The Undertaker's Cabinet Read online

  He sighed. Most of it would have to put away. It was no use imagining such a display. He understood that tastes had changed and such things were only for a discerning palate. But there would be some who craved it like him. Those who had a taste for such delicacies. Most of the area would have to be used to tempt customers. Not to excite their curiosity about the business of death but to give them the security they craved for their poor departed loved ones. Of course, that didn't mean it had to be boring or morbid. Far from it. He intended to bring them the most lavish funerals Littleoak had ever seen. The most extravagant visions of deathly carriage they could possibly imagine. And in doing so drive them toward his door and away from Moreton.

  He had one ready to go. One he'd brought with him. One for the crowds to see how grandiose a send off could be. The cast was assembled and knew their parts to the last; they'd played them often enough. The horses were resting in the churchyard, munching their way through grass, dirt and bone. He would remain here tonight, so he could be ready early in the morning. Besides, before any of that, he had business to attend to tonight and it might keep him up a little late, or a little early, depending on your point of view.

  There had never been a real chance of Moreton accepting his offer. He hadn't intended or wanted him to; that was all part of the fun. His face had been such a treat up on the bluff last night. Such a treat to behold the anxious fear painted across his expression and to hear the defiance in his voice. He was scared all right. Frightened of an old man who smiled a little too much. What a little scaredy-cat he was. If that little exchange had given him the creeps, just wait until later. There might be something worthy of screaming about then.

  He intended to get his hands on that cabinet one way or another but he intended to have a little fun along the way. After all it was the final part of the collection. The one he desired above all others. Soon it would belong to him and be where it was destined to be.

  He walked toward his newly formed altar office and paused at the threshold. The thrill of seeing all those faces was never lost on him. The thrill of seeing all the people he had known in his life, just waiting for him was as exciting as ever. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Good-day my beautiful friends! We will have new additions to our number soon. I do hope you will make them welcome!"

  Chapter 10

  "So, you want me to make myself scarce or what?"

  "What? No of course not. What are you on about?" Bobby asked. They sat at a table near the juke box in Crabbe's. Bobby had been mindful of his drunken condition the last time he'd met Esther in there and had ordered a pint of Guinness. He liked it but it was too heavy for him to get drunk on.

  "So you and Miss Esther can get a bit cosy."

  "Give it a rest." He sucked the creamy top off his pint. "I said we'd buy her a beer, that's all." He looked over his shoulder at Ruby who had been forced to serve behind the bar now Tom had come back to the business. He turned back to his brother. "Ah. You missing her already. Ah, ain't that sweet. My little brother's all loved up."

  "Don't knock it. She's a handsome woman."

  They'd come straight after work and Crabbe's was empty. Even so, Bobby knew it wouldn't get much busier the later into the evening it got. When Esther left the embalming room this morning they both followed her out and when she'd left the building completely they didn't go back in. Although neither of them mentioned it, they didn't need to. It was clear they didn't want to see it again, just yet. They'd busied themselves tidying up, re-jigging the displays and cleaning up a couple of gifts left by the devil cat.

  Visually, Bobby couldn't put his finger on why he felt uneasy around the cabinet, but he knew what he'd seen last night and that was enough. It needed time to air itself. To allow whatever nasty little secrets it had to float away somewhere else.

  "Here she is. Get your finger out of your arse and get to the bar." He heard Tom whisper, not very quietly.

  Bobby stood and drained half of his pint in one go. "Another?" he asked Tom.

  "Why not."

  Esther was already standing at the bar by the time he got there.

  "What're you having then?" he asked.

  She looked over his shoulder at Tom. "Same as you by the looks of it."

  "Three pints of Guinness please, Ruby."

  Ruby slid off a well worn stool and dropped her magazine on the bar. She looked as if it was a rude interruption having to serve someone and not, as it appeared, a valuable bit of business. She barely looked at either of them as she pumped the drinks in silence.

  "Did you have a good look at all that stuff then?" Esther broke the silence.

  "Not really. There was a lot of cleaning up to do and now Tom's back it seemed like a good opportunity."

  Ruby placed the pints on the bar. "And you can tell that brother of yours he'll be needed later."

  Bobby paid her and walked back to the table. He gave Tom his pint. "Go steady, Ruby says you're needed later."

  Tom rubbed his hands together. "Glad I'm still in the good books." He pushed a stool out for Esther to sit on. "What brings you to Littleoak then?"

  "Give her chance to sit down!" Bobby shook his head.

  Esther sat down and took a good drink from her pint. "The usual tale of loss, despair and misery I suppose."

  Bobby stayed silent. It was one of those awkward moments and he wasn't sure whether to ask for more or change the subject.

  "Well you've come to wrong place if you want to escape, thats for sure. This place is the number one shit-hole."

  Good old Tom. He could be relied upon to say the right thing.

  Esther laughed. "I'm not trying to escape, besides it wasn't that bad. It was just time for a change, that was all. It's not that terrible here besides there's a lot of property to sell round here."

