RAILWAYMAN'S FOOT PART 1/4

 

 R A I L W A Y M A N ’ S    F O O T

An improbable tale by strzeka

Dedicated to my friend John P. of Melbourne

 

A suburban tale of disability

The first part of four

 

July 1961

 

Raymond Martin woke on the first morning after leaving school. It was a Saturday morning and he could hear his mother downstairs making tea. He rolled out of bed, checked his quiff in the mirror and jumped downstairs two steps at a time.

            – I do wish you wouldn’t make so much noise on the stairs, Ray. You know how angry your father gets.

            – Sorry, mum.

He hugged her and kissed her neck.

            – Off with you now. Can’t you see I’m busy?

            – I could hear you making a cuppa so I thought I’d come down before he gets up.

            – And I’m glad you did. We’ll have a moment to ourselves. Don’t be hard on your father, dear. He does his best, all things considered.

            – I know. It’s just nicer to have breakfast with you.

            – Dafty! Here you are, love. Mind, it’s hot.

            – Just come from a hot place. I know.

            – None of your cheek. How do you feel, Ray, not having to go to school ever again? No more teachers, no more homework. You’re your own free man now looking forward to his first job.

            – I don’t know really. I suppose it’ll be quite a change. Instead of having to learn about a lot of things I’m not interested in, I’ll be learning things I am interested in.

            – Yes, I know what you mean. Well, I’m sure you’ll do really well. Mr Lewis knows you’re a nice boy and has promised your dad to make you into a proper railwayman.

            – I hope I won’t let you down. There’s so much to learn.

            – Well, you’ve got the brains for it. Your report said you had learning beyond your years. Yes really! And that’s what the headmaster wrote. So it must be true, mustn’t it?

            – Really? He wrote that?

            – Well, I would show you but your dad put it in his drawer and I can’t go touching that. But that’s what he wrote.

            – Hmm. Can I have some toast?

            – Of course you can. Do you want the crusts?

            – They’re the best bits!

 

Arthur Martin had also been awakened by his wife clattering downstairs but lay with his eyes open tracing a route along the cracks in the ceiling thinking about how he had ended up in his current state. His left hand found the end of his leg stump and scratched and massaged it. Sometimes he thought it was the only pleasure he had left in life. His wife was an over-protective shrew, his son was a fop interested only in his hair and trains. And he himself had been a cripple for sixteen years since a bombed building he was helping to salvage collapsed and crushed his leg. At the age of seventeen, his leg was amputated mid-thigh and Arthur had worn a tin leg ever since. His girl had felt sorry for him and married him out of pity, or so he thought. June had immediately fallen pregnant and gave birth to Raymond in December, nineteen forty-six. Arthur had a job as a metal polisher at the Aladdin factory in Greenford, making paraffin heaters. It was tedious, repetitive and labour–intensive and his colleagues were mostly much older men or cripples like himself. He hated it. He had no idea of what he would have wanted to do instead. He only knew he hated his life and blamed his disability for all the lost opportunities he was sure would have otherwise come his way. He was a bitter man.

 

He sat up and reached for his artificial leg. He worked his stump into the socket and tightened the thick leather belt around his waist. He buckled the leg to the belt and stood. The damned thing was always so cold first thing. He was sure the window let in a draught in the night but he had never managed to fix it. His artificial leg felt as good as it was ever going to get and he limped to the toilet.

 

            – I can hear your dad upstairs. Eat up quick if you don’t want to see him, dear.

            – It’s alright, mum. I’m not frightened of him any more. I just ignore his comments. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about most of the time.

            – Shh! You shouldn’t say things like that, Ray.

She caressed her son’s cheek.

            – I’d better brew some more tea, hadn’t I?

            – I could do with a fresh cup.

 

Arthur Martin descended the stairs, thinking about every move. False leg down, real leg next to it. False leg down, then real leg. It was slow going and it annoyed him every single day, every morning, and every time he had to use the toilet.

 

            – Any tea? I see you’re both up.

            – Good morning, dear. Sleep well?

            – Hallo, dad.

            – I’ll have some cereal, June, if you’ve got any.

            – Of course, dear. Corn Flakes?

            – Corn Flakes, yes. I suppose you’ve had your breakfast, haven’t you? Couldn’t wait for me, could you?

            – We didn’t know what time you might get up, dear. It is Saturday, after all. You’re entitled to a bit of a lie-in.

            – My stump was playing me up again. Had to get up.

In fact, massaging his stump had brought him close to orgasm but he could not allow himself to ejaculate. It was a filthy thing to do.

            – Oh dear. I hope it isn’t bothering you too much, dear.

 

Raymond thanked his mum for breakfast and retreated to the living room. He turned the gramophone on to listen to what was on the radio. At ten, the jazz programme would start. Sometimes they played the latest records too. He was fond of music by Buddy Holly and Lonnie Donegan. He picked up a copy of the Evening Standard which his father had brought home the previous evening and read some of the news. The Russians had launched another sputnik and the American president said it was a threat to world peace. The prime minister was more careful with his words, saying he would be following developments with care. The cartoons were funny and he sniggered. He kept thinking about starting his first job on Monday morning and decided to polish his shoes to make a good impression. He took the tin of black polish, the brush and his shoes out into the back garden and gave them a good old clean.

 

Arthur Martin went into his garden shed after breakfast. He said he had to repair the lawn mower but Ray and his mother suspected it was just a ruse. He suspected his dad had a bottle of something or other in the shed and sneaked in to drink without upsetting his mum. The old bugger was always a lot mellower at lunchtime than at breakfast. Ray was perfectly aware of what caused his father to be such a miserable sod. Personally, he would welcome having a stump. A nicely rounded end to his thigh instead of a knee and the rest of it. It must feel wizard to be able to massage the end of your leg without bending over. Just rubbing the tip of your leg stump whenever you wanted. Lovely! Ray thought his father was ungrateful for complaining about his stump so often. He used it as an excuse for being a miserable bastard. If Ray had one, he would cherish it and be proud of having it.

 

Monday morning at five thirty. Ray’s alarm rang and he shut it off as quickly as possible. He went to the bathroom and gave his face a quick rub. His beard looked tidy enough, after having shaved it the previous evening. He used water and a little Brylcreem to make his hair gleam and ensured the front curl was perfect. He crept downstairs, ate the sandwich his mum had left for him under a saucer and took the lunch packet she had left in the pantry. He looked at his tie and shirt collar in the living room mirror and checked his freshly polished shoes. He was pleased and left the house quietly, pulling the front door shut so only the lock clicked. He walked to the Uxbridge Road and boarded a trolleybus to Southall Town Hall.

 

Southall Shunting Yard was a good ten minute walk from Southall Broadway and he still had plenty of time. Ray wanted to make a good impression but thought maybe getting there half an hour early would seem a bit ridiculous so he stopped at a tobacconist’s and bought a copy of the Daily Chronicle. He stood outside reading, then watched the cars and buses coming down from the bridge. He folded his paper in half and half again and felt very grown up. He was wearing his best trousers and his raincoat. He wanted a flat cap which would protect his hair without squashing it too much and still look cool. He could save up and buy one now he had a proper job.

