The Thoughts and Happenings of Wilfred Price, Purveyor of Superior Funerals by Wendy Jones

Author:Wendy Jones [Jones, Wendy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781780334721
Publisher: Constable & Robinson
Published: 2012-01-19T00:00:00+00:00

‘And how is Mrs Reece?’ Wilfred’s da asked. By damn, this was getting awkward – that was the third time he’d asked after Dr Reece’s wife. She was well half an hour ago; no doubt she was still well now. And he’d asked after Madoc twice and then Grace and then Madoc’s friend Sidney who was in the Army with him, yet Dr Reece had only nodded. But it was a bit trying, sitting here in the middle of the day – a nice day as well, and no rain for once – with Dr Reece at the kitchen table with not a word to say for himself. And the wireless off. It was usually the other way around: when the undertaker came to visit he was supposed to dampen the proceedings.

Wilfred’s da brought the mug of tea up to his mouth. Dr Reece had been sitting at the kitchen table waiting, silent as a Sunday, for the past nearly three quarters of an hour and counting. Well, clearly something was up, that much Wilfred’s da was certain of. No one he knew of was dead, apart from Mrs Cole and that wasn’t too great a surprise. Wilfred had gone to collect the body and should be back soon. It could only be that someone in Narberth had taken their life in their own hands and Dr Reece didn’t want to say a word about it until Wilfred was here. Terrible thing that, terrible thing.

‘I’ll wait. I’ll wait for the boy,’ Dr Reece had stated ominously when he arrived, keeping his thick wool coat on, despite the sunshine, and his doctor’s bag tightly in his hand. He looked disturbed.

‘You’ll excuse the mess,’ the gravedigger apologized. Dr Reece snorted. Wilfred’s father moved several old copies of the Weekly News, the book on the constellations, the blue teacup and the dictionary from the kitchen table and on to the windowsill. The kitchen was none too tidy, Wilfred’s da knew, but Dr Reece would have seen worse: after all, he looked after Mrs Hugh Pugh and gave her daily injections, and she was known for her filth and her twenty cats.

Dr Reece wouldn’t have a cup of tea so Wilfred’s da had offered him a custard cream biscuit then a Jacob’s Cream Cracker, but Dr Reece had frowned his refusal. It was a solemn occasion then; as well it might be with someone in Narberth taking their life, and no time for biscuits. But there was no knowing exactly when Wilfred would be back, and on a fine day like this, it was going to be a long wait and a stuffy afternoon.

‘It’s been pleasant weather now for a couple of days,’ commented Wilfred’s da, attempting one last time to lighten the atmosphere. Dr Reece harrumphed out of his nostrils. So Wilfred’s da joined his visitor in sitting wordlessly. Without conversation, Wilfred’s da was left to his own thoughts as to who it could be, which sad soul had done such a dreadful thing.

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