  "That's because no-one wants to live here!" Tom stifled a burp badly and turned away to look at the jukebox.

  Sometimes Bobby wondered if they were from the same gene pool. "I suppose it's just another place that's outgrown itself and needs to shrink back a little." Bobby offered his opinion. Not that he'd ever thought about it before. Littleoak had always seemed the same size to him but it wasn't until he saw the property in the agent's window that he realised Littleoak was slowly dying.

  "Possibly. But it'll only go so far then it'll reach the size it's supposed to be. So, you two have been here for your whole life I'm guessing?"

  "Too right and look at the state of us." Tom put some change in the jukebox and Bob Dylan started strumming his beautiful guitar.

  "You're right. Our whole lives have been spent here, trying to look after the business our esteemed ancestors built from nothing. It's not working out exactly as I'd planned. Especially not now Creepy Jacobs has come to town." Bobby finished his first pint.

  "So what're you going do about it?" Esther asked.

  Bobby shrugged. "Not sure yet. We're still thinking about that one aren't we?" He kicked Tom under the table.

  "Huh? Yes of course. I'm thinking about it right now."

  Bobby shot his brother a look. Less than a day back into it and he was already showing his usual lack of interest.

  "I'm kidding! I have got some ideas as it happens." He turned back round completely. "I'm think we go old school. Proper Victorian pomp but I'm not talking about it now. Not while we're having a drink."

  Bobby nodded. It was worth a try. Anything was worth a try.

  Bon Scott interrupted Bob Dylan and screeched into Bobby's pocket like a demon. Bobby cursed under his breath. He'd change the ring tone tomorrow.

  "Nice." Esther said with an approving nod.

  Bobby nodded and took the phone from his jacket. It was a private number. "Hello?"

  A low sob filtered into his ear. "Mr Moreton?" The voice quivered with emotion.

  "Speaking."

  "My Lucy passed this morning. Can you come and help me please?" The name Lucy sent a shiver down his spine. He took a moment to compose himself.

  "Of course
I can. What address will I be coming to?" Bobby memorised the address. "I'll be there within the hour, Mr...? The call ended.

  "Business?" Tom asked.

  Bobby turned to Esther. "I'm really sorry but we've got to go and take care of someone. Can we give you a lift somewhere?"

  Tom stood up and put his hand on Bobby's shoulder. He straightened his tie. "I've got this one. You stay and keep Esther company." He winked very obviously.

  Bobby stood up. "I can't even trust you to look after the shop for an hour. What makes you think I'd allow this?"

  Tom tapped his nose. "Listen to Bob." He closed his eyes and sang along with the jukebox, "The times, they are a changing." He opened his eyes again. "I'm changing Bobby. Give me a chance to show you."

  He looked so earnest Bobby didn't know what to say. He didn't entirely trust Tom on his own but maybe he had to start trying if they were to dig themselves out of the mess they were in.

  He sighed. "Okay. I'll meet you back at the office in what? An hour and a half?"

  Tom drained his first pint and pushed his second across the table at Esther. "Got any gum?" he asked her.

  Esther rummaged in her bag and brought out a pack of Wrigley's Juicy Fruit. "Old school all the way."

  Tom laughed and looked at Bobby. "I like her, she can come again." He popped the gum in his mouth and walked away. Just before he reached the bar he turned and called across the empty space. "Thanks bro."

  Bobby watched as Tom kissed Ruby. She put her hand on his cheek and said something to which he smiled. It was a genuine and tender moment. Perhaps there was more to Ruby and Tom than a sordid fumble in the rooms above Crabbe's. He'd lay off teasing Tom about it. It looked like it was worth more than that.

  He looked at Esther and smiled. All of a sudden it was just the two of them. All of a sudden he had no idea what to say and apparently neither did Esther. Bobby stared at the jukebox. Tom had obviously selected a few Dylan tracks before leaving.

  "I'm not a huge Bob Dylan fan to be honest." Esther said.

  "Me neither. I could put something else on?"

  "No it's okay. I'm sure your wife will be expecting you."

  "My wife?"

  Esther pointed at his ring. "Yes, your wife. I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate you having a drink with a strange woman. I'd imagine word would get around pretty quick in a place like this and I've only just moved in. I don't want to make enemies quite yet." She finished her drink and pulled her bag to her chest. "See you later."

  "My wife's dead." There it was. Plain and simple. Straight to the point and he regretted it instantly. There was nothing quite like the look on someone's face when you told them that little snippet. Except unless you'd just followed it up with the words, I killed her myself.

  "Not much I can say to that except sorry?"

  "And I'm sorry for telling you because now you feel awkward and don't quite know what to say. The next time we see each other, you won't quite know what to say, and then you'll try to avoid me. Like I said. Sorry."

  Esther sat down. "Well there's one way to avoid that. Buy me another Guinness and we put the music of anguish and pain on the jukebox."

