The wicker men

 

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"We should really have a bigger choice of coffins.  Peaceful Planters have at least a dozen styles," said Todd.

"We have four big sellers - pine, chipboard, hessian-sack and oak lookalike.  Something for everyone's budget," replied George.

"Something for everyone's budget yes.  But not something for every taste.  Take Kirk for example. He'd be happy with chipboard. Kevin would suit an oak lookalike for obvious reasons. Pine will be fine for Jenny I'm sure. And I'm certain that the horrible new Lou would suit a hessian-sack.  But what about environmentalists like Roy or Nina? I'm pretty sure they don't want hessian or cheap wood.  We should offer wicker baskets. A Viking boat funeral.  Indian pyres.  We need to get this business on a firmer footing."  Todd's eyes were wide open as he visualised the opportunities, and the money, that this new approach could bring.

"I think you're onto something Todd.   We can get old bits of wood from local skips to make pyres.  We can buy cheap canoes for the Viking boat funerals and take them along to the canal.  But where can we get wicker coffins?"

"I might have a source, George.  You're going to have to trust me on this one."

"Well as long as it doesn't lead to another nice mess," said George.

Later that day

Todd slithered into Gary Windass's Fine Furniture and Junk Shop. "Hey Gary.  I need some gear and I've heard you're the best source."

Gary jumped up and went over to the door and looked all around.  The coast was clear.  "I've got contacts.  If I've not got it in stock, I can source it for you.  What are you after?"

"I need some W," said Todd.  "Lots of it."

"Do you want cane, willow, reed or bamboo?"

"It has to be strong. What do you recommend?"

"Bamboo.  I'll put out some feelers, and should have the first batch in two days. "

Two days later

Todd was standing behind Gemma in Dev's corner shop.  Dev asked Gemma for £19.82, and before she could go into her purse and act surprised because she didn't have enough, Todd produced a twenty pound note, and handed it to Gemma.  "This one's on me.  And keep the change Gemma."  Todd had had an idea.

Gemma was taken aback but she didn't show it.  Quick as lightning she said "I haven't finished yet Dev.  I wanted 3 bottles of wine and a mega box of Daz Dev."

"Dazdev?" repeated Dev.

"A box of Daz...." she paused. "Dev."

"I got yyyyyou now," he said.  He laid the items on the counter and keyed the amounts into the till.  That comes to £49.50 pllllllllease."

Todd took out another twenty and a ten.

"Shall I keep the change?" asked Gemma.

"Not this time," replied Todd. 

"Why did you pay for me shopping Todd?" Gemma asked.

"That fifty I just gave you there.  I can give you that every week, if you do me a favour."

"It was only £49.50.  It would have to be the full fifty every week.  What do I have to do?  I didn't think you liked women though.  Didn't you are our Paul once have a thing?" Gemma had grasped the wrong end of the stick.

In the undertaker's office, a few days later

"It's a fine coffin, Todd.  Beautifully made. And you can buy them for £75 a go? It would be rude not to offer them," said George as he admired the craftsmanship.  "Where did you say you source them from?"

"Oh well, it's a local firm.  All above board.  Hand crafted by artisan weavers.  And the punters love sending their stiffs away in a bit of fancy wicker ware."

"Todd, I've told you before. Show some respect. We called them 'the bereaved' and not 'the punters'. The bereaved love sending their stiffs away in a bit of fancy wicker ware."  

An old lady came into the shop.  Her face was covered with a black veil and she wore a tweed skirt and matching jacket.

"It's my man. He's dead," she proclaimed.

"I'm so terribly sorry for your loss.  Have a seat and you can tell my associate and I all about him, and we can start to create a funeral which will be exactly as you wanted it, " said George.

Todd chirped in: "Bespoke in fact."

"Why don't you start at the ending and work your way backwards.   What was his name and how did he die?"  George knew how to get the recently the recently bereaved to talk.

"His name was Michael.  He died when a tree that he cared was cut down by environmental vandals.  He tried to stop the chainsaws but by the time he hobbled over with his walking frame, the tree was already falling. It completely ruined the walking frame and killed Michael outright. Such a waste of a young life, taken at 75 and we hadn't finished our 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle yet."

