I Want My Mummy!

“You claim to be, I’m given to understand, an Undertaker?” The shrill, female voice rang out from the telephone speaker and made its way through the door of the office to the waiting ear of Archibald Thurble, poised to knock on said door.

“That is my chosen profession, yes madam” Josiah Oakshott replied, somewhat tersely.

“Well, undertake THIS then!” The woman at the other end of the ‘phone snapped, and rang off.

Archibald took a deep breath, anticipating the mood his employer might be in, and knocked.

“Come!” A muffled voice commanded.

Archibald edged into the office, bearing a cup of tea and a small plate of biscuits.

“Your afternoon tea, Mr. O.” He explained.

Josiah had his head in his hands and sighed deeply.

“Thank you, Archibald.  Please put the things on my desk” The muffled entreaty came from within his cupped hands.

Archibald did as he was asked and then hovered, shifting from one foot to the other.  Josiah became aware that his employee was still in situ and reappeared, reluctantly, from his sanctuary.

“Was there something, Archibald?”  He asked, wearily.

“No, no, not really” More fidgeting, augmented by some jacket pulling, “just wondered if you were alright, style of thing”

“Thank you for asking, Archibald.  I am fine”

“Oh, only I heard…” Archibald began.

“I take it you heard some of my conversation with that client?”

“Well, yeah, to be honest” Archibald nodded, furiously, “it were a bit hard not to, seeing as how you could hear her right down the corridor”

“I do apologise, Archibald.” Josiah sighed, “I had the conversation on speakerphone so that I could more easily access the relevant documentation.”

“Whoever it was, she didn’t sound right chuffed” Archibald observed.

“I fear you are correct in your assumption” Josiah nodded, miserably, “the person on the other end of the telephone was Miss (and she was most insistent on being called ‘Miss’) C.P. Memphis”

“Oh, is it her that that wears that funny make up?”

“That would be one way of describing Miss Memphis, yes Archibald” Josiah adopted a pained expression, “you have probably heard of the concept of nominative determinism?”  He looked at his employee, hopefully.

“Erm…” Archibald gave the impression of being lost in thought, “no” he responded, eventually.

“Well, it relates to the idea that certain people are guided into their chosen careers, or life choices, by virtue of the name that they have been given, therefore, someone called Baker, for example…”

“Would be knocking out loaves for a living?” Archibald suggested.

“Indeed!” Josiah smiled, “or someone called Cooper might well…”

“Make them houses for hens?” Archibald interrupted, pleased with his quick thinking.

“Not quite, no, I had the craft of barrel-making in mind” Josiah explained, “then again, someone called Thatcher would…”

“Become a politician!” Archibald grinned.

“Ah, no” Josiah shook his head, “I can see the logic of your train of thought but I actually had in mind someone who built and repaired thatched rooves.  Nevertheless, you grasp the concept?”

“Oh yeah” Archibald said, enthusiastically, “but I don’t quite see what it’s got to do with Miss Howsyourfather?”

“Miss Memphis!” Josiah corrected. “Well, it really begins with her late parents.  Having the surname Memphis meant…”

“They were big fans of Elvis!” Archibald interjected, bouncing up and down with enthusiasm.

“No, again I can see your logical trail but I fear I must disappoint you.  In this case, they took the term ‘Memphis’ to relate to the city in ancient Egypt,” Josiah leafed through a few of the papers on his desk, “as it was at the time of the pharaohs, and that, in turn, inclined Mr. and Mrs. Memphis to a passion for Egyptology”

Archibald looked at him, blankly.

“They had an abiding interest in all things to do with Ancient Egypt” Josiah explained, patiently.

“Oh, right, pyramids and stuff?” Archibald suggested.

“Yes, indeed.” Josiah nodded, “Thus, when they were granted the gift of a daughter, they named her Cleo Patricia” Josiah looked at his employee, expectantly.

“Did they?” Archibald responded, feeling as if he was expected to say something.

“You see the intention, I’m sure, Archibald?” Josiah said, hopefully.

“Not if I’m being honest, Mr. O.” Archibald admitted, with a slight blush.

“Well, you see, it was the closest they could get to ‘Cleopatra’” Josiah explained, “she, as I’m sure you know, was Queen of the Ptolemaic Kingdom of Egypt from 51 to 30 BC”

“Oh yeah, her, right” Archibald tried (and failed) to look knowledgeable.  “Doesn’t that mean she finished before she started?” Archibald frowned.

