Oh, sister 22. (Memoirs of Nancy Trollop v)

I never liked the undertaker

The ‘orrid little runt weren’t exactly a troublemaker

But if things didn’t go ‘is way

Then ‘e’d storm out of the ‘ouse and refuse to pay

Do you wanna know ‘ow the toerag got ‘is thrill?

By makin’ me lie still

Like death

Oh, and that ‘orrible breath

When he got close

That terrible pong went right up my nose

So I would lie there givin’ ‘im that corpse like stare

While ‘e slowly and painstakin’ly stripped me bare

I wasn’t even allowed to move a little bit

Otherwise the degenerate would ‘ave a screamin’ fit

I ‘ad to lie there on the bed and pretend to be dead

I know that sounds a little bit iffy

But if everythin’ was right ‘e’d ‘ave a stiffy in a jiffy

Ready to take me at will

But first ‘e ‘ad to make sure that I was completely still

So the ‘e could relish in the fantasy ‘e was about to fulfil

Even the thought would give most girls a chill

And when ‘e began to thrust

Silence was an absolute must

Lyin’ there waitin’ for ‘im to spill

A scream from me would’ve been awfully shrill

At least it was always quick

But that didn’t stop me feelin’ sick

I even asked Robert to keep ‘im away    

But ‘e just wanted to avoid an affray 

“Jist dae whatever he asks ye tae dae,” ‘e said. “Chances are we’ll need a favour someday.”

“Are you mad in the ‘ead?” I said. “Do I look like I need a bed for the dead?”

Robert laughed until ‘e was chokin’ and coughin’

“Naw, ya silly moo!” he cried. “I wisnae oan aboot a free bloody coffin!”

I ‘ad no idea of what ‘e meant

What else was there to get from the despicable gent?

And then suddenly I understood what ‘e said

It’s somethin’ that fills every ‘ore with dread

Crikey, I’d be mortified

If one of me customers suddenly died

But if there was a chance to make the body disappear

The Old Bill would be none the wiser that ‘e were ever ‘ere

“Nancy, the undertaker an’ me have made a deal,” Robert told me. “If we ever have a body, he’ll help tae conceal. If there’s no a body, then there’s naebody tae blame. The deceased will be buried wi’ a fictitious name.”

And that’s exactly what ‘appened a week after we spoke

One of Nerys’ ‘ad a stroke

Fell to the floor and banged is ‘ead

Nerys kept screamin’, “The man is dead!”

“Somebody calm her doon,” Robert told the rest o’ us. “Ah need tae bring the undertaker aroon’.”

We ‘ad to be discreet

Makin’ sure no one was out in the street

Everyone played their part

Carryin’ the corpse to the ‘orse and cart

And gettin’ ‘im in a box before anyone clocks 

The men departed without delay

Just to get the body out of the way

It was a great relief to ‘ave avoided a blunder

Early in the morn ‘e was six feet under