"What other hobbies did he have?" George knew the questions to ask so he'd gain plenty of material to work with during the service.  He listened carefully like a stage-show psychic doing a cold reading.

"He collected bits of aluminium foil for charity and he was the founder of the charity "Bridge the Gap" which recycles used dentures for the third world.  And he liked to put everyone's bins out so he could check that the right items were in the right bin."

"So he was interested in the environment then." This observation came from Todd. "Perhaps you'd like an environmentally-friendly funeral for dear Michael."

"We have this new range of wicker coffins.  Only £500, and all natural materials," George said eagerly.  "Here's one I mocked up earlier." He pointed to a wicker coffin on display on a fold-up table in a corner of the room.  A mannequin that George had picked up from the Burton's closing down sale.  It had a plastic face, painted on hair and the smug air of a man who knows that he is destined for finer things.

Todd spluttered on hearing what price George had quoted. "Yes, that's a good price. I'll go over the paperwork with George later to make sure he's being fair to all parties concerned."

The old lady was enjoying talking about Michael, and she was excited at the thought of him lying in the wicker coffin. "He liked a bargain, Michael did.  Once we went to Blackpool and he bought me a stick of rock because it was on offer, even though it wasn't treat night. Another time...."

"Sign here, here, here, there and here and I'll take a £1500 deposit on your card today," said Todd abruptly  stopping the old dear's nostalgic chat.  Even George was surprised at Todd's haste.

After Todd secured the deposit and ushered the newly widowed woman out of the door, George said, "You were a bit rushed there weren't you?"

"You're ripping me of George."

"How?"

"Five hundred pounds for a coffin I'm selling to you for only seventy five quid?"

"Too much?" asked George, briefly moved by the way that Todd appeared to be standing up for elderly consumers.

"Yes too much profit for you. If you can get £500 for one, I want £250.  I can't believe you'd try to rip me off George.  I'm letting you sleep with my mother for funeral's sake.  I'd never exploit anyone the way you tried to, far alone do so to a friend."

"How much are they costing you Todd?"

"I can get each one made for £200," lied Todd.

"But you said I can have them for £75 each."

"I was trying to do you a favour George. I didn't mind taking a hit on each coffin if it helped the business."

"Todd. I'm touched," said George.  Tears formed in his large glassy eyes, and for a few seconds, Todd saw what his mother saw in him.  He leaned in towards George.  Things with Theo were a little tough. George's manly voice broke the mood.

"It's a deal," said George. Little did he know that he had done so just in the nick of time.

"Deal," responded Todd, and his mind was immediately cast back to a few days earlier when he'd made a deal with Gemma.

A few days earlier, outside Dev's shop

"I don't like women Gemma.  It's not that kind of favour.  I need some stuff cut and shaped."

"Drugs?" Gemma had attempted to grasp the other end of the stick but somehow managed only to grasp a non-existing third end of the stick.

"Wicker.  I have two tons of wicker, and I need wicker coffins.  And you have four unproductive work units."

"Four wots?"

"Four pairs of idle hands. Your quads are costing you a fortune and bringing in no money at all. You and little Chesney are working hard to stand still.  We can set up a little play workshop in your living room, and your quads could weave wicker coffins.  £50 a coffin."

"Are you suggesting that I run a sweatshop in my house using my children as cheap labour, making them work for long hours every day?"

"Yes."

"In contravention of Article 138 of the Minimum Age Convention of the International Labour Organisation which prohibits employment of young people under the age of 15?" asked Gemma.  She was an avid fan of The Chase on ITV and she picked up a lot of interesting knowledge from it.  She didn't understand most of it, but she liked to show off now and again.

"Also in contravention of Article 4 of the European Convention on Human Rights which bans slave or forced labour," agreed Todd, feeling that he had gone too far.

Gemma didn't understand what Todd meant.  "Forced labour? I'll say it was forced.  I was in labour for 48 hours with that lot.  Yeah, they owe me.  Nine months I carried them and I've been running around behind them ever since."

"So, do we have a deal?"

"Deal." Gemma spat on her hand and offered it to Todd.  Todd shook her hand, and the deal was sealed.

What was she going to do with fifty quid a week?  That could make a big difference to her and Chesney.