  "Which is?"

  "Country and Western." Esther winked. "On you go to the bar then."

  Bobby pointed at the untouched pint Tom had left. "Tom left that for you."

  Esther picked it up and gulped a third down in one go. "I'll have this finished before you get back. Go on!"

  Bobby laughed and walked to the bar. An awkward moment had been diverted by the kindness of a stranger. She could've just said sorry and walked off leaving both of them feeling like they'd been run over but she hadn't and he was glad.

  "Two more please, Ruby."

  Ruby was clearly of the opinion that silence was the key to good hospitality but it made Bobby feel awkward. "He talks about you a lot. He's never done that before."

  Ruby looked up. "You mean when you tease him about me?"

  Bobby winced. Tom had obviously told her. "But he always speaks up for you and anyway I'm not going to do that anymore."

  She put both pints on the grubby bar cloth. "He treats me like a lady you know. He even bought me flowers. I think he got them from a funeral wreath but it's the first time anyone did that. He's a good man and you should trust him. He won't let you down because he loves you."

  Bobby reached into his pocket. She was right, he had to trust him and he would from now on.

  "They're on me." Ruby picked up her magazine, and without smiling or looking up, wriggled back onto her stool.

  Bobby walked back and watched Esther pressing buttons on the jukebox. Her blond hair was tied back in a ponytail and it bobbed from side to side as she watched record sleeves flick across in front of her. She hadn't taken her coat off again yet but it and a belt around the middle revealing a slender waist. She was slim but not like a stick and her calves ran long and lissome from the hem of her coat. Stop it Bobby. Stop thinking about where those legs end up.

  "Here you go." He put both drinks on the table and joined her. "I don't know where they got this from but the music isn't exactly modern."

  "I know, isn't it great!"

  "I suppose so." Bobby laughed.

  "Look at this. Bad Company, Creedence Clearwater, Blue Oyster Cult. This is classic stuff, Bobby. The question is, what do I go for? Any suggestions?" she turned and looked up at him.

  "Gotta be this one." He pointed at Blue Oyster Cult.

  "Don't Fear the Reaper? Nothing like taking your work to the pub eh?" She punched the numbers in and ushered him away. "Two left and they're secret."

  Bobby sat at the table and smiled. This felt good. It felt natural.

  *

  Tom pulled the car over and flicked his cigarette out of the window. Bobby wouldn't like him smoking in the car but he wasn't there so he couldn't give him a hard time about it. He pulled the half chewed Juicy Fruit off the dash and pushed it back in his mouth. It had hardened up a little but was perfectly serviceable as a disguise for his tobacco breath. He checked his face in the mirror and adjusted the knot on his black tie. He intended to do this right; to do it the Moreton way. This was the time to step up to the mark, for himself, and for Bobby. He opened the door and stepped into the cool autumn night.

  It was a house he wasn't familiar with. In fact until he'd pulled over he hadn't realised there was a house out here. It was on the old coast road but hardly anyone used it anymore preferring instead the faster but less scenic by-pass. The only folk who used it came to take a breather; to escape from the incessant buzz of traffic and chatter. Tom took a deep breath of air. It was delicious and fresh - the kind of air you only got in Littleoak.

  He stepped onto the driveway. He'd check it was the right address before he reversed the hearse all the way up to the house. Seeing one of those things from your front front room window when you hadn't ordered one was apt to ruin your night. The bungalow looked decrepit and unloved but when someone was on their deathbed, they didn't have time to worry about digging the garden or painting the window frames.

  If it weren't for the moon lighting his way he might have tripped on the tangle of roots and weeds which snaked over the path. It had been a long time since a car had driven down here; a very long time. He reached the door and paused. The window frames weren't the only things that were in need of drastic repair. The front door itself looked to be hanging slightly off and two of the stained glass panels were missing. In their place were black dustbin bags. This was not just unloved it was positively detested.

  He might have assumed he'd come to the wrong address if it wasn't for the wreath hanging on the lion's-head door knocker. He lifted the knocker and let go of it. Even gravity couldn't work its wonders and the knocker stayed at the horizontal. He shook his head and pushed it down on the rotten timber of the door and listened to the hollow echo from within.

  A few seconds passed without reply and Tom turned around. With a bit of care it could be a little beauty. It was set far enough
out of town to be rural and yet close enough to be part of the town. He walked to the front window and prodded the window frame. It crumbled beneath his fingers but new frames wouldn't be a problem and he could make them up in the workshop. It might be a bit unethical but it might be worth asking the old boy whether he might be interested in selling. Ruby would love it. She hated living above Crabbe's and to hear her talk you'd think she hated the whole place, bar and all. He might bring her out to look at it tomorrow. He lowered his head to the window and cupped his hands around his face. A few shadows fell across the room. What looked like a sofa, an armchair and a fireplace with a single candle spluttering on the hearth. Maybe it needed a re-wire and hooking up to gas too but that wasn't a big deal either.