Body and Soul (Bring Out Your Dead series - Part 51)

Continued from Episode 50 - 'Look Through Any Window'

The story so far (you can read from the start at 'Episode 1 - Board Stiff!'):  Josiah and Archibald, our two Undertakers, have been on a mission to Spain to collect the mortal remains of Sir Lewisham Carnock.  Now back in the U.K. and en route to the crematorium, our characters have every reason to hope that everything is finally under control, apart from Chantelle and Frankie, of course!

 

The small procession of funeral vehicles purred along the motorway, led by Archibald, driving the hearse containing the late Sir Lewisham Carnock (supposedly) and the very much not late Chantelle Lace.

“I’ll be glad to see the back of all this” Archibald grumbled.

“All what?”  Chantelle asked.

“All this chasing around from one country to another and hauling this ruddy coffin with us” Archibald jerked a thumb toward the cargo behind them, “it’ll be nice to get back to just doing ordinary stuff”

“I thought you might have enjoyed all the excitement?”

“Excitement?  I don’t call spending two nights on a ‘bonk-ette’ very exciting!  Do you know we’ve been messing around with this Sir Lewisham lark for nearly a week now?  Me Mam and me Nan’ll be wondering where the heck I’ve got to”

“Well, it must make a change from being stuck in a routine, surely?” Chantelle suggested.

“Make a change?” Archibald spluttered, “I don’t want to make a change, I like my routine.  Not that I’ll have it much longer”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just…” Archibald sighed, deeply, “they want me to be educated” he said with distaste.

“Who do?”

“Mr. O. and his fiancée.  They’ve got it in their heads that I should do this course, so’s I can have a ‘professional qualification’” He made it sound like a terminal disease.

“Well, that’s a good thing, surely?”

“Not for me, it isn’t” Archibald said, grimly, “I was crap at everything at school and I’ll be crap at this too!”

“You don’t know that” Chantelle shook her head, “people change.  I didn’t do all that well at school but I’ve got my Masters now and I’m hoping to do my PhD.”

“Fud?” Archibald looked puzzled.

“Doctor of Philosophy is what it stands for” Chantelle explained, patiently, “it’s a very different approach to learning things when you’re an adult, particularly when it’s something you choose to do rather than something you have to do”

“Well, that’s just it!” Archibald threw his hands in the air, much to Chantelle’s chagrin, “it’s not me what’s choosing to do this, is it?  It’s them!”

“Perhaps they have your best interests at heart?” Chantelle suggested.

“Huh!” Archibald dismissed that with a grunt.

“I think it’s pretty much a given, these days, that you need a qualification whatever profession or trade you’re following”

“What, like massages and stuff?” Archibald queried, slyly.

“Well, if you’re doing it professionally, yes” Chantelle nodded, “it was always more of a hobby with me” she blushed a little.

“Well, any road, I’m not happy about it” Archibald grouched and wriggled a bit.

“So I gathered” Chantelle smirked, “you’re squirming, Archie, you haven’t got a case of those ‘widow’s mites’ have you?”

“Nah, it’s just…” Archibald squirmed a bit more, “I could do with a sl…I could do with going to the Little Boy’s Room”

“The Little Boy…oh, I see!” Chantelle giggled, “you should have gone back at the port, shouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to go then, did I?” Archibald sulked.

“There’s a Motorway Services in a few miles, you can pull off there” Chantelle pointed out.

“You’re joking!  Mr. O’d have my guts for garters!”

“Rubbish!  I’ll give him a call and put him in the picture” Chantelle said, firmly, picking up her mobile phone.

* * * *

 

Josiah, as Archibald correctly predicted, had a fit when informed that the journey was to be interrupted for a ‘comfort break’ but, as the procession from the car park illustrated, he was outvoted.

“Are you coming an’ all?” Archibald asked Chantelle as he made to get out of the hearse, with a definite sense of relief.

“No, I’m fine, Archie” Chantelle beamed, “you go on, I’ll mind the car”

Chantelle was decidedly relieved to see that the whole of the rest of the party were taking this opportunity to use the facilities.  She’d been hoping to get the chance to make an attempt to rouse Frankie before they arrived at the crematorium, and this looked like the perfect opportunity.  She had cunningly persuaded Archie to park the hearse at the very edge of the car park, conveniently close to a nearby hedge.  Now all she had to do was slip the coffin lid away, masked by the foliage.

“Frankie!” She hissed at the inert form, “Frankie, wake up!”  She shook him violently, to no effect.  Just how many of those damn pills had he taken?  “Frankie!  For god’s sake, wake up!  This isn’t a game anymore”

“It’s not him, you know” A smooth feminine voice announced, from just behind her.  Chantelle jumped a foot in the air and spun around.

* * * *

 

Josiah and Archibald were standing in the Gents, staring determinedly forward at their respective bit of wall.

“Sorry if this is mucking things up a bit” Archibald muttered, a little guiltily.