 

He turned onto the road leading to the shunting yard and saw his future workplace three hundred yards further along the road. A cream signal box with a grey roof, windows on the first floor looking out on three sides, which controlled all the points and signals in Southall shunting yard. An old man would be teaching him the job before he retired. He had never met him and was more than a little apprehensive. He had to learn all there was to know about line transfers, delay strategies and everything else to do with shunting which ordinary signalmen had never heard about. He was sure he could pick it up. He arrived at the signal box and knocked on the door.

            – Hello, son! You’re early. Well, you better come in.

Edward Robinson stood aside to let Ray in. He looked at the young man and could see his father’s profile in his face. The pair of them had been great mates since the Blitz although recently Art had been less likely to get in touch. Never mind. His fine boy was here now.

            – Take your coat off and hang it up over there. I dare say you could do with a cuppa. Sit down for a minute. Shift starts on the hour so we’ll go upstairs then. Milk and sugar?

            – Yes please, Mr Robinson.

            – You can call me Ed. We’re all first names around here. Except to the boss, of course. You call him Sir.

            – You can call me Ray.

            – I will indeed, young man! Here’s your tea.

The tea was dark brown with flecks of curdled milk floating in it, served in a cracked mug which had last been washed several months ago. Out of politeness, Ray sipped it and found it very much to his taste.

            – Strong enough for you, son? That’s the way we make it here.

            – It’s fine, er… Ed.

            – Good boy. Drink it up and when you’re ready we’ll go upstairs and I’ll show you the layout plan. We have a main line through Southall. Trains up to Paddington. They don’t affect us, not directly anyway. We’re only interested in sorting stuff between Hanwell and Slough. Southall Junction is where the lines diverge so it’s our job to make sure the right wagons are on the right tracks There are eight tracks we keep an eye on. That’s all there is to it.

            – Well, I’m keen to learn how we do that.

            – Good lad. I’m glad we have someone who is interested. It’s not difficult work, this, but you have to keep your wits about you and concentrate on what you’re doing otherwise you could end up in trouble. If you’ve finished your tea, let’s go upstairs.

 

Ray put the filthy mug down and followed Ed upstairs to the control room. Two signalmen were on duty, not currently doing anything but waiting to hear a bell signal from the next box along the line. They would switch the traffic to the relevant line and acknowledge it to the preceding box. Then they would warn the next box up the line. They stood before a row of levers, each one controlling both a set of points and a semaphore signal. They were heavy to operate. You had to have muscle to get the levers moving and a bit of weight to pull them into position.

 

            – Let’s stand here and watch what Albert and Harry are doing for a minute. You’ll be doing this before long. I hope you have the muscle for it, Ray. It’s heavy work.

 

Raymond had had a fairly good diet and his mother had done her best to serve nutritious food rather than the stodge her husband would have preferred. He had the muscles even if they were not large and powerful.

 

A bell sounded and an arrow indicator on the console moved.

            – That means West Drayton Box has just given a green signal to traffic on the Up Branch Slow. We now have to check to see that the Up Slow line is clear past us, between us and Hanwell. If it is, we can give the traffic a green signal. That will sound a bell in Hanwell Box and they’ll do the same check and let us know they’ve done it.

            – Can you explain what Up means?

            – Well, we always refer to each track according to whether it leads to or from the nearest big centre. For us here, it’s the terminus at Paddington. So trains coming from the west are on the Up line. And when they leave Paddington and head towards Reading, they’re on the Down line.

            – So it’s Up to the City and Down from the City.

            – Right. Don’t get them mixed up, will you?

            – No.

            – Let’s go and look at the ledger. Everything we do here must be entered into the ledger. Even if it’s just going downstairs for a cuppa. Look here. 6:46, E. Robinson & R. Martin arrive. 6:53, Up Branch Slow to green. HB notified. HB acknowledges. Albert has already made the entry. It’s vital to keep the ledger accurate and absolutely up to the minute. If something goes wrong, heaven forbid, we can see exactly what preceded it. In that sense, it’s a protection for us too. If we can prove that we did everything right before a mishap, no-one can point the finger. So always enter everything as soon as you can.

            – I understand. I can see how important it is.

            – Good lad. Harry! You’re going off shift now, aren’t you?

            – Couple of minutes yet.

            – Raymond, would you like to make your first entry in the ledger?

            – That Mr Rogers is leaving?

            – Exactly. Time and description. We use a lot of shorthand and abbreviations which you’ll soon learn but it doesn’t matter if you write in full.

            – Alright, gentlemen. Have a good morning.

He approached Ray and shook his hand.

            – Welcome aboard, young man. Pay attention to what Ed tells you and learn well. We’ll make you into a signalman yet.

            – I hope so, sir. Thank you.

            – Seven o’clock on the dot. I’m off. Bye!

Ray went to the ledger and wrote 7:00 H. Rogers leaves.

            – Perfect. Very good, young man. Nice clear printing too.

 

Ed took over Harry’s position and entered 7:00 E Robinson on shift.

            – Everything going well, Al? Had a good shift?

            – Nothing special so far. Been a quiet morning.

A commuter train to Paddington passed on the Up Fast. Ed explained to Ray that it had come from Reading and would stop only at Ealing Broadway before Paddington. Southall Box had no control over the fast lines. Their job was to control goods traffic to and from the industrial sidings in Hanwell, Hayes and West Drayton which were all on the four slow lines. Work picked up pace as the morning progressed and factories took delivery of raw materials such as coal, steel, oil and sent out manufactured products like radios, office furniture, light bulbs and cigarettes. The wagons were arranged according to instructions received from British Railways concerning the make-up of each train. The wagons needed to be in the correct order in the train so they could be uncoupled one by one along the train’s route to its final stopping point. A signalman’s job was to ensure the shunting engines had correct access at the appropriate time because the train drivers had no control over which track to travel on.

 

Ray watched the two older men attend to the signal notifications on the console, switching points and signals with the big levers, always entering a few words in the ledger. He began to see the logic to what the men were doing, the logic of taking responsibility from the box down the line and letting the box up the line know what they were doing. Ed kept him on his toes, asking if he understood what they had just done and making him explain what he had seen. Ed was hugely impressed with the way Ray was catching on. He was as sharp after nine hours on the job as he had been first thing in the morning. Oh to be young again! His feet were killing him and his back had been playing him up again recently after a couple of hours.

 

Robert Turner had relieved Harry at midday. You always knew when Robert was around by the smell of his pipe tobacco. He was rarely ever seen without a pipe in his mouth, whether it was burning or not. Robert was in his late twenties and identified as a beatnik. He wore slightly untidy hair and big chunky woollen pullovers and thought that his pipe made him look like an intellectual. He listened to jazz music when his friends were around although he did not genuinely like it. The older men saw through him and occasionally teased him but Robert was an affable bloke and got on well with everyone. Ray thought he was good-looking and hoped he could be his friend. He especially liked Robert’s pipe. It looked masculine. Perhaps he could learn to smoke a pipe too. He would ask Robert where to buy one. There was no-one in his family who smoked a pipe. They all smoked roll-ups.

