Ashes to Ashes (Bring Out Your Dead series - Part 52)

“What’s going on then, Stoney?”  D.I. Wood asked, scrolling through his ‘phone.

“It’s not easy with these” D.S. Stone attempted to adjust the ‘My Little Unicorn’ binoculars, “but, from what I can see, they’ve pulled into the crem. gates and then stopped.  Oh, hang on, the older one and that woman who met them at Southampton, they’ve got out and they’re chatting to some stern looking piece”

“That’ll be Lady Lewisham” D.I. Wood nodded, “I’ve had the dubious pleasure once or twice”

“What?  You haven’t…” D.S. Stone turned to look at his boss with raised eyebrows.

“No, not like that, you dilys!” D.I. Wood looked horrified, “I mean I’ve had occasion to speak to her from time to time” He shuddered at the thought of having carnal knowledge of their local aristocrat.

“Oh, right.  Well, anyway, they’re having quite a debate, sir, whatever it is they’re talking about”

* * * *

 

Any sense of relief that Josiah Oakshott might have felt, on finally turning into the grounds of the crematorium, was immediately dissipated by the sight of Lady Lewisham, alighting from Egbert’s limousine and striding toward them.  He and Samantha collectively sighed, and went to meet her.

“Mr. Oakshott, whilst I’m delighted to see you, at last, I do have to inform you that you will be hearing from my solicitors with regard to the level of service (or the lack thereof) apparent in this farce to date!” Lady Lewisham stated, in a matter-of-fact way.

“My dear Lady, please accept my profound apologies for the problems that we have experienced throughout this mission, through no fault of our own I would add.” Josiah said, fidgeting nervously with his top hat in hand. “Nevertheless, as you can see, we have Sir Lewisham’s remains and are now able to proceed to the interment, without any further delay

“Yes, well, not before time” Lady Lewisham sniffed, “however, there is another problem we have to address, as a matter of some urgency.  You may recall that the Rector of our estate, the Very Reverend Giles, was due to hold today’s service?  Regrettably, he has been struck down with a severe case of influenza and is unable to carry out his duties.  Do you have an alternative you could propose?”

“As a matter of fact,” Josiah glanced quickly at Samantha, who looked panic-stricken, “my colleague here is a licenced Celebrant, fully authorised to conduct funeral services at these premises.”

“Is she ordained?”  Lady Lewisham gave Samantha an appraising look.

“No, but as a licenced Celebrant, she had no need to be” Josiah explained.

“If I may, Josiah” Samantha gave him a hard look and turned to Lady Lewisham, “I would be honoured to conduct the service, my Lady, but I would quite understand if you wished to utilise someone else”

“Time is not on our side, in that regard” Lady Lewisham said, stiffly.  She looked Samantha up and down, with some disdain, “A woman, I ask you?  Where will it all end?  Still, I suppose Sir Lewisham would approve, lascivious lout that he was!  I trust there will be none of this ‘happy-clappy’ nonsense?”

“I will follow whatever order of service you have devised, my Lady”

“In that case, we may proceed.” Lady Lewisham said, curtly, “Two hymns, the 23^rd Psalm, a quick prayer if you must and then, to use the vernacular, he’s toast, if you will pardon the expression” Lady Lewisham smirked, “are we in accord?”

“Of course, my Lady” Samantha bowed, slightly.

“Then let us be about our business, Mr. Oakshott” Lady Lewisham strode back to the limousine.

“Thank you very much!” Samantha hissed at Josiah as they climbed back into the car.

“It was the only possible solution, my dear” Josiah said, miserably.

“We will discuss this, at length, later, Josiah” Samantha snapped, and stared pointedly out of the side window.

* * * *

 

In the hearse, Archibald and Chantelle were waiting for Josiah’s signal to continue down to the crematorium itself.  Archibald was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, impatient to get this part of the procedure, over with.  Chantelle was fidgeting, desperately trying to think of anything she could do to try to rouse the unconscious Frankie, comatose in the coffin behind her.

“I wish they’d get a move on!” Archibald grumbled.

“Oh, there’s no hurry, is there?  We’ve taken so long to get here, why rush now?”  Chantelle said, with a degree of panic.

“Might as well get it over with, then we can get back to normal” Archibald said, firmly.

