Funerals aren’t what they used to be, thank God. The bony Victorian hand of etiquette for a “decent” and expensive burial has loosened its grip. Things are looking up at last, and they’re looking cheaper.

This has been a difficult battle over the years. My first experience in the trenches came from two friends of many years, Barbara and David Huelin, formerly of Kingston Road in Jericho, Oxford. They were early recruits.

Barbara painted the picture for me: “It all started with an article and photo in The Guardian, very pleasant sunny picture of a hardware store in Gainsborough, with some coffins leaning up against the front window. Underneath was a sign saying “Chipboard covered in Fablon” – good old veneer Fablon – “£56”. Just the ticket, I thought. So I rang the man to place an order.

“He asked me to send the measurements and said, ‘Don’t forget to send me your hips. The hips are very important.’ I sent him the information, but didn’t hear anything. Six months later I phoned again. He sucked his teeth and said, ‘Very sorry, but my source has dried up. I’m having difficulty in obtaining any more coffins.’ 

"I thought that’s funny because that’s his trade, but then I realised his trade is to sell screwdrivers and planes and dustbins – hardware. I think he was a new boy on the block in the idea of selling coffins to the public. Jolly good idea too.

“It’s not easy to get a good coffin off the hook. I’ve read about a woman who discussed her husband’s death. She wrote to Homebase and suggested they ought to have coffins for sale – cash and carry – but she got a cool response because they didn’t think it would set the right kind of … tone.

“My chap in Gainsborough was frightfully sorry but emphatic – no more coffins. I suppose coffins are usually manufactured and sold to funeral undertakers and it’s not really usual for everyday people, the customers, to break in on that monopoly.

“So I got on my bike that autumn and went around visiting local undertakers in Oxford. I said that I’d like to make an enquiry, and they took that in their stride. ‘Oh yes, do come in… and what sort of a funeral were you requiring?’ or ‘Who’s died?’ You know – nice questions but I said, ‘No, actually it isn’t that. I want to buy a coffin’, and they thought that was a little unusual or even possibly... unnatural.

“Then I added, ‘Well actually, two.’ They said, ‘Oh’ and then they looked me up and down and told me I really didn’t need to bother myself because I looked as though I had another twenty years good life in me.

“I didn’t get much joy. It was a package deal, the whole works or nothing – certainly no coffin on its own. When I got home I said to David, ‘I won’t have it. This is abominable. They are straight-arming me on the coffin front. Look here, you’ve got to build these coffins yourself.’ “That’s right,” said David, “and since I slightly pride myself on being something of a handy man I agreed and built two coffins – one for each of us. And they both fit, we’ve tried them on.

“I got a really nice tip from the only helpful undertaker we met, one out of four or five. He told me we’d have to have a cushion or something because ‘if you put a dead body down flat the head falls back and it doesn’t look good’. So I put in those little platforms for our heads to rest on and if Barbara wants to put in a few cushions of dried herbs or something, well, that will make it all the better.

“We’ve got a double-decker plot, where we would be stacked one on top of the other, and you can get that for £120 at the Wolvercote municipal cemetery, a 10-star place. I think what we are trying to do is to make matters simple, cheerful and enjoyable, despite the fact that maybe we shall be missed. But what we are doing, now, almost unconsciously, is to create an occasion for family and friends that they will enjoy and remember for the rest of their lives as not altogether sad.

“And if in the process other people latch onto this idea and if they can in turn give something to their families and can make their departure bearable for the survivors, well so much the better. We will feel, if we survive to see it happen, that we have done a little bit of good in this wicked world. And we did it all for well under £400, and that’s including the champagne…”

Things have changed in 25 years. The average cost now stands at £3,496, a rise of 80 per cent in the decade since 2004. And with the “add on extras” of flowers, wreaths, catering and venue hire, the cost is bumped up by £2,000 to an eye-watering £5,502.

An alternative low-cost, no-frills funeral option is available. Lucy Jane started up The Individual Funeral Company in Rose Hill under two years ago and she told me: “There are basically two camps in the funeral business. Some directors still have a very old outlook and have been in the business for four or five generations and they don’t want to change.

“Then there are people from the multinational companies who see a better way of doing funerals, and a cheaper way.

“When people come to me and ask for advice I tell them they don’t need to spend so much money. They are very vulnerable and look to people in my position to protect them. My grandparents used to tell me that character is what you do when other people aren’t looking, and the funeral industry as a whole has forgotten that. They think it is only a business. Sure it’s a business but it’s not always about money.”