 

Michael Coleman arrived to relieve Ed. A short gruff-looking man with muscular arms and a completely bald head.

            – Hello, young man. Who are you?

            – I’m Raymond Martin. I only started here this morning.

            – Well, it’s nice to meet you, young Raymond. I hope you will enjoy working with us.

            – Coming up to five, young Ray. Time to clock off. How are you feeling? Tired?

            – Not really. There’s been so much to learn that I haven’t even thought about feeling tired.

            – Good lad. Well, I’m off and I’ll see you tomorrow.

Ed went downstairs.

            – Are you off too, Ray?

            – Yes, I think so.

Turner made an entry into the ledger.

            – If you’re not in a rush, let’s go downstairs and have a cuppa. You can ask me anything. I’m sure you have lots of questions.

            – Alright. I don’t need to rush home.

            – I’ll be ten minutes, Mike.

            – Take your time.

They went downstairs into the poky kitchen cum changing room and Robert poured two mugs of half-stewed black tea into two half-clean mugs.

            – This milk looks a bit off. Should probably buy some fresh tomorrow. Never mind. So, tell me what your first day has been like.

            – It’s so much new information all at once. I think I’m beginning to see how it works though. We change the points so the trains can be made up and we let the other boxes know what we’re doing so they know when there’s traffic on the line.

            – Exactly! I couldn’t have put it better myself!

Robert fired up his pipe and Ray watched him closely.

            – I’d like to smoke a pipe, I think. It looks good. Nicer than roll-ups.

            – Cool! Have you tried smoking a pipe before?

            – No. I haven’t really had much money to buy stuff like that. And I’m still under age. I oughtn’t even buy tobacco.

            – Oh, I didn’t realise you were so young.

Robert was disappointed to discover that Ray had not yet reached the age of consent. He was a homosexual and might have enjoyed tempting this young man into forbidden avenues of desire. He would have to suppress his instincts around Raymond for the time being.

            – So where do you live? Do you have any brothers or sisters?

            – No, there’s just me and my mum and dad. We live in a house in Hayes End.

            – Not so far to come in the morning on the trolley, then. It sounds like a cosy little family.

            – Well, it’s alright I suppose but my dad is angry a lot of the time and I don’t really get on with him.

            – What’s he angry about?

            – Well, he lost a leg and he hates being an invalid. He sort of blames everyone else for it.

            – That’s just silly. It’s never bothered me.

            – What hasn’t? What do you mean?

            – Having one leg. I’ve only got one leg. Look here. This one is my wooden leg. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest.

He pulled up his left trouser leg to reveal a wooden calf and steel struts disappearing further up his leg. Raymond’s penis sprang to attention and he squirmed trying to shift its position. Robert was acutely aware of Ray’s arousal and decided to tease him further.

            – Oh! I didn’t know you are an amputee.

            – Well, there’s no reason you should. I don’t tell everyone. The only way you can tell is if you look carefully at my foot when I’m sitting down. It sticks up, like this, look!

            – How did you lose your leg?

            – Blitz. I was only six. Piece of shrapnel cut half my leg off. But kids heal quickly and I was soon running around on a little boy’s peg leg like nothing had happened. None of my friends paid it any notice. When I was twenty, I got this wooden leg and stopped using peg legs. I’m twenty-eight now, so I’ve been one-legged for nearly a quarter of a century! Ha, it sound like such a long time! Do you know what they call it when a railway worker has an artificial leg?

            – No, what?

            – Railwayman’s foot. Because so many railwaymen used to have accidents and lose a leg under a train. So they called a leg stump a railwayman’s foot.

Raymond was dumbfounded. Not only was his new friend a good-looking man who smoked a pipe, he also had a leg stump. And a wooden leg.

            – I think I should be going now, Robert. Mum will have tea ready soon.

            – And I should get back to work. It was nice talking to you, Ray. Bye now.

Raymond put his coat on and walked to the trolleybus stop thinking about how he would look if he were strolling along with a pipe between his teeth, walking on a wooden leg like Robert’s.

 

            – How did it go, dear? I expect you’re hungry, aren’t you? We’ll have to wait until your father gets home but there’s sausage and beans and mushrooms on fried bread. I know you like mushrooms so I bought some special for tonight.

            – It was really interesting. All the men were really friendly and explained what they were doing and I learned so much. And there’s another younger man who says I can ask him anything if I don’t understand and he’ll help me without the old men hearing.

            – That’s sounds lovely, dear. Why don’t you go and have a wash before your father? There might be some warm water left. I can boil a kettle for your father. It is lovely to see my boy starting to shave. I know it sounds silly of me. Off you go, love.

Ray went upstairs to the tiny freezing bathroom and let tepid water fill the basin. He rinsed his face and swiped his armpits and rubbed a dab of shaving soap onto his face. He shaved with a safety razor like he had seen his father doing, always against the grain of his whiskers, causing as much skin irritation as possible. He was lucky not to have any spots at the moment. He rinsed the slimy soap off with the scummy water and wiped his face on a bath towel.

            – There! That feels better, doesn’t it? I wish your father would get here soon. I don’t know how long I can keep these sausages warm without them burning. Why don’t you sit in the living room and see if there’s anything on the television?

Arthur Martin had bought a television receiver set the previous winter. It could receive both channels and they often spent entire evenings watching one programme after another, regardless of whether it was interesting or not. Perhaps it was the novelty of seeing moving pictures in your own home. It was like a tiny private cinema. Raymond would have preferred to watch a film in the Odeon in Hayes or Greenford. They were even in colour, sometimes.

 

His father arrived late and in a foul mood. They ate supper, dried out but still edible. Ray went to his bedroom. He found his school art book and sketched profiles of pipes and faces of men with pipes and the shapes of stumps and peg legs. And last of all, a man wearing a peg leg with a pipe in his mouth. Something alarming started to happen. Ray’s penis twitched really strongly and spat stuff out of it into his underpants. He did not understand what was happening and although it felt good, he was worried about what his mother would say when she had to wash his pants. It was like he had wet himself. Oh but it felt nice when it was happening! He would ask Robert about it tomorrow. Perhaps he had experienced something like it before and could give him an explanation.

 

He crept downstairs after changing into a clean pair of pants and they sat together until ten o’clock when transmission ended for the night and they went upstairs to bed. Ray lay awake imagining himself smoking a pipe, holding it in his hand, between his teeth, sucking on it, having other boys and men seeing him and smelling his smoke and admiring him. But never suspecting that he had a leg stump and an artificial leg hidden like Robert’s, a secret wooden leg and his pipe.

 

Next morning was dark and felt damp. His mother was already in the kitchen making breakfast with whisked eggs in a bowl ready to make omelettes. She still thought it was wonderful that eggs were off the ration and there were enough to go round, as many as you liked.

            – Hello dear! Sit down and I’ll get you some tea.

            – Mum, can I ask you something? If I smoked, would you be angry?

