I was a young bobby.  Just finished my first year at Bognor. I was 24.  My sergeant told me to go down to the front because there was an old couple sitting there and had been there for hours and there was some concern about them.  I headed down there and spotted them straightaway.  He was sitting on the seawall and next to him was his wife in her wheelchair.  I introduced myself and immediately realised she was dead.  It was obvious even though this was the first dead person I had encountered.  He was chatting away to her about the view, the weather, the seagulls and that.  I sat down beside him and asked if everything was alright.   He looked worried. “You are not going to take her away are you?”  “No”, I said “we’ll do what’s right together when the time comes. Shall I get you a cup of tea?”  I rang my sarge. I said this could take a while.  He said you’ve got all the time you need and alerted an ambulance crew.  I brought back the tea and cake. 3 cups.  3 slices of cake. We sat there and talked.  He kept telling her to drink up her tea.  Turned out she had died early in the morning.  He had got up, dressed her, put her in the wheelchair and for 8 hours he walked around Bognor to all the places they always went together ending up at the seafront.  I sat and talked to him for 4 hours. The ambulance crew were around the corner waiting. I knew them. They were our local Bognor crew.  It just wouldn’t work like that now.  Finally, he got a bit cross with her about not eating her cake and tea.  “Look the nice young constable bought this for you and you are wasting it, making a bit of a scene.”  Eventually, we agreed it was time to put her in the ambulance and they had arranged for her body to go to the Chapel of Rest.  He was terrified about her “being put in a drawer”.  So that is what happened. We got to the hospital and he said goodbye to her in the chapel and then I drove him home.  Job done. I left the police when it stopped being possible to do a proper job anymore. Cuts.  Not enough time.  Now people would be ringing in, there would be a concern about health and safety, people taking pictures all sorts.  It was a good job in them days.  I never forgot it.  Poor old boy.