This is the memoir of an unconventional, to say the least, undertaker. When we first meet the author he is engaged in making crop circles in nearby fields and nearing burnout. Rupert, Ru for short, was 29, a Trustafarian who had burned through his inheritance from his mother on dodgy schemes and even dodgier friends. He had spent the ‘90’s in acid culture and raves and was wondering what next? Where does a love of 90’s raves take you in life? Strangely enough he decides to become an undertaker. If the average reader is like me, little is known of undertaking. We may have been involved with the last rites of a family member, but the funeral industry does their best to insulate families from the details of their business, if not also the funeral and memorial service specifics. So, in reading this book, one learns much, some of it quite surprising. For me, the biggest surprise was how little the industry is regulated in England, where the author lives and works. I have no idea how similar or different the funeral industry is in the United States. The practice of having official pallbearers] is all part of the emotional infantilising encouraged by the funeral industry, all part of being turned into an audience at one of the most significant moments in your family history, instead of being empowered as a family and a community.”

When he became an undertaker, Rupert Callender undertook to deal with the dead for the sake of the living. What Remains? is the brilliant, unforgettable story of the life and work of the world’s first punk undertaker—but it is also a book about ordinary, everyday humanity and our capacity to face death with courage and compassion. To say goodbye to the people we love in our own way. In learning the ropes, Callender had some help and support from some long-standing families of undertakers (the usual route into the job). But he found a lot that he didn’t like about the industry and funerals. Those bearers, for one, along with Victorian pomp, carriages and limousines. “I think content is more important than stuff,” he maintains. It’s a macho world, dominated by big faceless corporations, bastions of conservatism. He doesn’t like conveyor-belt crematoriums; a 20-minute slot then it’s on to the next one. Doctor Who 60th Anniversary: Fans 'obsessed' by show's 'glorious' new opening titles as sci-fi series makes it's epic return: 'The budget is insane!' Part memoir, part rant against the traditional funeral business, part manifesto, part just musing on death and facing it with compassion and courage. It’s lovely and thoughtful and may make you rethink a few things.”— The GuardianLinda Robson takes granddaughters Betsy and Lila to CBeebies pantomime afterannouncing split from her husband of 33 years Mark Dunford

Chanelle Hayes showcases her impressive 9st weight loss in a yellow bikini as she soaks up the sun in SpainIt's extraordinary. You'll laugh, you'll cry, your heart will break, your heart will shine, filled with love. You'll be changed. An instant classic.' Call me morbid or call me realistic; in the last decade and a half I have read a lot of books about death, including terminal illness and bereavements. I’ve even read several nonfiction works by American mortician Caitlin Doughty. But I’ve not read anything quite like punk undertaker Rupert Callender’s manifesto about modern death and how much we get wrong in our conceptualization and conversations. It was poignant to be reading this in the weeks surrounding Queen Elizabeth II’s death – a time when death got more discussion than usual, yes, but when there was also some ridiculous pomp that obscured the basic human facts of it. Dean McDermott reveals he spent Thanksgiving at sober living facility and NOT with Tori Spelling and their kids