Last Orders

Vie

Well it makes you feel humble. It makes a man in my line of business feel humble to think of what they've got in here. Tombs, effigies, crypts, whole chapels. When all I do in the normal course of work is box 'em up and book 'em in for their twenty minutes at the crem.

He's got himself a guidebook, biggest, flashiest one he could find. Wonders of Canterbury Cathedral. Chose it like he chose that tie, I suppose. He stands, flicking through, as if he doesn't want to look at the cathedral, just the guidebook, giving us snippets, as if we can't make a move till we've had the lecture.

He says, 'Fourteen centuries. Fourteen centuries, think of that.' He says, 'They got kings and queens in here, they got saints.'

His coat's hiding most of the damage, but there's a smear of drying mud up his left trouser leg.

"They got cardinals.'

I look at Lenny and half wink and jerk my head just a little, as though I'm saying, 'Come on, let's go. Let Raysy suffer.'

And it's not a bad idea, considering, to get the two of them separated for a bit.

He says, They got nineteen archbishops. You know, if we'd thought, we could've taken him to Westminster Abbey an' all.'

Lenny and me shuffle off slyly, along the side-aisle, over the worn stones, as if we could be treading on tiptoe.

It makes you feel humbled. But it makes a man in my line feel relieved we don't all get to choose or we don't ask for much when we do. Canterbury Cathedral, please. I suppose we're doing our bit for fair dos for the deceased by bringing Jack in here, all thanks to Lenny. Levelling things off, like death's supposed to.

But then he didn't have his sights set so low, as I recall. 'Any lodgers?' he'd say. So I said, as if I was touting for custom, 'You ever thought what you'd want, Jack?' Half a wink. And he looks at me, face wrinkling, and says, 'Ooh, I don't know if you'd be up to it, Vie. I'm thinking big. I reckon nothing short of a pyramid.'