            – No, I don’t think so, dear. Your father smokes. Is that what you want to do?

            – Not really. I would like to smoke a pipe. There’s a man at work who smokes a pipe and I think I would like to try it too.

            – A pipe! Goodness me. I’ve never seen a young man like you smoking a pipe. But no, Ray, I wouldn’t mind. I rather like the smell of a pipe, myself. It’s nicer than the roll-ups your dad smokes.

            – Anyway, I will have to wait until I get my first pay packet to see if I can afford to buy tobacco and stuff.

            – Yes, your dad is always complaining about the price. The last time I bought a tin of tobacco for him, it was one and eleven pence. Oh Raymond, you’re growing up so fast! A job on the railways and smoking a pipe! Whatever next?

            – Well, I have to leave now, mum. Thank you for a lovely breakfast.

He gave her a kiss on her cheek and waved goodbye as he quietly closed the front door.

 

There was a pea-souper outside. You really could not see your hand in front of your face. He had over an hour to get to work and hoped he would make it in time despite the traffic moving so slowly. He found the trolleybus stop and listened for the swish of poles on overhead wires. A glow from the two decks indicated a bus had stopped and a throng of passengers boarded. It moved off silently and smoothly.

 

Ray imagined himself sitting with a wooden leg on the green moquette, smoking a pipe. He really wanted to see Robert again. Perhaps if he asked really nicely, Robert might show him his stump. What could he say? Are you very disabled? No, that was silly. He wasn’t. What sort of peg leg did you wear? That was silly too. No-one would ask a question like that. How about – can I see your stump? Too brazen. But maybe Robert wouldn’t mind. He had said Raymond could ask him anything. Yes, that is what he would do. Ha! Except he knew he would never dare. What would Robert’s stump look like? Would it be the same as his father’s rounded stump or would it be below his knee? A normal leg until all of a sudden – it stopped! Just a neat rounded stump. You could put a wooden leg on it and no-one would ever know the difference. And smoking a big pipe with an artificial wooden leg, walking down the street to the trolley stop. That was how he wanted to be. Like Robert.

 

The conductress was announcing the names of the stops because no-one could see anything.

            – Next stop, Southall Town Hall!

Ray got up carefully, trying to hide his erection from the other passengers. He stood on the stairs and put his hand into his trouser pocket to shift his penis sideways so it did not stick out so much. It felt a bit better. He only had fifteen minutes to get to work. He could make it if he walked quickly, although it would be awkward in the fog. Thank goodness he could remember the route from yesterday.

 

He arrived at Southall Box with three minutes to spare. He clocked on, took off his coat and went upstairs. There were two new faces he hadn’t seen before and Ed, waiting for him.

            – Well done, Raymond, for getting here in time. Not an easy thing today. I don’t how long this fog is going to last but it’ll be a good opportunity to show you how to use blasters.

            – What are those?

            – Well, when it’s foggy like this, the drivers can’t see the signals, or at least we can’t be sure they’ll see a stop signal. So we have to go along the line and put blasters on the rail. They’re like the caps you put in your toy gun when you were a lad. Except much bigger. We put five of them on the rail starting at the signal post and then every hundred yards back from it. When the engine runs over one, it makes a bang and the driver knows to stop. We put down five to make sure he hears at least one of them.

            – Doesn’t that make it very slow to control traffic?

            – It does, son. Very slow. But the engines can’t exactly get lost, can they, so there’s no reason to stop traffic completely just because the drivers can’t see. They go where the points are pointing and that’s our job to control. The only thing is to make them stop if the line isn’t clear.

            – That’s all sounds very interesting. I can see how that would work.

            – Good, because I expect you’ll be running up and down the track many times today setting down blasters. Now, do you want a cuppa?

 

Ray forgot about pipe-smoking men with peg legs as he concentrated on a signalman’s duties. A bell rang and the indicator showed than an engine had passed West Drayton. Ed acknowledged it with another two bells and entered the information into the ledger.

            – This one is going to the siding at Hanwell so we need to switch the points, Ray. You can start doing it today. These levers are colour coded for each section. Pushed back, it means the points are not engaged. The train will go straight ahead. But when we pull on them so they point forward like that one, it means the points are engaged and the engine will switch tracks. Understand?

            – Yes, that’s clear enough.

            – So you see here. These are the points for between us and Hanwell. There are fours tracks, so four points and four levers. Our engine is on up slow so if we pull this lever, it will move to Hanwell One, which is the siding line. Go ahead and pull the lever. We use that rag for a better grip. Drop it over the lever, squeeze the release and pull back as firmly as you can.

It was surprisingly heavy but Raymond immediately understood the force and weight required to move the lever. He managed it, not elegantly, but the points and semaphore switched and two indicators on the console moved.

            – Don’t forget, Raymond.

            – The ledger?

            – Yes, the ledger.

He wrote 7:17 Up Slow switch Han Br

            – Very good. I can see you have been reading through the ledger.

            – Yes, I had a look yesterday afternoon.

            – Very good. Now we wait for our engine to come through. They usually whistle just before they get to a signal box. It doesn’t mean anything special. They’re just saying Hello. But if they let off a series of short whistles, it means they’re unsure what to do, so stop them. Nothing wrong with going downstairs and telling the drivers what the situation is. We do it all the time.

            – So the drivers keep driving in the pea soup unless they hear our caps go off?

            – Exactly that.

Raymond imagined himself trying to pull one of the levers while wearing a peg leg. A stubby pipe clenched in his teeth.

            – I think I get it.

            – Good. We’ll probably have to go downstairs before long. Quite a few orders in this morning. It’s busy up at West Drayton. Two wagons of radios and television sets for some lucky people on the way. And then two empty oil tankers are coming back. We have to make sure we get them in the right order, don’t we? Wouldn’t want to deliver an empty oil wagon to Rumbelow’s when they’re expecting some television sets, would we?

            – No sir.

            – Just have to hope this fog lifts fairly soon. It would make life a lot easier.

 

The fog did not lift. At ten, West Drayton sent a bell announcing departure of an engine from their box. The route to Hanwell was occupied by some work controlled by Ealing Box so Southall decided to set stop signals with blasters.

            – Now’s your chance to shine, young Raymond. I’ll come down with you and see that you do the first one right, and then you can do the rest.

Ed found a box of blasters and extracted six. Ray noticed they were the size of a tin of tobacco.

            – Take these and we’ll set them. We should have enough time before the engine gets to us. They’re only allowed to proceed at walking pace in this sort of weather.

They went downstairs and Ed showed Ray how to place a blaster on a rail.

            – Just unfurl these metal flaps and wrap them around the rail like this. That’s all there is to it. Now walk a hundred paces and do the next one, and so on.

            – I understand. I’ll do that and be back in a few minutes.

            – Good lad.

