It's In His Genes!
It's in his Genes! 1462 Words
Woke up this morning feeling fine. Then I remembered. This day my life
could change forever. I was frightened by the thought of it. What
would it be like? This new life. I felt myself flush hot with fear
and excitement in equal measure. Was I up to the challenge? But
everyone I spoke to about my plans seemed to think I was. If ever
there was a person who could make it work, then it was me, they said.
Well, I don't know about that, but I appreciated their confidence in
Opportunities like this just don't happen every day to people like me. I hadn't
gone to the right school. I didn't mix with the right kind of
people, and my interests were different to most other peoples. When
I first read the leaflet I thought it must be a mistake...it had to
be! But then after I made enquiries, it seemed genuine, so I
applied. Next thing the letter arrived, so it seems there is no
mistake. I couldn't believe it as I was an East End kind of girl;
the sort that Chas and Dave mentioned in their songs. My father was
a big fan of those two and I would often hear him singing 'Let Muvver
Sort it Out If He Comes Round Here.' Well, I would be very grateful
if 'Muvver could come round here and sort it out, but that was
extremely unlikely. She'd been dead these past ten years. So what's
I'll tell you what's not to do. For a start, it will depend on a number
of things before I agree to anything, and I'm certainly not signing
any documents until l know a bit more about it. Well, it seems only
sensible. I also intended to take legal advice but when I told my
Father he said,
'Grace, you can't afford legal advice? Lawyers and Solicitors charge
significant amounts for anything legal.'
'Oh well, if they only charge for things that are legal then I will be
alright because I suspect this might not be.'
'No, you've got hold of the wrong end of the stick,' said Father looking
ever so slightly pleased with himself.
If he had knowledge of anything that my brother and I knew nothing
about, then a smug look of superiority creased his face into a
'Solicitors and Lawyers charge enormous amounts of money working for someone
such as yourself, so listen to your Father and be warned. Father
But Father didn't know best. He'd never made a good decision in his
life. That's how come Mother shuffled off this mortal coil. She
said she felt ill, and he said,
'Let's wait until morning and see how you feel then.'
Sensible? No! Not when it's a heart attack! But then, he had to tell my
brother and myself that, once again, he had made the wrong decision.
Then when he saw my horrified look, he said 'Don't look like that,
Grace, anyone can make a mistake. Any more tea in that pot?'
So, now perhaps, you can see why I didn't want to take advice from
Father. He just wasn't equipped to deal with life or, in Mother's
case, death! No, I knew it would be down to me to find a way through
the legal jargon or risk doing the wrong thing. One thing Father had
taught me was not to take anything for granted and always act on
one's instinct. These were things he never did. He took it for
granted mother would be alive in the morning, and although his
instinct was that she was seriously ill he never acted on it.
He was a lovable man, none the more for that, and neither my brother or
myself blamed him for Mother's death. After all, it's true, anyone
can make a mistake. He just made more than most. When Mother was
alive each time he made the wrong decision she would give him a bit
of a telling off, but then forget all about it. Well, she might have
given him a bit more than a telling off for this, had she lived, but
then she would be anxious to start hoovering the living room. That
was always her first job. Once dressed, out came the vacuum cleaner
and the windows were flung wide even if it was nine degrees below.
If we argued she would say, she needed to change the air.
When I was still at school, my friends used to say they had to put their
coats on to come into our house. Some of them would ask if they
could sit in the fridge to get warm? So, my Brother and I had a
rather unusual upbringing, although, not according to Mother and
Father. They thought we were very conservative in our habits and
behaviour. What a joke!
Father was tee-total, and Mother was more often falling-down drunk but
despite being such disparate characters they did get on extremely
well. They put it down to their agreeable natures. I put it down to
the drink and Dad being ever so slightly off his trolley. The only
completely sane member of our family is me as my brother also has an
odd habit. I think it's in his genes. No, not the Levi's he wears
to go to the pub, but the genes he inherited from Mother, which gave
him an affection for the drink but, like Father, he was tee-total.
So, why did he torture himself by going to the pub every night? I
think it was because, he, like most people in my dysfunctional
family, was more than a bit odd.
Anyway, ignoring Father's advice I had made an appointment at the solicitors,
Damn, Blast & Sodit, Commissioners for Oaths. What a cool job,
to get paid for swearing. I wonder how much the Commissioner for
Oaths gets for saying 'F**k, F**k, F**k' I bet it's not Fuck all!
Sorry, but I had to give the full word for the sake of authenticity.
Well, that aside my appointment was for ten o'clock, and I was ten
minutes early so I sat looking at the man sitting opposite. He was
so tight-lipped he looked as if a good swear would do him good. 'Are
you here to swear,' I said politely. He unzipped his mouth to
'Certainly not I have no reason to swear. In my profession, my word
is my bond.'
'Oh, and why is that?' I said.
'Because I am Arch Bishop Glendower, and I am to be the next Arch Bishop of
'Oh, does that mean you will have to live in Blenheim Palace?
'Well, I don't envy you living there. It always looks damp to me.'
Then I was called in so I never found out if the poor man's prospective
mode of abode was, as I suspected, damp!
'Just sign here,' Sodit, the solicitor, said, pushing a pile of papers
'No bloody fear,' I said.
'There's no need to swear,' he said.
'I'm glad to hear it,' I said. 'If you think I'm going to pay your
extortionate prices for what I can do for free at home.'
'No, you misunderstand.'
'No. You misunderstand, You can f**k off if you think I'll pay your sort
'Then we are no further forward,' he said.
'No, and good job too, you robbing bastard.'
With that, I picked up my blue and red spangly costume with glittery bow
tie, my red lurex top hat and my long, white gloves and trounced my
way out of his office. Then, I went straight into the office of his
two senior partners Damn and Blast.
Ah! Ha! I bet you think you know what my new occupation is? Well, you're
wrong if you think I am going to be a ringmaster in a circus. Okay,
I suppose I must tell you. If all the paperwork is finalised today,
then my life will change forever because I am going to make my
fortune by being a new kind of Funeral Director. Instead of dull
black clothes, a sombre face and a sedate walk I am going to add a
bit of razzamatazz to funerals. Yes, I will lead the funeral
cortege of any family who hires me wearing a very revealing, blue
spangly costume, high heels, a bow tie and a red lurex top hat. Then
I will high kick my way to the Crem twirling my baton. So, if you
like the sound of my new business venture then take a tip from me and
invest your life savings into 'Amazing Grace' The Fun-loving Funeral
Director. You could make a killing!