I Can't Explain (Bring Out Your Dead series - Part 43)

Continued from Episode 42 - 'I'm Still Waiting'

The story so far (you can read from the start at 'Episode 1 - Board Stiff!'):  Josiah and Archibald, our two Undertakers, are on a mission to Spain to collect the mortal remains of Sir Lewisham Carnock.  On the ferry home, Chantelle finds herself, and her cabin, under the scrutiny of the police, in the form of D.S. Stone, but ably manages to divert him away with the lure of a coffee and a chat.  Frankie, meanwhile, has got bored and taken himself off for a stroll, much to the consternation of Amber, when she bumped into him!  Meanwhile, in the restaurant:

Chantelle Lace had her elbow on the table, her chin cupped in her hand and a blank look on her face as she attempted to appear riveted by the conversation of her companion, Detective Sergeant Stone.  This was not an easy feat; despite the amount of practice she had accumulated in the company of Frankie Knight.

As D.S. Stone droned on, the internal monologue that she was listening to went something like: ‘He’s not a bad looking bloke, really.  Quite handsome, some would say.  And he’s clearly pretty intelligent and interested in the world, which is more than you could ever say about Frankie.  So, why does he have to be so ruddy boring?’

Whilst in the audible spectrum, D.S. Stone was saying, “…and so they weren’t really expecting to find fossils from that period in that specific rock strata.  Everyone was really surprised when they turned up.  The reason why they did is particularly interesting.  It seems that, at some point in prehistory, there must have been a violent quake, or possibly significant volcanic activity, which resulted in the strata from one age being…”

Chantelle sighed, as quietly as she could.  She seemed to spend her entire life, she reflected, having things ‘explained’ to her by men who took it for granted that, as a consequence of their gender, they were clearly more intelligent and learned than she was.  You could put up with this, for a while, if you were deriving a pleasant lifestyle, and an opportunity to fulfil your ambitions, as she had with Frankie (and had hoped might be the case with Sir Lewisham), but there really had to come a time when she didn’t have to do this anymore.

The only saving grace was that the Detective Sergeant, as boring as he may be, was no longer monitoring her cabin.  Not that this advanced matters very much, given that Frankie was still holed up in there, but it was a step in the right direction.  She smiled, slightly, at the thought and glanced, briefly, out of the restaurant window, to relieve the tedium, and was horrified to see the unmistakeable figure of Frankie Knight, complete with badly stained suit, lurching across her field of vision.

“Oh sh…!”  She began.

“…obviously couldn’t possibly be from that period, as anyone, with even the slightest knowledge, would be able to spot straight away.  I’m sorry, what did you say?”  D.S. Stone became aware that his lecture had been interrupted.

“Sorry, I erm…I seem to have lost my earring” Chantelle improvised.

“Your earring?”

“Yes, very small, gold, great sentimental value.  You couldn’t be a sweetheart and help me look for it, could you?” Chantelle pleaded, her gorgeous eyes seeming to brim with tears.

“Oh, of course, not a problem, whereabouts?”  D.S. Stone flustered.

“It must be down here on the floor somewhere” Chantelle peered into the gloom under their table.

“Right, let’s have a look then, shall we?”  D.S. Stone crouched down and began to peruse the carpet.

Chantelle grabbed her chance and sprinted for the doorway.  Rushing into the corridor, she bumped straight into Frankie coming in the other direction.

“Lace!” He grinned but was quickly denied a touching rendezvous when she grabbed him by the lapels and, with surprising strength, swung him around so that he was now behind one of the pillars, “What the…?” He began, but was silenced by her hand across his mouth.

“Not one word!”  She hissed, “You stay here, behind this pillar, you muppet, and you don’t move ‘til I say so, got it?”

Frankie nodded.

“Right!” Chantelle eased the pressure on his mouth and removed her hand. She glared at him, shook her head and darted back into the restaurant, where D.S. Stone was just emerging from under the table.

“Any sign?”  She asked, brightly.

“No, I’m sorry.  I’ve found a chip, but that’s hardly the same thing” D.S. Stone admitted, sheepishly, “What were you doing, over there?”

“I thought I saw something glisten by the doorway, but it was just a bit of silver paper” Chantelle beamed at him, “silly of me!”

