Why I want to be on call when I go to my grave

HE grave of an ancient Briton has been excavated near Pocklington in East Yorkshire.

It contained the remains of an Iron Age Warrior from the third or fourth century BC, along with his chariot and two horses. Which made me wonder with what item I might choose to be buried.

Probably a mobile phone attached to a long-life battery just in case I woke up after everybody had gone home. Which is not as daft as it sounds.

Folk in the 19th century had a fear of succumbing to sleeping sickness and being buried alive, which is why so-called safety coffins gained a popularity amongst the nervous (and wealthy) classes.

In the simplest version, a rope attached to a bell above ground was tied around the hand of the dearly departed.

You may not be able to take it with you, but people have tried.

A Texas oil heiress was buried in the driving seat of her favourite Ferrari, a San Francisco Hell’s Angel went to the ever-after with his Harley Davidson and horror film actor Bela Lugosi was laid to rest in a Dracula cloak.

Writer Roald Dahl was interred Bob Marley (main picture) with Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart in To Have And Have Not, Bela Lugosi in his Dracula cloak, and (below) Roald Dahl (left) and Frank Sinatra with pencils, Frank Sinatra with a flask of Jack Daniels and Bob Marley with a guitar and a supply of marijuana.

Lauren Bacall buried Humphrey Bogart’s ashes with a golden whistle in memory of the famous line from the film To Have And Have Not.

And Reuben John Smith in Buffalo, New York, in 1899, instructed he be placed in his tomb in his favourite armchair-recliner, with a board game on his lap to pass eternity, and a key to let himself out. Just in case.