"There's another one for you today, Mol. Thirty three year old, ex-pilot. Looks like suicide." Sighed the orderly, pushing in the next body and looking up at Molly, handing over his details.

She scanned the clipboard quickly. Cause of death unknown, but he'd been found in his attic room in his pilots outfit, laid out on the bed. Looked like an overdose of sleeping tablets and a half bottle of cheap Polish vodka.

Molly sighed and smiled at the orderly as he pulled back the sheet over the corpses head. The clipboard toppled from Molly's hand with a crash that echoed around the usually silent room and her hands flew over her mouth, tears in her eyes.

"Oh, Martin…" she whispered, large tears flowing over her cheeks and clinging to her eyelashes.

The orderly frowned and looked up at her from the corpses face, hand resting on her shoulder as he pulled a stool over for her to sit on.

"You knew him?" he asked, tilting his head.

Molly nodded, sitting heavily on the stool behind her and taking Martin's lifeless hand. She pulled a tissue out and sniffed, clutching it to her mouth to hold back the sob that was threatening to be ripped out of her chest.

Martin.

Wonderful, funny, adorable Martin.

Molly had been his friend, his confidante and constant friend. She couldn't believe he was dead, lying here before her with pallid skin and pale lips. He was always so full of life, enjoying what little he had because he was a pilot and he could fly.

His passion.

His life.

Molly had heard about MJN closing down, she'd persuaded Martin to go to an interview with British Airways.

Obviously it hadn't gone well.

With a heavy heart, Molly began to unbutton his jacket gently, moving his hat off his chest. She frowned as a square of paper fell out and she picked it up with trembling fingers. It was addressed to her in Martin's lazy scrawl.

A note, oh dear god a note…

Slowly, Molly unfolded the pale pink paper and tears brimmed as she looked at the letter contained with in taking a few deep breaths before she began to read.

My dearest Molly,

I suppose if you're reading this, then my suicide was successful. I'm so sorry, my darling Molly. I wish things could have been different, but I'm a failure at everything I do. I can't even get a date with you. The most beautiful woman in this wide world and all I've seen of it. I could never tell you how dear you are to me, how much I loved you because I'm so bloody useless.

You were so kind to me, so lovely. I'm sorry, I am so very sorry. Please, don't forget me. I could never forget you.

All my deepest love,
Martin

Tears feel onto the paper and Molly folded it back up, resting her head in her hands as she choked on a sob. Sniffing, she looked back down at the peaceful face of Martin, unburdened, untroubled and relaxed. Stifling another sob, she bent down and kissed his cold lips, tears dripping onto his face.

"I love you, too." she whispered, heart shattering but sure that Martin would be smiling now, wherever he was.