“It is somewhat inconvenient” Josiah snapped, “however, it has given me opportunity to devise a plan by which to manage the logistics of the culmination of our expedition”

Archibald thought about this for a few seconds before responding,

“Eh?”

Josiah sighed, “By which I mean, the organisation of the funeral service.  I have spoken to Egbert and have arranged for Mr. Strine, our newly designated, oldest employee...”

“Instead of Horace Dimchurch” Archibald interrupted (see The Trouble with Horace Dimchurch)

“Yes, indeed!” Josiah sighed, “Mr. Strine has a somewhat more dependable reputation and is therefore to be entrusted with managing the distinguished congregation at the crematorium itself.  Meanwhile, Egbert will transport Lady Lewisham, and the other principal mourners, to the grounds of the crematorium, just beyond the gates, there to await our arrival, so that we can precede Lady Lewisham as we arrive for the service itself”

“Egbert’s doing that?” Archibald was clearly surprised.

“He is under strict instructions to keep all spoken observations to an absolute minimum and restrict himself only to those topics necessary for the delivery of our service”

“Good luck with that!” Archibald muttered.

“I have every faith” Josiah said, without a great deal of conviction.

There was sound of water ceasing to flow, followed by a degree of fumbling and the sound of zips being, well, zipped.

“Onward and upward then, eh Mr. O.?”

“As you say, Archibald, onward and upward.  With luck, and a following wind, in a few hours we should have finally, and successfully, concluded our Iberian mission”

“Fingers crossed, eh!”  Archibald made the necessary sign

“Everything crossed, I rather think, Archibald” Josiah said, with a very worried look.

* * * *

 

“What?”  Chantelle managed, sprawled across the back of the hearse in an obviously vain attempt to hide the open coffin.

“I said, it’s not him,” Samantha explained, comfortingly, “in that coffin, I mean”

“What isn’t?” Chantelle panted, thoroughly confused.

“Sir Lewisham, that’s not him” Samantha shook her head.

“Yes, it is!” Chantelle nearly shrieked, “of course it is!”

“I mean, yes, it’s his body, but the person… by which I mean, the spirit that moved Sir Lewisham, that’s long gone” Samantha explained.

“Oh, yes, I see what you mean” Chantelle breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“Archibald mentioned to me that you had been having some problems coming to terms with carrying a body around in close proximity.  Well, that’s not quite what he said, but that’s the gist of it.  So, I thought I had better pop back and make sure you were alright”

“Ah, yes, thank you for that” Chantelle nodded, “this must seem more than a bit odd?” She gestured toward the open coffin.

“We all grieve in different ways” Samantha shook her head, sadly, “but I don’t think it is particularly healthy to keep revisiting the body in this way.  Archibald told me you insisted on him checking the coffin before it went on the ship”

“Yes, I know” Chantelle’s mind worked overtime to come up with an explanation, “you see, there had been some silly stories about zombies wandering about.   I know that I shouldn’t, but I rather let them prey on my mind.  I guess I’ve got an overactive imagination!”

“Yes, I understand, I really do” Samantha looked at her, sympathetically, “however, I wonder if travelling ‘cheek by jowl’, as it were, to the coffin containing your acquaintance, is really in your best interests?”

“I’ll be fine, I promise”

“Well, if you’re absolutely sure?”  Samantha looked doubtful.

“It’s just been a bit odd, being so close, not only to a coffin, but, as you say, to one containing someone I knew quite well” Chantelle blushed, slightly.

“Ah yes, with regard to that, I trust you will avoid any contact with Lady Lewisham at the service?  I’m sure you will appreciate just how embarrassing such an encounter might be?”

“Mum’s the word!” Chantelle made a zipping motion over her lips.

“’Mum’ was not exactly the word that was uppermost in my mind” Samantha commented, acerbically, “I hope I can trust you to replace the lid on our client?”

“Of course, I’ll get straight to it”

Samantha gave her a long, hard look and then swept off to find Josiah.  Chantelle slumped and breathed a deep sigh of relief.  She turned back to the coffin and shook the recumbent occupant, again, vigorously;

“FRANKIE!” She hissed, as loudly as she dared.

“What did you say, my dear?” Samantha had clearly not gone as far away as she had hoped.  Chantelle banged the lid back onto the coffin hastily, turned and said,

“Frankly, I’m really not sure why this has bothered me so much!”

“Grief affects us all in very different ways.  Josiah and Archibald should not have involved you as they have done, it really is not fair.  I will have a stern word with them, both” Samantha looked at her with concern.

“Oh, please don’t” Chantelle shook her head, “it’s been quite an adventure and I’ve been happy to help.  This…”  She gestured toward the coffin, “this is just me being silly!  Don’t worry, I’m over it now”

“Well, if you say so” Samantha did not look at all convinced but set off again, anyway.

Chantelle sighed again and mopped her brow.  This had been her one and only chance to rouse Frankie before the crematorium and she had failed.  Barring a miracle, and they were in short supply, it looked like he was going to meet a very untimely, and rather fiery, end.

Now read Part 52