A FUNERAL director needs diverse qualities: patience, understanding, attentiveness, a sense of theatre... and discretion. Quentin Edgington wondered at one point if this interview arose because his company, G S Keates, had arranged the funeral in March of murdered Hampton teenager Marsha McDonnell.

But intrusiveness is not this newspaper’s style and he was happy to be assured that the choice was prompted by the prospect of gaining an insight into the ultimate service industry from ‘the oldest established family-owned funeral directors’ in the borough.

What is interesting is that Quentin runs the business with his wife Caroline. A sparky couple who switched careers in their 40s, they would put a refreshing spin on those programmes about midlifers running off to breed alpacas in Peru.

The former credit manager left a large company to follow his vocation and when the job with Keates cropped up, the family moved from Kingston with their two children to live above the shop in the High Street.

“I had always thought about this. It’s a people business,” explained Quentin. “It’s about caring. I thought I could do it and we believed that we were at the right age to make a change.

“It’s a challenge, but tremendously rewarding and hopefully we do a good job.

“We try to give 110 per cent and hope to get it 100 per cent right. We have not had had any complaints yet.” Quentin conducts the funerals and his wife makes the arrangements with the family. A vivacious former music teacher and singer, Caroline is the first person the family sees - the initial voice on the phone. (It’s always ‘the family’ since ‘client’ or ‘customer’ don’t really fit the bill).

She says the children, Sam now 16 and Lucy 13, took the change of direction completely in their stride. For her, though, it was a leap in the dark.

“I am an emotional person and I thought I will never be able to do this. I can never help bereaved people. But I can.” On his side of things, Quentin insists: “Anyone can conduct a funeral, but to find out what people want is an art. You must have empathy with the bereaved - which is not the same as sympathy; try to gauge how they feel and what they want and not to push. You have to be very careful and do it correctly - you only get one chance.” Many rituals surrounding death have died out, so to speak, such as drawing the curtains on the day of a funeral. However, up to 50 per cent of mourners still favour black and, while charitable donations are increasingly popular, apparently young people in particular still choose to express their feelings with flowers.

The funeral director remains constant, reassuring in the traditional ‘uniform’ Sunday best frockcoat and top hat which has endured since Victorian days, bound by the profession’s codes and ethics, respectful, never fawning - “people don’t want that” - tuned to interpret the wishes of people he doesn’t know who are where they least want to be.

Once upon a time, we would have granny on show in the parlour. Now final precious moments may be spent together in the chapel of rest; the deceased expertly prepared for all the world like someone asleep.

“It is very rare that the bereaved do not want to see their loved one when they are in their coffin, peaceful, at rest. That’s the impression they want to remember, not the death. Sadly, some deaths are in tragic circumstances and while embalmers are very skilled, they cannot rebuild a person.

“The way people deal with grief is different. I think it is important to be more like the continentals. When someone cries, I am never embarrassed. It is better for them. I say, ‘don’t worry, take your time’.

“There can be guilt - did I do enough when he/she was alive? There might be a family split or they might come together at funerals. There are rifts, but whatever happens, you must ensure that everything goes to plan. As a funeral director, you are master of ceremonies.

“Every funeral is different and some funerals affect you more than others,” admitted the funeral director. In his only reference to Marsha McDonnell, whose death remains unresolved, Quentin spoke as a father, saying: “You think about your own mortality and that it could be your children, my son or my daughter.

“We’ve not had many funerals for young people, although anyone under 70 is young to me. But even after a long illness, there is no protection from the shock, even when it is an old person. Human nature is that we all expect people to get better. It is still a loss, despite the age.” The choices open to people buying a funeral are burial, or cremation. Up to 80 per cent choose the latter because of the scarcity of land and the expense entailed in a burial.

A simple funeral can start at just under £1,000 - “this is a very competitive business” and there is no VAT on funerals, “yet”. There are myriad additional costs to consider.

“For instance, a doctor’s fee is due in the event of cremation, because two doctors must examine the deceased - which is not necessary for burial.

“It is to prevent the Harold Shipman-type horrors, because the body cannot be exhumed and examined once cremated.” The most extravagant ceremony would be a burial with a horse-drawn hearse and musicians. You can order lavish coffins, lined with rich quilting and solid bronze fittings.

They have to be imported from America where they are known as caskets and the cost can run into thousands of pounds. But Quentin thinks that people are sometimes sold funerals they don’t need.

“I believe that everyone should have a dignified funeral, not tacky, and I think that £4,000 is over the top. Now prepaid funerals are available so that people can plan exactly what they want and the cost is frozen at the time that they pay.” Even DIY funerals are possible, and there is a funeral ‘supermarket’ in Lewisham, but he doesn’t think it will be popular.

“We are asked to do all sorts of things,” he said tactfully. “They are totally irrelevant acts to anyone else but tremendously significant to the family. We have scattered ashes on a football pitch, in Bushy Park, Richmond Park, on favourite walks.” There are limits, though, for reasons of law, hygiene, common sensibilities and plain common sense. A cremation with a bottle of beer in the coffin would be a blast in more ways than one. All burials must be in a coffin, before sunset and while there is no law against burial in the back garden, you would have a job convincing the council of the idea, let alone the neighbours.

“We have arranged a burial at sea, out in a boat, but you can’t in the Thames. It is frowned on,” added Quentin.

He is keen to scotch a common jibe directed at undertakers.

“People nudge me in the ribs and say, ‘the coffin doesn’t get cremated does it? You keep it for next time’. We don’t. Each coffin is totally individual and won’t be used again. Now there’s a question,” he added. “Should we use temporary coffins? I don’t think so.” Society is certainly more environmentally conscious these days and so Quentin believes that woodland burials will continue to grow in popularity. It is something he is considering when his own time comes.

“It is good because the land goes back to nature; the body returns to nature and a tree can be planted. There are quite a few designated sites, in Brighton, Oxford and Gerrards Cross. It is a very dignified style and they are proper woodland areas, not a corner of a cemetery given for the burial.” While the Edgingtons say working in the funeral business has strengthened their faith, Quentin confirmed a trend towards humanist funerals.

“They are basically the bare bones of a Christian ceremony without any mention of God and no hymns, although sometimes the family will have religious music because they like it.” Humour is the great safety valve in this line of work. Having a family to look after, he and Caroline find it easy to switch off at the end of the day.

‘‘We relax with the children. We are all musical - I play the trumpet, but have never played at a funeral. We go out to eat and I swim at Hampton Open Air Pool, up at 6am twice a week.” He regards the television show Six Feet Under as “amusing, but not much to do with death” and he suspects the staff in the documentary series Don’t Drop the Coffin of playing to the camera. “People don’t expect a circus performance with a cane.” Not surprisingly, Quentin, an active member of Teddington and Hampton Rotary Club, is much in demand as a speaker.

“Oh yes, there are lots of jokes. It’s not all gloom and doom,” he says, with a twinkle in his eye. “People are intrigued by death and it’s not morbid. They are giving more thought to it. We are all going to die, it’s part of life and friends and relatives need to be prepared.’’