Told a lie. Poor pathetic auntie isn't getting buried next week, it's the week after next.
There are so many dead people in Shepherd's Bush(!) that the church is stacked up with funerals. The earliest the priest could fit her in was Easter Tuesday. They've even got a funeral on Easter Sunday. We're Catholics, these things matter.
Dad and Alky Cousin (remaining son of Pathetic Auntie) showed up at the hospital and the consultant who was due to issue the death certificate didn't show up until late in the day. This meant that it was too late to go to the Registry Office on Monday. Tuesday they showed up at Hammersmith Town Hall to find the Registry Office had moved to Fulham Town Hall (London Borough of Hammersmith and Fulham).
After showing up at Fulham Town Hall, the computers shut down so they were stuck in a queue waiting for the certificates to be handwritten. And Alky Cousin throwing his own vodka shaped spanners into the works was just the final straw for the people around him.
Alky Cousin has had a bollocking from the local registrar (showing up drunk just isn't on), from Dad (who didn't trust him to look after the death certificates) and from a distant cousin who's already fed up with ferrying people around because he's the one who can drive (Alky Cousin didn't even bother trying to learn). I'm really looking forward to the latest family gathering. Not.
So I'm looking for work for next week (which includes Good Friday) and I'm off the week after next. Yeah, right. That'll happen.