 

Raymond walked along the track counting his steps and bent to place a blaster. It was easy enough. Another hundred steps. The fog was getting thicker, if anything. No-one could see him. He thought about a railwayman’s foot, a handsome manly stump like Robert had. He could put his shin on the line and let the engine cut it in half. Then he would have a nice stump which no-one would know about. He would walk around with his wooden leg and a pipe and people would admire him. He put another blaster on the rail and continued down the track. An engine’s whistle sounded from an indistinguishable direction. The fog smothered sound too. Perhaps the Up engine was on its way. Another few steps and another blaster. He could feel the rail vibrating. The engine was almost here. With his mind full of Robert’s stump and his pipe, Raymond put his lower leg onto the rail and waited. Wouldn’t it be wizard if he had two wooden legs? People would stare in wonder if he smoked a big black pipe on two wooden legs. He put his other leg on the rail just in time as the front bogie of the four-six-two severed both limbs and the following wheels ensured that no shred of tissue remained attached. Ray screamed in pain and was heard by both drivers. They slammed on the brake and the engine stopped ten yards past Ray’s body. Both drivers clambered down. A boy had lost both his legs, God help us!

            – Stay with him, Stan. Use this. I’ll get help.

He whipped off his belt and threw it towards Ray. Stan undid his too and twisted it around Ray’s thigh. His did the same with George’s belt. The boy was trembling and still conscious.

            – Don’t worry, son. It’s going to be fine. It’s alright. Don’t worry, lad. Help’s coming.

George ran to the box and banged on the door.

            – Open up! Call an ambulance!

Ed had been brewing a post of tea and opened the door.

            – Boy on the line been run over. Both legs off. Call an ambulance!

Ed looked at him aghast with his mouth open.

            – Where’s your phone? I’ll call.

Ed pointed at the far wall.

            – Emergency services.

            – I need an ambulance to Southall Shunting Yard Signal Box. Boy been run over by an engine. Both legs severed.

            – Please give the victim fluids and apply tourniquets. An ambulance will be there shortly.

            – Have to give him fluids.

Ed rinsed out a milk bottle and filled it with water. He found a glass and handed them to George who ran back down the line to Ray.

            – Sit up a bit if you can, son. Here. Drink this. And another.

 

The ambulance’s bell sounded through the fog. George handed another glass of water to Ray. One of the ambulance men shouted, asking for directions. Stan shouted back and three ambulancemen appeared through the fog with a stretcher. One knelt and inspected Ray’s stumps and grunted.

            – You did a good job of staunching the blood flow. Well done. Let’s get the boy to hospital. Ron, pick those legs up and bring them along.

            Ray was lifted quickly onto the stretcher and was on his way. Ron picked up the severed legs by the ankles, dropped them into a canvas bag and followed. Stan and George stood looking at each other, trembling with shock.

            – What do we do now? We have to tell someone.

They walked back to the signal box. Ed had called the police and explained the situation. He had also phoned Ealing box to let them know of an accident without stating the details.

            – Sit down, you two. Have a cuppa and you’ll perk up. We have to wait now for the police and for instructions from Ealing.

He put two mugs of his strong black tea on the table. Stan took one with a trembling hand while George stared ahead oblivious. The phone rang. Ed answered. It was Ealing, saying that the two drivers were to knock off immediately and go home. Two relief drivers were on their way to take over.

 

The police arrived in a car. They established what had happened, took the drivers’ names and addresses and asked if one of them could escort them to the accident site. Stan showed them. The only evidence left was some blood-stained ballast and half a pint of water in a milk bottle next to an overturned glass. A policeman took a few notes including the locomotive’s number. They thanked Stan for his co-operation and departed. Stan picked up the glassware and went back to the box.

 

The police car sped towards Southall Broadway and turned left. It followed the route the ambulance had taken minutes previously, along the Uxbridge Road to Hillingdon hospital. They needed to get the victim’s personal details and address if possible. The railwaymen had not known when asked. The young lad had only started work there the previous day. The boy had been taken directly to surgery and would already be under anaesthesia. The police would have to phone British Railways to discover his home address.

 

The chief surgeon at Hillingdon, Dr Stephen Foster, had rushed to the operating theatre as soon as he had been alerted. He decided there was enough healthy bone to save about two inches of tibia. The boy would be able to use artificial legs with thigh sockets. He worked calmly and produced two identical short below knee stumps. An assistant applied pressure bandages and Ray was taken into a recuperation room until the anaesthesia wore off and he could be taken to a ward.

 

Mrs Martin had just eaten lunch when someone knocked on the door. She answered and found two police officers standing there, much to her surprise.

            – Good afternoon, ma’am. Mrs June Martin?

            – Yes, that’s me.

            – I’m afraid we have some unpleasant news. May we come in?

She ushered them into the sitting room.

            – What’s happened? Is it Ray?

            – I’m afraid it is. He was injured on his job early this morning and was taken to Hillingdon hospital for treatment. We are unable to tell you of the nature of his injuries but we are instructed to inform you that he is now safe and out of danger.

            – Oh, I knew something like this would happen! Can I see him if I go to the hospital?

            – I’m afraid I can’t answer that, ma’am. But if you would like to accompany us, we can take you to the hospital and his doctor will be able to give you more information. I’m afraid we have been unable to reach your husband. Do you have a telephone number for his place of work?

            – Yes, I do. Just a moment.

She went to the kitchen cupboard and found her address book. She pointed the number out to one of the policemen.

            – Thank you. We will try to get word to him as soon as possible. Shall we go?

            – Let me get my coat and find some shoes.

She hurried back to the kitchen, made sure the cooker was off and the back door locked. She put her coat on in the hall and sat on the stairs as she slipped on her good flat shoes. She checked her face in the mirror and patted her hair and made sure she had her house keys in her handbag.

            – Ready? The car is just outside.

They pulled away onto the quiet suburban avenue which led up to the busy Uxbridge Road. The fog had lifted a little but they were forced to travel the two miles at a torturously slow speed. One of the policemen came into the hospital’s reception area with her and explained who she was and the reason for her visit. The receptionist thanked him. He bade them good bye and left.

            – Mrs June Martin, is that right? Here to see about Mr Raymond Martin? Yes. Please take a seat, Mrs Martin, and the surgeon will be along shortly to explain what has happened. Would you like a cup of tea?

            – Oh, not now. I want to know about my son.

            – Of course you do. He’s in good hands so don’t overly worry yourself.

She walked briskly through two swing doors and disappeared from view. A minute or so later, she returned with a tall, silver haired man wearing a white coat.

            – Good afternoon, Mrs Martin. I must ask you first of all, are you aware of what has happened to your son?

            – No. I was hoping you would be able to tell me.

            – I can indeed. Your son was struck by a railway locomotive in the fog while working on a safety procedure. His shins were severed…

June Martin gasped. She hadn’t expected anything like this.

            – …and I have amputated his lower legs leaving two short stumps below his knees. He is presently recovering from the anaesthetic and we have administered a painkiller so he will not be in distress when he awakens.

            – Both his legs? Gone?

She wailed with horror and misery.

            – I know it comes as a shock, Mrs Martin. Please don’t fret. Raymond is a strong young man and will certainly make a full recovery.

            – But he won’t get his legs back, will he?

            – No, he won’t. But we will fit him with artificial limbs and if he learns to use them skilfully, he will be able to lead a perfectly normal life. I have shaped his stumps to enable him to wear such legs.

