This heat meant more overtime for Harry. The killing season certainly made up for the bleak wet days spent in the shed when the rose bushes were barren and the thick wet grass was too much for the mower.
There was the morning to dig the hole, set up the apparatus. Harry squinted at me through his broken glasses then scuffed into the shed seeming confident of meeting the deadline. I followed him. He was reading a large book.
Having made sure we're about to start work on the right plot he pulled a large frame down from the roof storage. He took this out to the plot and positioned it on the ground then dug around it with his long nose spade I helped remove the grass sods.
We cut down about 18 inches and struck a hard pan. Harry disappeared behind his shed to a very much older shed motioning me to follow. Inside was an old compressor and a pneumatic drill we wheeled around to the plot.
Harry wound the string around the starter, connected up the hose then pulled it into life. The beast bucked then jiggled manically.
Harry took the drill and drilled holes breaking up the hard ground. We then broke it up with a pick. Once through the hard pan we continued to use the drill to loosen the clay.
We walked from one side to the other slowly stepping down into the grave.
The sun was now breaking the hillside. It beat down on us in dirty denim. Harry walked to his Brown Holden and returned with the radio which was soon blasting out across the whole graveyard.
We worked steadily. Harry was not much over five feet tall and soon the sides were over his head. The grave needed to be seven ft as this was going to be a twin grave. In the future the husband or wife would join the permanent resident.
We finished the hole and Harry spent some time shaping the sides while I sat on the pile of yellow clay for a rest. We then cleared the clay that lay around the edge and placed a plank down each side.
We arranged a green tarpaulin which had a hole to fit over the entrance. The apparatus then sat on the planks.
Everything was done. The hearse was due up the driveway soon so we hurried to get rid of the laborers litter of shirt spades and radio.
we retired to a discrete distance and set down on a grave with our lunch. It was a brief service.
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