On the Edge [= Dead Gorgeous]

26

Shortly after three that afternoon they were admitted to the office of Longshot and Greely, Funeral Directors, an oak-panelled or more likely oak-veneered inner room behind a curtained shopfront in Marylebone Road. When Rose was introduced as Antonia’s friend and Mr Greely put out his hand, she had to steel herself to make the first human contact since handling Hector. Her sense of touch was more sensitive than ever she had suspected. Actually she would have found Greely’s soft handshake obnoxious at any time. Probably he was not much over forty, but his movements were decrepit.

‘Park Crescent? I know it like my own house, ladies. That magnificent colonnade. And such commodious houses. Rest assured that any arrangements you should favour us with will meet the highest standards. Longshot and Greely have conducted funerals for some of the great families of London for generations. We shall be honoured to perform this last duty for your dear father.’

‘Husband.’ Antonia corrected him from under a veil. She had changed into a black fitted coat with frogged fastenings.

‘Indeed?’ An additional set of furrows appeared on Greely’s brow. ‘My dear lady, forgive me. One assumed... You appear so young for such a tragic eventuality.’

‘It was his heart.’

‘Ah.’

‘There was a weakness. We’d known of it for years.’

‘Even so.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Was it sudden when it came?’

‘Completely. He died at home in the drawing room.’

‘Today?’

‘Yesterday, about six in the evening.’

‘And he is still there? Have no worries, my dear lady. I shall arrange for him to be conveyed to our chapel of rest within the hour. From what you say I assume that there will be no need of an inquest and we can proceed with the arrangements within the next few days. I dare say you are too distressed to discuss such things as yet, but possibly tomorrow...’

‘I want to settle it now.’ Antonia spoke in a soft, yet decisive voice.

‘We shall see to it, provided, of course, that you find our terms satisfactory.’

Rose thought it appropriate to contribute something to the conversation since she was supposed to be the widow’s support. ‘It will be a very quiet occasion.’

‘Cremation,’ said Antonia.

‘Whatever you wish, ladies. I take it that the deceased — your late husband — expressed a preference for cremation.’

‘He wasn’t opposed to it.’

‘How soon can you arrange it?’ asked Rose.

‘Ladies, there will be no delay in my firm’s arrangements, I assure you. However, the Cremation Regulations do require us to observe certain formalities. Paperwork. Very tedious.’

Antonia opened her bag. ‘We brought the registrar’s certificate.’

‘Yes.’ He held it folded in his hand. ‘In point of fact, I must give you some forms to be completed.’

Antonia opened her bag and took out her fountain pen. ‘We’ll do it now.’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said Greely. ‘Form A is a declaration that you must make in the presence of a Justice of the Peace or a Commissioner for Oaths.’

‘Is there one nearby? If it’s only a matter of visiting an office, we’ll do it this afternoon.’

‘Ah, but as there has been no inquest, I must also let you have forms B and C, the medical certificate forms. Form B must be filled in by the doctor who certified the death and Form C is for another doctor of at least five years standing, who should also see the — em — body. Then all the forms, including this certificate you obtained from the registry have to be sent to the Medical Referee of the London Cremation Company for his written authority.’

There was a petrifying silence.

‘I understand your feelings, ladies, believe me. I wish the procedure could be simplified. It is, of course, a safeguard against deaths that happen in suspicious circumstances — not that this remotely applies in your case.’

Rose glanced at Antonia’s strained face and then back at Greely. ‘What is the procedure for a burial?’

‘Oh, much more straightforward.’

Antonia reached a rapid decision. ‘We’ll have him buried, then. I just can’t face all these delays.’

Rose nodded. It was the obvious thing to do. They couldn’t run the risk of forging the medical forms as well as the registration certificate. Burial was the answer. It wasn’t as if Hector’s body contained poison or had any obvious injuries. Even an exhumation wouldn’t reveal anything.

Greely seemed encouraged by Antonia’s change of mind. ‘Then we can attend to things at once. Let’s make sure that this registration is all in order. Forty-two, was he, poor fellow? No age at all. And I dare say you also have the other piece of paper in your bag?’

Antonia frowned and opened her handbag. ‘No, what’s that?’

‘If you left it at home, it doesn’t matter at this stage. Doesn’t matter in the least as long as you bring it tomorrow.’

Rose tensed and crossed her legs. ‘What is this piece of paper? She gave you the certificate.’