            – Thank you, doctor. My husband is an amputee. He always has trouble with his stump. I don’t want that for my boy.

            – I see. In one sense, Raymond is in a good position if you are already familiar with the demands which amputees must face. It is a challenge for all new amputees and good support at home together with a determined attitude help very much indeed.

            – When will I be able to see my boy?

            – Come with me now, Mrs Martin. Let’s see if he is awake.

 

Foster held a door and they walked along a seemingly interminable corridor to its far end. The theatres were nearby. They entered the recuperation room and Mrs Martin saw her son’s figure, eyes closed, legs covered by raised sheets.

            – Still asleep. He should be waking up soon. If you wish, you may wait in reception until Raymond awakes and is transferred to a ward. Then we will call you and will be able to see your son for a short period.

            – Thank you, doctor. Yes, I would like to wait to see him awake.

            – Let me escort you back, Mrs Martin. If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to try to answer them.

            – How did it happen? That’s what I want to know.

            – I’m afraid that’s one question I don’t know the answer to. I suspect the heavy fog played a role in the accident. We have been busy today as a result of it. I expect the railway authorities will conduct an investigation and we must wait to hear their findings.

            – What sort of artificial legs will he have? My husband has always had tin legs and complains about them all the time.

            – Ah, yes. Aluminium actually, not tin. I assume Raymond will have a choice of materials. His amputations are such that he will always need to wear leather thigh corsets to which his artificial lower legs are connected. It is apparently a more comfortable way to attach them.

Foster did not mention that Ray’s stumps were too short for there to be any practical benefit from his knees and he would be almost as disabled as if he had lost both legs mid-thigh. He could imagine the lad functioning most easily with one peg leg and axillary crutches.

            – Well, here we are. Take a seat and we will fetch you the moment Raymond awakens. Please don’t worry yourself. Your son is in good hands.

            – Thank you, doctor.

 

June Martin waited two hours fretting about having two amputees in the house. All the extra washing, the never-ending demand for clean stump socks, the complaints about twinges and skin rashes and chafing, oh, it was too pitiful. She wept silently for her boy and for herself. Her husband arrived. He had been allowed to leave Alladin early under the circumstances. He had had to come by bus and had just walked half a mile from the Uxbridge Road.

            – Where is he? Have you just got here?

            – No, I’ve been here about three hours. The policemen brought me in their car. I’ve been in to see Ray but he was still asleep. They said they’ll come and fetch us when he wakes up.

            – What’s he had done? Why is he here?

            – Oh, don’t you know? Do you still not know? He’s lost both legs! I expect you’ll be happy now, having someone worse off in your house, your own boy.

            – Don’t you dare talk to me like that, woman.

            – I will say this to you. When Raymond comes home, I never want to hear another word from you about your stump, your disability, your problems – ever again. Not a word.

Arthur Martin had never heard his wife express herself as vehemently as this. He was stunned into silence and sat morosely staring ahead in silence.

 

A few minutes later, Ray began to rouse from his anaesthesia. He cleared his throat which caused a nurse to attend to him. She moistened his lips and stroked his hair away from his forehead.

            – Hello Raymond. Are you with us again? Can you hear me?

Ray nodded and gave a brief smile.

            – Your mum and dad are here waiting to see you. Let’s wait a few more minutes and see how you feel.

            – What happened to me? Why am I here?

            – You were hit by a train, Raymond. It cut your legs off, I’m sorry to say. But the operation was a success and you’re well on the way to healing.

            – You mean I’m going to have wooden legs?

            – I’m afraid so, Raymond. Don’t worry about that yet though. Let’s get you well first.

He was going to have wooden legs! He could remember nothing about the morning’s events.

            – Have a drink of water, Raymond, and then I’ll fetch your parents. I’ll be here too so I can see if they’re making you tired.

            – Alright. Can you bring them in now?

            – Two ticks.

She marched smartly down to the waiting room and called.

            – Mr & Mrs Martin? Your son is awake and asking for you.

They rose and stepped forward tentatively. Even though they had waited for this moment for many hours, they were reluctant to confront the awful reality that their beautiful son had become a legless cripple. The nurse held the swinging door open for them.

            – This way, please. Follow me.

She led them into the recuperation room. Mrs Martin went to her son and kissed him.

            – How are you feeling, love? Are you in pain?

            – I’m a bit groggy, like I want to be awake but can’t do it.

            – It’s just the medicine, Ray. Oh my love, I’m so sorry.

            – It’s alright, mum. I’m going to have wooden legs. I’ll be back at work before you know it.

His father stared at him, slowly understanding that his own role as the victim in the family was ebbing away.

            – Can we see his legs, nurse? I want to see his legs.

            – Mr Martin, I don’t think that would be appropriate at this time. We need to keep the legs as clean and sterile as possible.

            – Are you in pain, son? Where does it hurt?

            – It doesn’t hurt, dad. I can wriggle my toes.

His mother burst into tears and Arthur Martin looked at her impassionately.

            – I think that’s all we should disturb Raymond for today. We need to move him onto a ward and from tomorrow you may visit during normal visiting hours.

            – Don’t cry, mum. I’m alright. Don’t worry. Can you do me a favour?

            – What’s that, love?

            – Can you ask my friend at the signal box to visit me? His name’s Robert.

            – Robert. Alright, dear. I’ll telephone them tomorrow and get word to him.

She wiped her eyes, leant over and kissed his forehead.

            – I’ll see you tomorrow, dear. Bye bye, sleep well.

            – Bye, son.

The nurse ushered them to the main entrance and told them to try not to worry. She checked for free beds on the amputee ward and oversaw two junior nurses as they carefully moved Raymond onto a hospital trolley and then into his bed on the ward. Arthur and June Martin walked wordlessly back to the Uxbridge Road and caught a trolleybus home.

 

There were five men altogether in the amputee ward. They watched Ray’s arrival with interest, trying to see what amputation he had undergone. The nurses blocked the line of sight for some of them but the man in the next bed saw the truncated legs before they disappeared from view under raised covers. The nurses fussed for a few moments more, settling Ray into a reclining position and marched off.

            – Hello matey! Welcome to the club. I’m Michael Coleman. You can call me Mike. What shall I call you?

            – Hello Mike. My name is Ray Martin.

            – Looks like you lost both legs, mate. I’ve only got one off. Left above knee, that’s what it says on my chart.

            – What happened?

            – Lorry slammed into me when I was on my Norton. Bastard cut in front of me on a roundabout. I went flying off the bike and the bastard came down on top of my leg and smashed it to smithereens. So off it came. What happened to you?

            – I don’t know, really. I was working on the railway in all the fog and the next thing I know, I’m waking up here with no legs.

            – I bet you got run over by a train. That’s what happened. Well, look on the bright side. Think of the time you’ll save not having to cut your toenails.

Ray laughed. His stumps were beginning to throb.

            – Have you been here for long?

            – Over two weeks. I’m allowed to get up and walk around on crutches. I’ll show you later on. How old are you, Ray?