“Well, I’m in no hurry.  Gosh, this has been a long and tiring journey” Chantelle faked a yawn, stretched her arms upward, then jerked her right arm back so that her elbow banged, with some force, into the coffin behind. “Ow!” She yelped.

“What did you go and do that for?” Archibald asked.

“Just stretching” Chantelle explained, rubbing her elbow, “the coffin must have got in the way.  I suppose you’re doing that all the time?”

“No, I’ve never done that, not in all the years I’ve been driving these ‘earses”

“Really?  I would have thought it was easily done.  I mean all I did was stretch, like this” She stretched again, “then brought my arm back” She made the same manoeuvre, hitting the coffin with even more force this time.  “Bloody hell, that hurt!” She said, involuntarily.

“I’m not surprised!” Archibald looked at her in disbelief, “don’t keep bashing the coffin, for gawd’s sake, Mr. O. will have my guts for garters if there’s any damage to it!”

“Oh, I don’t think a little dink from my tiny elbow…” Chantelle slammed her elbow into the coffin once more, for good measure, bringing tears to her eyes, “is going to do much damage to this bloody solid coffin”

“Well, I dunno, probably not” Archibald shrugged, “but you can’t go bashing the woodwork around like that.  It’s not…respectful”

“Fair enough, Archie” Chantelle nodded, “sorry!”

‘Well,’ She thought to herself, ‘if that hasn’t woken him up, I don’t know what will!  Sorry, Frankie, I gave it my best shot’

* * * *

 

 

“They’re getting back into their cars, sir.  I think we’re going to be off again any minute” D.S. Stone reported.

“Right, Stoney, we follow at a discreet distance, alright?”  D.I. Wood threw the remainder of his cigarette out of the car window, “When it comes to the funeral, the gaffer’s given strict instructions.  We’re to observe, diplomatically, but not interfere.  He wants no arrests, no heroics, no questioning, nothing!  We’re to keep schtum until the great and the good have all buggered off, then we’ve got a clear field, understood?”

“Wilco, sir”

“You’re not going all military on me, are you Sergeant?”  D.I. Wood looked at him with suspicion, “It’ll be all ’10-4’ and ‘Roger that’ next!”  He frowned and shook his head, “We just watch and wait, Sergeant, watch and wait”

“Understood, sir” D.S. Stone eased the small blue car through the crematorium gates and followed the cortege down to the low-slung building, partially hidden in the dip, below.

* * * *

 

At the entrance to the crematorium, Josiah slipped smoothly out of the limousine and hurried across to speak to Mr. Strine, who was standing, with a small contingent of Oakshott and Underwood employees, by the door.

“Is all in order, Mr. Strine?”  He asked with a worried expression.

“All fine and dandy, Mr. Oakshott” Mr. Strine touched his black bowler, respectfully, “I’ve got all the fine lords and ladies settled down nicely in there.  We’re ready for his Lordship, when you are”

“Thank you, Mr. Strine, you have been a great help” Josiah sighed with relief that at least this part of the process had gone smoothly.  He nodded to the rest of the contingent and then joined Archibald, as he, and a few of the other employees, set about removing the coffin from the hearse.

Samantha took up her position at the head of the procession.

“Is there any processual music taking us into the crematorium?”  She turned and asked Lady Lewisham.

“Chopin’s ‘March Funėbre’” Lady Lewisham said, dismissively.

“The Funeral March?”  Samantha looked astonished, “you don’t really hear that at funerals anymore”

“You do at this one” Lady Lewisham said, with an air of finality. “It rather suits my mood!”

“Shall we proceed, my Lady?” Josiah dodged back from the coffin to ask her.

“Please do” Lady Lewisham nodded, “the sooner he’s incinerated, the better”

Josiah looked startled, but scuttled back to join the pallbearers, as the sombre tones of the funeral march boomed out from the crematorium’s PA system.

Chantelle had been placed, along with Amber and Lawrence, at the very rear of the procession, with strict instructions to stand at the back of the room and try to be as inconspicuous as possible.  She crossed her fingers, nursed her bruised elbow and raised her eyes heavenwards. 

‘This is it, Frankie,’ She thought, glumly, ‘it’s now or, very definitely, never!’

Now read Part 53