Charlene

Characters: MIKE(M), JOHN(M), RECEPTIONIST(M/F), LINDA(F), JAMES(M), CHARLENE(F).

"Charlene"

J. Jennings & Son funeral directors. JOHN and his son, MIKE, two suited funeral directors, are stood beside an open oak coffin. Inside the coffin, is a dead male, dressed in a shirt and tie and trousers. It is obvious that his funeral will take place later that day. MIKE is holding a clipboard and reading from it.

MIKE: So, this is Mr David Robert Thomas Higson, aged seventy-three, ex-carpenter, husband of Charlene and father of James, Robert and Linda. Cause of death - overdose. Place of death - St Michaels Hospital, Lichfield. Time of death - midnight... on the dot. Date of death - October 7th. How do they know it's October 7th if he died at - "precisely" as it says here - midnight? I've wondered what happens when someone dies then.

JOHN: Nobody knows. Maybe it was two seconds after.

MIKE: But then it wouldn't say "precisely".

JOHN: Does it really matter to us?

MIKE: Not really, no. (He pauses and checks his watch) His wife will be here soon. What a scheming, bitchfaced tart of a wife.

JOHN: Oi, leave it, she's bereaved.

MIKE: Bereaved my arse. She sniffed out his savings and his house a mile off. A mile of, I tell ya. She's a bloody gold-digger.

JOHN: Just because she's not seen thirty yet.

MIKE: Apart from wealth, give me one good reason why a decent looking lass like her - and underneath that make-up I bet she'd be quite looker - would want to marry a shrivelled up, impotent, sweaty old pervert this this old geezer?

John pauses.

JOHN: Sex?

MIKE: Sex? Sex? I dunno about you but I don't think he was up to much bump and grind or slap and tickle. His cock looks like a dead maggot.

JOHN: Well, his personality then.

MIKE: Don't make me laugh. Personality? The only thing that matters to girls these days is a big crotch and whether that's due to an overstuffed wallet or something more fleshy doesn't really matter to them.

JOHN: I have to disagree.

MIKE: Well, you would. It says here that he died of an overdose. How much d'you bet she-

JOHN: Shut up assuming! By the way, when is his family due to come?

MIKE: Any time now.

Right on cue, there is knock at the door.

JOHN: Come in!

The door opens, revealing a receptionist, David's wife, CHARLENE, and two of his children, JAMES and LINDA.

RECEPTIONIST: Mr Higson's family.

JOHN: Right you are.

The receptionist exits. CHARLENE, JAMES and LINDA make there way towards the coffin. JOHN and MIKE greet them kindly with a shake of the hand and a smile.

MIKE: How're you doing?

LINDA: As well as can be expected. Our Robert is back at the house trying to get everyone into cars.

MIKE: I see. Well, we put him in his best suit like you asked and his medals have been cleaned and polished. We can nail the lid down when you're ready. Would you like a few minutes?

James speaks rather stiffly.

JAMES: The old bugger knows we've said our goodbyes. No need to repeat them.

JOHN: Alright. It must be such a shock for you.

JAMES: It is. You just don't expect a bloke his age to die of an overdose, do you? To be honest, it hasn't really sunk in yet.

JOHN: Completely understandable. But they say at the funeral you finally except they've gone.

CHARLENE bursts into tears. Her crying is theatrical and very over-the-top.

CHARLENE: I-I-I will n-never except he's gone! How could you be so insensitive? I loved this man. I called him my furry little funboy. I was his monkey. I loved him so much!

MIKE looks slowly at his father who coughs nervously.