            – Fifteen. I’ll be sixteen next March.

            – Well, I reckon it’ll be a cinch for you to walk on artificial legs. The younger you start, the better it is. That’s what the bloke who was in your bed said last week. He’d already had one leg off and they took the other one because of some disease. Can’t remember the name of it. Anyway, he’d had his leg off when he was thirteen and was still playing football with a wooden leg in college. So he said.

            – I’m not so interested in playing football but I hope I can go back to work.

            – What do you do, mate?

            – I’m an apprentice signalman at Southall Signal Box. I only started on Monday.

            – What, like yesterday? You started on the railways yesterday and you’ve already lost your legs under a train? That didn’t take long, did it? Blimey!

 

It had been a sombre day for the signalmen. Ed blamed himself for not watching over Ray place all the blasters. The others consoled him that there was no reason for Ray to need such close supervision for such a simple job. Both points of view were equally valid. Ed wanted to know how the lad was faring and decided to pay him a visit to set his mind at rest. He would have to find out what time visiting hours were. Robert arrived for his shift a few minutes before five and asked where young Raymond was. He was outwardly horrified to hear about the accident but inwardly thought The little bugger went and did it! He had seen Ray’s fascination with amputation and his enthusiasm for artificial limbs the previous evening. Perhaps he should not have teased Ray by showing him his wooden leg. There was no reason for him to have said anything about it if the boy had not yet realised. He hoped he had not inadvertently inspired Ray to maim himself.

 

June Martin remembered her promise to Ray and stopped at a telephone kiosk on her way to get some shopping. She had the number of the Southall Signal Box and called. It was taking a while to answer. She was just about to press button B to get her tuppence back when someone picked up the handset and a deep voice said Southall.

            – Hello, is that Southall Signal Box? My name is June Martin, Raymond Martin’s mother.

            – Oh, Mrs Martin! How good of you to call. How is young Raymond? We are very concerned here for him. My name is Albert Mitchell, by the way.

            – Well, Mr Mitchell. We visited him yesterday just after he woke up and he seemed in good spirits. His life is not in danger, thank God, but of course we are concerned for his future as a disabled lad.

            – Yes, of course, that’s quite understandable. It may reassure you to know that we already have one amputee working here and I’m sure young Raymond will be able to continue when he gets his new feet under him. I’d like to say, Mrs Martin, that everyone here who met Raymond on Monday was very impressed by his initiative and we all hope he’ll be back with us in short order.

            – You’re very kind, Mr Mitchell. I’m grateful to hear it. Raymond mentioned one thing yesterday which is the reason I’m calling. He asked if a man called Robert could pay him a visit. Do you know who I mean?

            – Oh yes, indeed I do, Mrs Martin. Robert Turner is the youngest of us signalmen and he is an amputee with a wooden leg. So I’m not surprised Raymond wants to see him.

            – Oh well, that explains it. Strange how Ray would know about it, though. Never mind. Can you leave a note for Mr Turner, did you say, so he knows Ray would like to see him?

            – I will tell him myself, Mrs Martin. Please tell Raymond that we are all thinking of him and looking forward to welcoming him back as soon as possible.

            – Thank you, Mr Mitchell. Good bye.

She pushed the heavy kiosk door open and fiddled with her shopping trolley. She adjusted her headscarf and continued her daily journey to the shops, her mind filled with worry about her lovely boy having two tin legs. With two artificial legs, how would he ever find a nice girl? But perhaps Mr Turner would be able to offer some encouragement in that respect. She hoped he would get Ray’s message and pay a visit to reassure him.

 

Turner’s shifts were progressively earlier each day throughout the week and on Thursday he had the morning shift. Al had mentioned that Ray wanted him to visit. He was flattered and excited by the thought that he had made more of an impression than he had dared to hope. He checked his wallet and decided he had just enough to get Ray a little present. On his way to Southall Broadway after work, he stopped in at his usual tobacconist’s and selected a large billiard in deep mahogany, a beautiful straight pipe with a classic silhouette. He would have loved to own one like it himself.

            – Will you take it like this, or shall I wrap it?

            – If you have a box for it, that will do.

            – I’ll put it in this box. It’s not the same company, though.

            – It doesn’t matter. That’ll be fine.

            – That’ll be two pounds seventeen and six, please sir.

Turner paid, walked to the Broadway and caught the six-o-seven to Hillingdon.

 

June and Arthur Martin were already present when he strode into the ward. Ray had been telling them about all the remarkable ways in which the other patients in his ward had lost limbs. He seemed quite excited by it which they both thought unusual but presumably understandable. The boy was realising he was not alone in his tragic loss.

            – Oh, you already have other visitors. Hello Ray. Should I come back later?

            – Are you Mr Turner? Do join us if you can find a seat free.

            – We should be going, June. You don’t have much to say for yourself and I’ve seen the boy. We’ll leave you to it, Mr Turner. Nice to meet you. Bye, son.

June Martin stared at her husband with derision bordering on hatred and leant to kiss her son.

            – I’ll come and see you tomorrow, my love. Be brave, dear.

They left, full of unspoken criticism of the other. They spent the rest of the evening at home watching uninteresting television broadcasts in mutual silence and went to bed.

            – Hiya Ray! You’ve got yourself into a bit of a mess, I hear.

            – It’s nice to see you, Robert. I’ve been thinking about you so much. I can’t quite remember what happened but I want wooden legs like yours, Robert. I want to be like you. Alright, I have two legs off and you only have one. But we will both have wooden legs! Robert, I’m so excited at getting wooden legs! Will you help me learn to use them?

Turner was taken aback. Ray seemed to want a relationship. And he was still under age. The boy would end up on artificial legs because he was trying to copy him but surely the responsibility for his actions could not be laid on his shoulders?

            – Ray, tell me something. Did you put your legs on the rails because you wanted to have wooden legs after I showed you mine?

            – Yes. I think so.       

            – Oh my God!

Turner remembered what he had bought. He took it from his coat pocket and placed the box on Ray’s blanketed lap without saying a word.

            – What’s this?

            – Open it and see.

Turner smiled. Ray worked the tight lid off the box. Inside was a handsome pipe as big as the biggest he had ever dared imagine. It was what he had fantasized about more than anything else. Ever.

            – Oh Robert! Is this for me? Did you buy it for me? Aah!

            – You said on Monday that you wanted a pipe but couldn’t afford one so I thought you might like this.

            – It’s so beautiful. Thank you so much. It’s nicer than anything I’ve ever seen.

Ray picked the pipe out of its box and inspected it. He tried the bowl in his hand for size and felt its comforting shape for the first time.

            – It might be a little heavy for you to clench in your teeth all the time, Ray. You’ll have to hold it mainly in your hand. If you want to have a pipe in your mouth like I do, you’ll have to get a shorter one or a curly one which can hang down onto your chin. I expect you’ll soon have lots of pipes.

            – I hope so. Thank you, Robert. This means so much to me. It’s like I’ve become a man.

            – I know. I think so too. You and me with our pipes and wooden legs.