“No, Archibald” Josiah sighed, “the periods before the birth of Christ are denoted in terms of descending years.”  Josiah smiled, “You are now, I am sure, picturing Elizabeth Taylor in her cinematic role as the eponymous queen”

“Erm, not to be honest, no” Archibald shook his head and frowned, “I was thinking of that woman what rolled out of that carpet.  You know, she was with that bloke who used to go “Hyar, hyar, hyar” a lot”

“I rather fear you may be thinking of Amanda Barrie’s less than historically accurate portrayal in the comedic film, ‘Carry on Cleo’,”  Josiah commented, despairingly, “a film in which she starred along with Sid James, as a somewhat unlikely Mark Anthony”

“Oh yeah, that’s it!” Archibald grinned, “it’s got that bit where Julius Caesar says “Infamy, infamy, they’ve all got it in for me” ennit?”

“Yes, that is its major contribution to English Literature” Josiah said, sniffily.

“So, how does all this have owt to do with Miss Memphis then?”

“I was coming to that, Archibald” Josiah sighed, “as a consequence of her name, and of her parents’ obsessional interest in all things Ancient Egyptian, Miss Memphis has convinced herself that she is a latter-day reincarnation of the queen, which explains her rather idiosyncratic approach to her make up, as you noted, Archibald”

“You mean, she reckons she’s this Cleopatra woman?”

“That would seem to be the nub and the gist of it, yes” Josiah nodded. “It therefore follows that her funeral arrangements are somewhat…singular, shall we say?”

“What, you mean she wants a pyramid?” Archibald chuckled.

“She does, indeed” Josiah agreed, miserably, “as good fortune and common sense have fortuitously dictated, the Planning Authorities have rejected her application to build a modest structure on her back lawn.  Moreover, the Cemetery Office have similarly banned her from erecting a less modest structure on their land.  Thus frustrated in her plans, she has turned her attention to me, instead”

“What, she wants you to build her a pyramid?”

“No, she seems to have given up on that project” Josiah shuffled a few papers on his desk, despondently, “instead, she wants me to make her a mummy!”

“WHAT?  She’s knocking on a bit for that lark, isn’t she?” Archibald looked startled, “and, any road, what would Ms. Knight have to say about it, eh?”

Josiah looked at his employee with a puzzled expression, before the light dawned.

“Ah no, Archibald, I fear you misunderstand” He shook his head, emphatically, “I did not mean to infer that Miss Memphis desired me to impregnate her” He shuddered, involuntarily, at the thought, “I meant that she wishes to be mummified in the manner of the pharaohs of Ancient Egypt”

“Oh, you mean all them bandages and stuff?” Archibald began to walk around with a stiff-legged gait and his arms outstretched before him, “like in the films, eh?”

“Yes, something of that nature”

“Cor, are you gonna do it then?” Archibald asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“No, Archibald, I am not!” Josiah snapped, “as I attempted to point out to Miss Memphis, it would be unethical, professionally unthinkable and of questionable legality”

“Ooh, well, if you’re not gonna do it” Archibald was hopping from one foot to the other, “can I have a go?”

“No, you cannot!” Josiah gave his employee a stern look, “I propose to assign Ms. Knight to the case, in the hope that she can prevail upon Miss Memphis to modify her demands, somewhat”

“Awww!” Archibald complained, like a grumpy toddler, “I reckon I could sort her out, if we could get our hands on enough bandages, of course”

“NO, Archibald!” Josiah said, firmly.

“I dunno,” Archibald sulked, and scuffed one shoe against the other, “I thought you reckoned we ought to show some initiative”

“There’s ‘initiative’ and then there’s downright recklesness!” Josiah commented. “Perhaps we can move on to more mundane matters?  Thank you for the tea and biscuits, Archibald”

“No problem, Mr. O.” Archibald turned to leave, and then had a sudden thought, “’Ere, tell you what, if that Miss Memphis is up for it, I’ve got a length of carpet back at home she could use?”

“NO, Archibald!”

As the office door closed, Josiah could have sworn that he heard the sound of Sid James’ (with Archibald overtones) going “Hyar, hyar, hyar” down the corridor.