“Did you have more than one earring in each ear?”

“No, just the one”

“Only, I couldn’t help but notice, you appear to have earrings in both ears” D.S. Stone observed, with a frown.

“I do?” Chantelle put her hands to her ears, inwardly kicking herself for not removing it, “Oh heavens, so I have!  I don’t know why I thought I had lost one.  Do forgive me, I hope you haven’t ruined your nice suit scrabbling about under the table?”

“No, no, of course not” D.S. Stone dusted himself down, “easy mistake to make” He added, uncertainly.

“And here’s me hogging your valuable time when I’m sure you’ve got much more important things to be getting on with” She smiled, sweetly, at him, linked arms and began to steer him out of the door.

“Oh, it’s not a problem, I wasn’t really…”  He protested, but still found himself out in the corridor.

“Now you nip off back to that nice Inspector of yours and I’ll pop to the shop and see if I can get some sweeties” She grinned, “I’m a slave to a mint imperial, aren’t you?”  She said in her best ‘Fenella Fielding’ voice.

“Mmm” D.S. Stone responded, the eyes and the voice having their usual effect on his libido, “I’m partial to a chocolate éclair, myself” He admitted.

“Libertine!” She winked and enjoyed the resultant blush, “Off you pop and I’ll see you later”

D.S. Stone started to walk away, looked back to see her giving him a cheery wave, and then marched on.

Chantelle waited until he was comfortably out of sight and earshot, before diving back behind the pillar to retrieve Frankie.

“What the hell are you doing, wandering about the place?” She hissed.

“I didn’t know where you were,” Frankie whined, “so I thought I’d come and look for you”

“Give me strength!” Chantelle put a hand over her eyes and shook her head, “I’ve managed to divert the coppers away from the cabin and instead of laying low, you come staggering around looking for me!  Have you completely lost the plot?”

“I didn’t know where you were” Frankie repeated, plaintively.

“That settles it, Frankie, we’ve got to get you out of harm’s way and sharpish” Chantelle sighed, “that door you came out of, it’s just down here.  We’ll go and park ourselves near it and when someone goes in or comes out, that’s your cue to get back to the coffin”

“Oh Lacey!” Frankie moaned.

“Never mind ‘Oh Lacey!’” Chantelle snapped, as they marched down the corridor, “We’ll both be behind bars if we don’t get you out of the way.  Right, park yourself behind this pillar and…”  She rooted around a few of the chairs, “…yes, here’s a magazine.  Pretend you’re reading that and keep your face covered.  I’ll sit here with you and grab whoever opens the door.  You’ve still got those horse tablets with you, haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“Good!  Straight back down to the coffin, right?  Then get yourself in it, put the top back on and take one of them tablets.  As soon as they’ve got you clear of Customs, I’ll get you out and you can be off, yeah?”

“I don’t know, Lacey” Frankie looked the picture of misery.  “I don’t like it”

“Why not?”

“Well, for a start off…” He began.

“Yes?”

“It’s a women’s magazine”

“Oh, stroll on!  Pretend you’re a modern man, get in touch with your feminine side!”

“I ain’t got no ‘feminine side’” Frankie growled, “I’m all man, me!”

“Oh yeah?” Chantelle raised a delicately shaped eyebrow, “what about that drag act you did down the karaoke the other week?”

“That was just a bit of a laugh” Frankie looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“I thought you took to it like a duck to water” Chantelle observed, “high heels and everything.  I know you weren’t keen to take the make-up off”

“I don’t know what you're on about” Frankie blushed slightly, “I just didn’t like getting that cream all over me, that’s all”

“If you say so” Chantelle sniffed.

“Any road, I’m not happy!”  He grumbled.

“Well, neither am I!” Chantelle snapped, “You can’t be stomping around the ship, not with it full of coppers and Undertakers, who’ll definitely recognise you.  It’s time to say goodnight, Frankie”

“Goodnight Frankie?”  Frankie looked puzzled.

“Precisely!” Chantelle grinned.

Don't miss the debut podcast featuring Josiah and Archibald in their very first story together - A Dubious Undertaking

Now read on in Episode 44