Willoughby died December 15th, 2024. His last wishes were that should he die during the winter, his body was to be put 'on ice' until late Spring. His reasoning was that warmer weather would facilitate more people attending his elaborate celebration of life. Arranging and paying for it in advance of his death ensured he'd get the lavish celebration he felt he deserved. Willoughby wanted his funeral to take place in a church (not that he ever attended one), a cathedral, no less. The last rites were to be officiated by the Bishop. He contracted a prominent prima donna to sing the hymns he had chosen. Some were to be sung in Latin which he felt would be very impressive. A Springtime funeral would also ensure there'd be an abundance of flowers available for the massive arrangements he had chosen to adorn the Cadillac coffin he deserved. He arranged a rather pretentious wake to follow the ceremony. His ‘send-off’ would be a truly lavish affair. Generosity was definitely out of character for parsimonious Willoughby, but he spared no expense when it came to what HE wanted. He always loved being the centre of attention, even posthumously, it seemed.
Willoughby sent out beautiful invitations to his fellow employees, of a certain standing of course, as well as his many clients. Very few of his associates showed any interest at all in the invitation. However, the CEO of the firm strongly suggested that upper management staff attend. Nobody dared refuse. It would be wiser to go and thus ingratiate themselves with the company.
Among those specifically invited was Fiona MacGregor. Personally seeing Willoughby in his coffin was motivation enough.for her. To put it politely, he was her least favourite person. Over the years, at every opportunity, Willoughby had demeaned her by loudly voicing his disapproval of females in executive positions, one of which she held. Other female staff members avoided him whenever possible. Fiona was not his only victim.
The preordained funeral date, set for mid May, arrived. It was a bright, cheery day with a few menacing clouds lingering about. How appropriate. Fiona drove to the chosen cathedral and was surprised to see the number of cars in the parking lot. There was actually a queue at the entrance to the church. Who’d ever guess there would be so many employees and clients attending! The buzzing of soft voices greeted her as she crossed the threshold into hallowed space. Luck was with her, as most people had chosen to sit in the back half of the church, for a quick escape, Fiona speculated. There was an empty spot in the second row, an aisle seat no less. It would afford her a clear view of the open coffin. She almost sprinted to the seat lest somebody else grab it first. She took a long hard look at the coffin and sure enough, there lay old Willoughby in what looked to be a brand new silk suit. No money was spared when it came to himself. Fiona's seat also provided her with a very good vantage point from which to view the other attendees.
