lying in state

The Dad's coffin was in the hall.
Doctor Barn stood beside it alone, taking a last look at his father's face.
Stillness reigned.
My brother took his time to savour the memories.
The mood was broken by a series of muffled sounds rising apparently from the interior of the coffin.
Scraping, panting and a gasp or two.
Doctor Barn stepped back, ashen faced.
The noble Heelers emerged from beneath the coffin and began brushing himself down.
Doctor Barn stared at his brother.
It was a Kodak moment.
"Jim," said the goodish doctor when the power of speech had returned, "if you don't mind me asking... What were you doing under the coffin?"
A fair question.
"A corrupt cop passed through the hall a minute ago looking to express his sympathies," explained Ireland's dustiest living poet. "And I didn't want to shake hands with him."