The Song Has Gone, But The Memory Lingers On!

Josiah Oakshott, sole proprietor of Oakshott and Underwood (Funeral Directors) picked his way carefully around the wooden offcuts and assorted tools that currently littered the workshop.  He would definitely have to have another word, at the next Staff Meeting, about the importance of ‘good housekeeping’.  Apart from the health and safety implications, the whole mess went against everything he felt that Oakshott and Underwood should stand for. 

He was in the process of tidying some of the mess away, when he suddenly noticed Archibald Thurble, sitting in one corner of the workshop, engrossed in a newspaper.  This sight, coming on top of the state of the workshop, caused Josiah to lose his temper.

“Archibald!”  He snapped, causing the object of his ire to jump a foot in the air, sending an arc of tea from his mug soaring across the workshop.

“Oh, hello Mr. O.” Archibald responded, meekly, on regaining his seat, “I didn’t see you there”

“Apparently not, Archibald” Josiah seethed, “You may have noticed, by reason of the absence of your workmates, that tea break finished some ten minutes ago!  Yet, here I find you, reading your newspaper!”

“Ah no, Mr. O., that’s where you’re wrong” Archibald explained, “I’m not reading…”

“And yet it looked remarkably as if you were, Archibald” Josiah observed.

“No, you see, I’m not reading, I’m re-searching” He pronounced the last term as two very separate words.

“My, my, how academic!”  Josiah responded, sarcastically, “It will be your PhD next”

Archibald chewed this term over for a while, before saying “My Fud?”

“No, not your fud, I meant…Oh, never mind what I meant!  Why are you reading your paper during work hours?”

“Like I said, I’m not reading, I’m re-searching.”

“As you wish, then I must enquire, why are you conducting ‘research’?”

“Oh well, me Mam..”

Josiah winced, but Archibald pressed on,

“…she says I should.  She reckons I’ve got Junior Management written all over me!”  He said, proudly.

“Your mother clearly has more penetrating eyesight than I possess, Archibald” Josiah commented, aware that this news almost certainly meant another awkward conversation with his cousin, Ophelia, in the not too distant future.  “What, in particular, have you been ‘researching’ then?”

“Ah, well, I’m looking into the new rules for funerals now they’re ‘easing the lockdown’’, like it says here” He pointed to the article he was reading, “they reckon you can have up to 30 people at religious gatherings, like weddings.  Will that mean funerals too?”

“I am awaiting definitive guidance from our trade body, but I would anticipate that would be the case”

“That’ll make things better, then”

“Well, I would hope so, Archibald.  The past few weeks and months have been very trying for both the bereaved and our staff.”  Josiah shook his head, mournfully.  “You, yourself, have experienced abuse from distraught relatives as they have struggled to come to terms with the restrictions on the number of mourners.”

Archibald nodded, deep in thought and remembering his narrow escape with Mr. Blunt (see ‘From a distance…’)

“Don’t suppose we’ll be back to overflow rooms at the Crem just yet?”  He remarked.

“I think not, Archibald.  It could well be a long time before we see the need for those facilities, if we ever do again!”

“Mind you, you could have some fun and games with them, any road” Archibald observed, folding up his newspaper, carefully.

“I beg your pardon, Archibald?”

“Well, you know, what with people in the overflow room getting the wrong end of the stick”

“Ah, I see what you mean” Josiah nodded.

“Like that time when the sti…” Archibald noticed Josiah’s frown and made a quick change to his term, “…the deceased had asked for “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me” and the people in the Crem played the live version?”

“Yes, I do recall that incident, Archibald” Josiah gave an involuntary shudder.

“Halfway through the song, he says ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Elton John!’” Archibald gave a passable imitation of George Michael, “and everyone in the overflow room thought they were missing out and came rushing into the main hall”

“Most unfortunate” Josiah agreed.

“When they just found the vicar walking in, there was nearly a riot!”  Archibald chuckled.

“I failed to see the humour, either then or now, Archibald” Josiah snapped.

“They’re not all that good at sorting out the right music, down our Crem, are they?” Archibald carried on, unruffled.

“To be fair, it’s not really their forte" Josiah explained, “and it is a relatively new phenomenon that the deceased, or the bereaved family, may choose favourite musical tracks”

“Yeah, but…” Archibald considered for a moment, “like there was Mr. Arbuthnot.  His widow wanted ‘Every Breath You Take’ by The Police, didn’t she?”

“Yes, and I expressly counselled against that particular choice.  I felt it was most inappropriate”

“Yeah, I know, but she didn’t get that though, did she?”

“Regrettably not, Archibald” Josiah responded, gloomily.

“Instead, they played…”

“The Laughing Policeman by Charles Penrose” Josiah nodded, deep in reflection, “and the curtains closed on the coffin with the sound of hysterical laughter resounding around the room.  Yes, I do recall, Archibald.  In fact, I still wake up in a cold sweat on certain nights when that particular occasion has forced itself into my dreams”

“Mind you, Mrs. Arbuthnot said it was the best laugh she’d had since he died”

“Yes, I never knew quite how to take that particular remark” Josiah mused.

“Then there was that time…”

“Must we, Archibald?” Josiah asked, wearily.

“Well, I was just going to say, there was that time when it happened the other way about”

“In what respect?”

“You know, when everyone tried to get into the overflow room, that time when they mucked up the video feed from the main hall and instead of seeing the ceremony, they were getting some TV channel from abroad?”

“Ah yes, I do recall, now you mention it” Josiah blushed, faintly.

“Loads of people in the main hall started pushing in.  It got pretty dodgy at one point”

“I believe there was some concern that people might be injured in the crush” Josiah nodded.

“Dutch, wasn’t it?” Archibald enquired.

“What was?”

“The TV channel they were picking up”

“I really couldn’t say.  I don’t think I was made aware of the details” Josiah attempted to bring the debate to a conclusion, but Archibald was like a dog with a bone when he was retelling a story.

“Egbert said it was porn!”  Archibald grinned.

“Did he?  I would not have any knowledge…”

“I don’t reckon that could be right, though” Archibald slid off his seat and put his folded newspaper in his pocket.

“Really?  Why would that be?”

“Well, how many people are going to be that interested in chess?”  Archibald shook his head, disbelievingly.

“I’m sure you have a point, Archibald.” Josiah agreed, with some relief, “can we now look forward to your early resumption of your duties?”

“You what?”

“Will you please get back to work!” Josiah almost screamed.

“Oh, right-ho Mr. O.”

Josiah watched his employee depart from the workshop and wondered, not for the first time, if he should consider himself blessed or cursed.  On the whole, he decided, the jury was still out on that one.

You can catch up on all of the stories involving Josiah and Archibald in the new collection:

'A Dubious Undertaking and other stories'

Just 99p or FREE if you are in Kindle Unlimited :-) (plus, keep it under your hat, but it's FREE for one day only on Sunday, 28th June, 2020)