He opened a drawer in his desk and took out a form and held it up briefly for their scrutiny. ‘It looks like this. This one relates to a burial last week. The registrar will have issued a similar one with your copy of the registration certificate. You see, I don’t actually require the document you handed me. That is for your use. I require the other—’ He coughed behind his hand. ‘—the disposal certificate, as it’s known.’

‘The what?’ Antonia raised her voice in a manner hardly fitting a just-bereaved widow.

‘It’s the certificate that authorizes me as the funeral director — or whoever you should honour with the arrangements — to conduct the burial. Without it, I am unable to proceed.’

Antonia shot a horrified glance at Rose. ‘I didn’t bring it with me.’

Greely smiled reassuringly. ‘Not to worry. Not to worry at all. It isn’t the first time. People get confused, and understandably in the circumstances. Why don’t you see if it’s at home, and if it isn’t, if you’ve mislaid it, I can apply to the registrar for a duplicate.’

‘No, you will not.’

‘Oh, there’s no extra fee. I’ll tell you what I suggest. You ladies go back to the house and see if this elusive little form is lying about somewhere. In the meantime I’ll drive over with one of my colleagues to collect — that is to say, take care of — your late husband, and if for any reason the certificate is lost—’

‘No.’ Antonia cut him off in mid-sentence. She stood up and snatched the registration certificate from his desk. ‘I’ve never been treated with such callous and pettifogging disregard. I came here looking for sympathy and understanding and you talk to me about disposal, as if my Hector is unwanted rubbish. After this I couldn’t bear to put him in your hands. We’ll get someone with a modicum of respect for the departed to do it. Come on, Rose, before I say something I regret.’

‘Madam, I apologize most sincerely. I assure you I was merely trying to explain the formalities. Upsetting you like this is the very last thing I wanted.’

Rose wasted no sympathy on him either as she followed Antonia out. ‘It’s the last you’ll hear from us, anyway.’

Out in the street Antonia stood tight-lipped beside the car. Although Rose felt in a state of panic too, she offered to drive. In the WAAF she’d driven everything from staff cars to two-ton lorries.

Antonia’s voice was bleak. ‘What on earth do we do now?’

‘Better go somewhere quiet where we can think. Round the Park.’

Rose started up and swung the Bentley into Baker Street and across Park Road to join the traffic on the Outer Circle. For all she cared now, they could drive round and round Regent’s Park until the petrol ran out, a sort of limbo. Hell wasn’t far away.

Eventually Antonia spoke in a flat, embittered voice. ‘What did he call it?’

‘A disposal certificate. God, what a laugh! After all our trouble he didn’t need the death certificate at all.’

Antonia was white with shock. ‘I’m devastated. Why did I walk out of there? Now that it’s too bloody late I can see what we should have done. We should have let him collect the body. He wanted the job. He would have overlooked the wretched form. He could have stretched a point. He kept saying it wasn’t important.’

‘I don’t think so, Antonia. Once he’d seen the body he’d quietly ask the registrar’s office for one, and that would be curtains for you and me.’

‘It’s curtains anyway.’

They passed the Zoo entrance and Gloucester Gate before either spoke again. This time Antonia’s anger switched to Rose. ‘You knew about this all along, didn’t you?’

‘What?’

‘The bloody disposal certificate. What else? You must have had one for Barry. So why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Dry up, Antonia! I didn’t even look at the wretched forms. I just handed them over to the bank. They acted as executors, so they did everything. For God’s sake get it out of your head that I tried to undermine the plan. We wouldn’t be in this mess if I could have avoided it and that’s the truth.’

The force of this reasoning evidently impressed Antonia, because she took a more positive line. ‘Is there any way we can get hold of one of those damned forms?’

‘Only from the registry office.’

‘By reporting Hector’s death, you mean? That’s out. We’d have to get a doctor to look at the body first and write out a certificate.’

‘Do you think a doctor could tell what happened?’

‘He’d order a postmortem for sure. Perfectly healthy men don’t drop dead without some reason.’

‘Was Hector fit?’

‘He never had a day off work that I can remember.’

‘So he never saw a doctor. We could ask any doctor to look at him.’

‘Duckie, even the most pea-brained, superannuated, gin-sodden GP in the world knows bloody well that sudden death has to be reported to the coroner.’

Rose wasted no more words. Her mind was made up. She spun the wheel and turned sharp left into Albany Street, raced through the gears and stamped on the accelerator.

‘Christ! Where the heck are we going?’

‘You’ll see.’