. She hadn't said a word to him nor he to her. But once he'd turned off the engine, they'd pounced on each other, rabid with fever.

He'd got the passenger chair back far enough for them to cram themselves through into the back seat. That's when they'd started talking and kissing at the same time. Tears and revelations mingling.

Sarah was a virgin. He talked her through what he was doing and what he wanted her to do. All the while the hunger bursting his veins. It hadn't lasted more than a couple of minutes.

Afterwards he'd been consumed by guilt. He'd felt so bad that he hadn't even looked at her. The image of Clara's laughing face wouldn't get out of his mind. He remembered that distinctly. The drive home was terrible, in a tense silence. When they arrived at Sarah's farm, she'd finally spoken to him.

"Thank you, Duncan." She'd said. "I couldn't have got through this without you. Maybe we could do that again some day?"

He'd been shocked by her reaction. But also, oh so relieved. He'd not have been able to cope with losing a friend as well as his love that afternoon. He remembered that he'd replied with a really cheesy phrase and it had made Sarah giggle.

He loved her laugh. It made him smile. He wanted to make her laugh more. He wanted to be sure that she would always be happy. Wow! So, that was the truth of it? He'd actually fallen in love with her? Crazy, redheaded, big-bosomed Loopy Laker? He'd never felt this way about anyone since Clara, and yes, it was pretty daunting. He swallowed and flicked back his hair. Things had become much clearer to him. A life beside Sarah Laker was his ultimate goal. This evening he'd finally have to tell her, there'd be no more holding back. Time for the truth.

Duncan passed the electric goods shop on the street next to his. The display of television sets in the window played a movie trailer - Austin Powers in his psychedelic, velvet suit, dancing next to a gorgeous blonde. A certain tilt to her head instantly brought back a vision of Clara. Wait a minute, it wasn't just a memory. The girl's face had morphed into hers! He watched his dead girlfriend bouncing along a London street with Austin Powers.

Gripped with an icy dread, Duncan was hooked to the screens. The images quivered and lines of static spread across the TVs. When they refocused she was there. Right there, freeze framed in the screen. Her hands upon her hips, in super short hotpants, 60's style. Clara looked straight at him and curled her top lip up in a snarl.

Duncan jumped backwards, tearing off his sunglasses to get a better look. He readjusted his focus to the daylight, scanning the TVs. Clara had gone. In her place a sexy, smiling Heather Graham.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and shakily put his glasses back on. Muttering to himself.
"I must be losing it."

He carried on his way home, every twitch of a branch, or passing car increasing his paranoid state.