Bones & Ashe Part 3 – Some Body!
EXT – DayBusy High Street
An elderly lady (EDITH) in her late seventies, dressed in black and veiled, leans heavily on the arm of her son (CHARLES, 50-ish). They are very slowly making their way along the pavement. They stop outside a ‘shop’ and glance at the sign over the door that says: ‘Bones & Ashe, Funeral Directors. Est. 1876’.
CHARLES: We’re there Mum… let’s go in.
EDITH: Thank you Charles… you’re such a good boy.
They enter Bones & Ashe.
INT – DayBones & Ashe front office
The dingy office is empty. There is a small bell on the counter. Charles presses it (F/X TING). They stand and wait quietly.
EDITH: [dabbing her eyes with a large embroidered hanky] Oh, I do hope they don’t mind us coming to see him.
CHARLES: Don’t worry Mum… everything will be alright.
F/XSound of flushing loo from rear of premises
Mr Ashe enters, somberly dressed, adjusting his belt and buttoning his coat.
ASHE: Ah, so sorry to keep you. My name’s Ashe… how can I help you?
CHARLES: Good afternoon Mr Ashe. This is my mother… Mrs Edith Titmouse. She is naturally very distressed at the passing of her husband… that’s Mr Fre… I mean the ‘late’ Mr Fred Titmouse… you brought him here two days ago. My mother wonders if it would be possible to see him… just the one last time… before the… uhm… funeral… on Friday. She hopes it won’t be too much trouble for you.
Edith lets out a choking sob and clings even more firmly to Charles’ arm.
ASHE: Of course… of course… it’s no problem at all… if you will just follow me I will have my assistant, Clayton, arrange for an immediate viewing… our aim is always to please… come this way.
Ashe leads Edith and Charles through a door at the rear of the front office, down a corridor and through another door at the end.
INT – DayBones & Ashe Serenity Parlour
ASHE: Here we are… our Serenity Parlour… if you would just like to wait here a moment I will have Clayton make the necessary preparations for you.
Ashe leaves the couple in a small candlelit room. There are three or four armchairs and a central table stacked with periodicals such as ‘Morgue Monthly’, ‘The Funereal Gazette’, ‘Professional Taxidermist’ … and (of course) the obligatory 7 year old back numbers of ‘Woman’s Own’. There is low-volume organ muzak coming from hidden speakers. On a side table there are several vases containing an assortment of tastefully arranged bouquets. Across the end of the room there are a pair of heavy velvet curtains, currently closed. Edith and Charles settle into two of the armchairs and wait.
INT – DayBones & Ashe Preparation Room
Clayton is seen working in the preparation room. He is filling an enormous syringe from a large glass demijohn containing an obnoxious-looking green liquid. He is wearing a pair of headphones connected to a music device fastened to his belt. We can hear the ‘tsss tsss tsss’ sound of beat music from his headphones, Clayton jigs up and down to the sound. Ashe enters…
ASHE: Clayton… [Clayton cannot hear with his headphones on].
ASHE: [repeats, very loudly] C L A Y T O N! [Clayton jumps as he realises he has a rare visit from Ashe].
CLAYTON: [pulling off his headphones] Oh… Mr Ashe… I thought you were away this afternoon… do you want me for something?
ASHE: Of course I do, otherwise why would I be here? Stop what you’re doing and go and find Titmouse will you… there’s a woman with her son here… they’re in the Serenity Parlour at this moment, as we speak… just tidy Titmouse up and then move the deceased to the SP viewing area please.
CLAYTON: No prob… (uhm) where exactly is this ‘Titmouse’ at the moment?
ASHE: How am I supposed to know… you received the remains… two days ago… I assume you know where you put them. Come on… chop! chop!… don’t keep the customers waiting.
Ashe leaves the Preparation Room.
CLAYTON: Dam it! [Muttering to himself] Titmouse?… Titmouse?… Which one was that? Must be in the freezer somewhere… better go an’ look I suppose.
We follow Clayton as he heads towards the freezer room. He opens the enormous stainless steel door, walks in and starts to examine the labels on the variety of containers arranged along one wall.
CLAYTON: [Still muttering to himself as he reads the labels] Arkwright… Eccles… Johnstone… Peters… Rudge… Titmarsh… OK… that sounds a bit like it… let’s have a look.
Clayton opens the container, confirms the label attached to the corpse’s left big toe reads ‘Titmarsh and heaves the body out onto a table. The body isn’t that of the intended ‘Titmouse’ at all but that of 23 year old lap dancer from Essex who unfortunately got in the way of a drug war shootout in a Clapham nightclub during the previous week.
CLAYTON: [Still to himself] Cor… this one’s a looker… what am I supposed to do here then?… looks OK to me… better just stick ‘er on the posh trolley and wheel ‘er in I ‘spose.
Clayton fetches the viewing trolley (the one with the ornamental drapes and brass candlesticks mounted on each corner) and carefully lays the girl out, arms akimbo, and sets about applying make-up and other cosmetic necessities usual for viewing purposes. He selects a silk sheet from a drawer and gently lays it across the corpse. Satisfied with his work he heads for the Serenity Parlour Viewing Room with the trolley.
INT – DayBones & Ashe Serenity Parlour Viewing Room
We see Clayton enter with the trolley and carefully place it’s wheels over some chalked ‘X’ marks on the floor. He exits after leaving the trolley in it’s prescribed position.
INT – DayBones & Ashe Serenity Parlour
Ashe enters and approaches Edith and Charles.
ASHE: My dear friends… the arrangements you requested have been made. [he reaches for the curtain pull in order to reveal the Viewing Room]. It is time for you to view your loved one in their state of eternal peace.
Ashe tugs on the curtain pull. There is silence from both Edith and Charles, then:
CHARLES: Oh my God… is that truly my father?
EDITH: Sure is. Despite being 102 in March, over the last year he’d grown boobs, dyed his hair, undergone several face lifts, insisted on wearing that tarty make-up (even when we went for the weekly shop at Tesco) cross-dressed, spent most nights out in gay bars or whooping it up in the local disco, demanded incessant sex, signed up as a ‘Young Conservative’… and generally set out to piss me off completely for most of the time. Come on… we’re going home… and if you turn out like he did you can expect to have your botty smacked.
