For such an important place it is nothing more than a waiting room with a desk sat at the far end. Jake stood behind the desk, he took the form from the man standing opposite and disappeared down a small door to the right. A minute later, Jake appeared with the two certificates. He handed the first to the man who didn't look at it, instead he stared at the second Jake held in his hand. The man snatched it as he started to hand it over. "It's wrong?" the man asked. Jake pointed to a small sign that stood on the desk to his side. It read 'The dates are never wrong. We are sorry for your future loss.' The man fell to his knees crying. His worst fear confirmed, he would outlive his newborn son. Jake didn't look down at the crying man on the floor, he looked past him at the next person waiting to be served. Jake took her form and returned with the two certificates. The woman almost jumped over the counter to hug him. Her son would live a long life.

For the remaining eight hours of his shift the cycle continued, as it had in the seven months he had been working as a registrar. He would take their form, walk into the back and return with the certificates. The birth and death certificates. Some cried and some literally jumped with joy at the age their children would live to. Throughout it all he showed no emotion, handing over the two certificates, then looking past them to the next person waiting.

It had started to get dark by the time he got home. Dutifully his girlfriend, Sandy, met him at the front door. She was heavily pregnant, past her due date, but it was what they did every night. When they got back at the end of the day the other would be waiting to kiss them and welcome them home. Jake had done this when she worked, before starting her maternity leave. She did in when Jake started to work at the registry office.

"I love you," Jake said with his hands on her baby bump. He looked up at Sandy, "and I love you too."

She smiled, "How was your day?"

He took off his coat, "It's just work. I want to talk about you."

"I don't think I could do it." she said.

He looked at her, his smile started to fade, "It's not as bad as people think."

Jake is sitting opposite a woman in her mid-fifties, Julia. She looks tired and older than her fifty-five years.

"You know what this job entails?" she asked, staring straight at Jake.

"I do."

"In your interview, you said you had years left."

"I've still over twenty years left thank goodness."

"Twenty years is more than a lifetime for some people. Will you be at this job for the rest of your life?" she asked.

"I don't know. My girlfriend is pregnant. To be frank, I need the money." he answered.

"I will give you some advice, never look at the dates. Just take their form and then hand it over. Do not look." she said with no emotion in her voice.

"You have never looked?" he asked.

"Only once." she said, "I have a couple of years left and I am going to enjoy them. I have never been out of the country, I think it is time I went out to see the world," she started to stand, "I have saved up some money and I do not want to behind a desk when my date arrives."

He too started to stand. They shook hands, her hand was cold to the touch, "Do not get emotionally involved, that is not your job. You are not death incarnate as some make us out to be. You are not a counsellor as others want you to be. All you do is give the information the law requires them to have, nothing more. Do not start to think the job is anything other than that."

Sandy sat at the foot of the stairs attempting to put her shoes on, although she was now too big she liked to try at first before looking across to him. He was stood waiting for the look after all this was the fifth day in a row they had gone for an evening walk. Many of the books she had read suggested walking was good for inducing labour.

"This isn't going to work, she'll come when she's ready. Takes after you already." he smiled at her.

"I do not need your jokes!" she barked back at him. Some jokes are no longer funny when repeated for the umpteenth time. As she stood up, she felt it. She looked at Jake with a smile, but more than a hint of trepidation was there. He saw the look but didn't say anything, he had at least that much sense.

They rushed into the hospital, into the maternity ward. A nurse led them to a bed in a side room.

Sandy laid on the bed, breathing deeply, "Go get me a drink". He did as instructed and walked down the corridor to a water cooler. He stood behind another man who was filling four cups.

"Sorry mate, you know how it is," the man said, with a head tilt pointing to a room down the corridor. Jake nodded at him with a small smile. The man continued, "I think this may be our last child if you know what I mean."

"You have another child?" Jake asked.

"No." the short response, but he grinned as he said it, "The names Owen. I would shake your hand, but..." He nodded down towards the four cups in his hand.

"I'm Jake. Nice to meet you."

Owen started to walk away back to one of the other side rooms, he turned back to Jake, "Good luck mate, I really mean it."

"And to you," Jake said back, but Owen had already disappeared into one of the side rooms.

Baby Jayne was born happy and healthy nine long hours later. The next day Jake walked outside for the first time as a father. He stood in the warmth of the natural light for a moment after spending hours under the fluorescents inside. He started to walk out of the hospital grounds with a huge smile on his face but it soon faded. He knew where he was going when he left the hospital, but there was some part of him that didn't understand or want to understand the implication of that until he was almost there. He walked into the registrars' office. Not through the side entrance like he would on any normal work day, but through the public entrance. He had never walked in this way before.

As the queue started to move forward inch by inch he recognised Owen stood in front. "Owen?" Jake asked, tapping the man on his shoulder.

Owen turned around, "Jake. How are you? How's the partner and the baby?"

"All perfect, thank you. And yours?"

"Little Tiffany, oh, she's perfect. I'm not ashamed to say a little tear rolled down my face that first time she opened her eyes and looked at me." Owen said. The two men both smiled at their different memory of almost the same event. They continued to smile before Owen asked, "Nervous?" He tilted his head to the front of the queue.

"Not thought much about it." Jake lied.

The line reached the front, Owen walked up to be served. He wanted patiently for Gail, Jakes co-worker, to bring back the certificates. Owen took them and looked down. He wasn't the first that day, nor would he be the last, he fell to his knees. Jake knelt next to him, betraying the months of self-taught discipline, "What does it say?"

Owen looked at Jake through tears, and between his sobs spoke, "She dies the same day as me."

"I am sorry." Jake could think of nothing better to say.

Owen started to wipe the tears from his eyes and stood, "I don't accept this. It's not right."

"Owen, you know it's never wrong, everyone knows that it's never wrong." Jake looked over Owen's shoulder and could see Gail stood waiting impatiently for him, he held up his finger to her to indicate one moment, "Look when your date comes she will be alongside you. Take comfort in the fact she will not be scared when you are by her side."

Jake did not wait for Owen's response, he walked up to the desk. It was his turn now. It was baby Jaynes time. He handed the form to Gail, and when she returned, she handed him the two certificates, but Jake did not look. He placed them in his coat pocket, taking care not to look as he folded them closed.

The following week when Jake returned home, Sandy was not waiting for him at the door for their kiss. He walked down the hallway into the living room. She was sat on the sofa, the two certificates in front of her on the coffee table. He looked to the side at the cot, baby Jayne was fast asleep while her mother quietly cried feet away.

"Why did you look? I thought we agreed." Jake said as he sat next to Sandy.

"I'm sorry I needed to know. I couldn't not know how long our daughter has." The tears continued to fall down her face. Jake reached over to the certificate on the coffee table and looked at his daughters' date. Tears started to roll down his cheek. He knew the dates are never wrong.