 

The days passed in their own tedious rhythm. Ed came in one evening to say hello, how are you doing? He’d seen amputees before, having fought in the First War and seen some of his friends lose limbs. They did alright. They married afterwards and had kids like anyone else.

            – Hello Ray. How are you, son?

            – Ed! Oh, it’s good to see you!

            – I’ve been worried about you. This is all my fault.

            – No it’s not! How can it be your fault?

            – I should have come with you to lay those blasters. Then none of this would have happened.

            – No, Ed. What would have happened is that we both got run over, or killed. We wouldn’t have heard the engine or been able to see it. Remember how foggy it was that morning. It was nobody’s fault. I was just doing a simple job. There was no reason for you to follow me all the way along the line. I don’t blame you, Ed. You did your job. You showed me what to do and I did it. But then I was in an accident. It was nothing to do with you, Ed.

Edward Robinson listened to his young legless colleague and wept. He held his gnarled face in his hands and was overcome by relief. He swiped his eyes with the back of his hand, sniffed back his tears and looked at Ray with something like fatherly love.

            – I was talking to Robert. He said there was something you might like.

Ed reached into his coat pocket and took out a green box which on which was printed Peterson of Dublin. He put it into Ray’s hands and explained.

            – He said that you would like to smoke a pipe. So bought you this one as a token of my remorse. I would like to see you smoke it when you come back to work. I hope that’s alright.

Ray pried off the lid to reveal a bent billiard with a silver connector half way along the shank. It was a beautiful pipe. Ed watched the boy’s eyes light up.

            – And because you can’t do much with just a pipe, here’s some tobacco to put in it. I don’t expect they’ll let you smoke in the hospital but at least you’ll have some baccy when they let you out.

He handed over a two ounce tin of Navy Cut.

            – I don’t know a lot about pipe smoking, Ray, but I do know that when you pick the tobacco out of the tin, you have to crumble it up between your fingers, squash it all up to make it rough and then you fill your pipe.

            – Ed, this is wonderful. Thank you very much. It’s such a beautiful pipe.

He put it between his lips. It hung from his mouth and it felt like a caress. His erection was becoming insistent so he took the pipe out of his mouth.

            – I’m glad you like it. I think you’re a bit young to smoke but there are lots of lads your age who smoke cigarettes so I don’t see why you shouldn’t have a pipe.

            – It’s very kind of you, Ed. It’s beautiful. Thank you very much.

            – Don’t mention it, my boy. Now, how are your legs? Have the doctors told you anything about getting tin legs?

            – Well, the nurses come around and change the bandages and a doctor comes and says Hmm so I don’t know. It doesn’t sound very serious if they just say Hmm.

            – Ha! No, it doesn’t. I’m impressed by the way you’re taking this, Ray. You have a positive outlook. My own brother lost a leg in the first war and never got used to it. Killed himself in twenty-three. Died a bitter man. He was only twenty-six. You don’t seem worried about it at all. And you’ve got both legs off.

            – I’m getting wooden legs, Ed. Just like Robert has. If Robert can do it, I’m sure I’ll be able to manage as well.

            – Well, I certainly hope so, young Raymond. Have you heard from British Railways yet about your employment?

            –No, I haven’t.

            – You see, they might not think you’re able to work as a signalman with two false legs. Even Robert had to get special dispensation to prove he could do the work. But he’s been one-legged since he was a nipper. You’ll have two wooden legs and only one day’s experience, so I don’t know what the board will decide.

            – Well, I want to continue where we left off. I want to learn the job. I don’t see why having wooden legs would stop me from doing that.

Oh, the innocence of the young.

            – Ray, my boy, your new legs are not going to be like the old ones. I hope to God you won’t be severely crippled but it will be heavy-going in the signal box on two wooden legs. Not that I’m saying you couldn’t do it, mind. But we’ll have to see. First thing is to get you up and on new legs.

            – With my pipe.

            – With your pipe, son!

 

Dr Foster arrived the next morning, surrounded by a bevy of nurses.

            – Good morning, Raymond. Let’s take a look at your stumps.

The stumps had been unbandaged earlier in the morning ready for inspection. Two fleshy pads below the severed tibia would provide a little protection from the inevitable pressure from artificial legs.

Foster held each leg behind the knee and gently squeezed the end of the stump.

            – Any pain when I press here?

            – No, sir.

            – I believe you are healing very well. I think it’s time you were up and about, my boy. Nurse will bring you a wheelchair and you can move around the ward and go as far as the gardens.

            – Thank you, sir. When might I be getting my wooden legs, sir?

            – Not for several weeks, my boy. But if your stumps continue improving at this rate, you may be allowed a peg leg and crutches next week. We shall see. Be patient, young man. I’m pleased to see you doing so well.

 

An hour or so later, a nurse brought Ray’s new wheelchair. It was a new model made of aluminium with dark maroon leatherwork. The footplates had been removed.

            – Would you like to try out your new chair, Raymond?

            – Yes please.

            – Good. Let me help you into it. Sit up on the edge of your bed. Mind your stumps. Now hold onto this armrest and hop into the seat when I say Go.

She held Ray under his arms and checked that his grip on the chair was correct.

            – Go! There you are. Now, this is the brake. Pull the lever back, that’s right. Now you can grip the wheels and move the chair. Try it. You can practise going up and down the ward. Don’t go outside just yet.

Ray got the hang of it quickly and was soon able to turn around at the end of the ward without stopping first. His fellow amputee patients watched him propel himself along with a grin on his face. It felt good to be out of bed after a couple of weeks. His mum would be surprised if he was waiting for her near the entrance in his wheelchair when she came to visit. She had recently been visiting alone. Arthur Martin had last visited his son the previous week. It was alright. Ray noticed his mate Mike watching him and wheeled over next to his bed.

            – You look like you’re having fun, Ray. Is it easy to push?

            – Yes, it rolls easily.

            – The one time I tried a wheelchair, it was a black, heavy clunker. Really difficult to move. That one looks just the ticket.

            – But you don’t really need a wheelchair, do you Mike? You have your crutches.

A new pair of wooden axillaries leant against the wall next to Mike’s bed.

            – True enough. I hope I won’t need them for long. I should be getting my tin leg soon and then I’ll be gone.

 

Robert came to see Ray soon after visiting hour began.

            – Whoah! Look at you up and mobile! Well done, Ray. It’s a sure sign that you’re on the mend. Hi Mike. You OK? So, have you heard anything about getting your new legs yet?

            – Not really. The doctor said this morning that I might have a peg leg next week.

            – Yes, I was thinking that you should be able to use a peg soon. You know how they work, don’t you? You bend your knee and kneel on a sort of shelf. Then you tie belts around your thigh to keep the leg on and Bob’s your uncle. I think with your short stumps, a peg leg will be a good choice if putting your artificial legs on is too much bother.

            – But I’ll still need crutches even if I had two peg legs, wouldn’t I?

            – Oh yes, I should imagine so. Or a least a couple of walking sticks. Would you like walking sticks? Have you thought about using a pair?

            – No, not really. I thought having wooden legs would be enough.

            – Ray, your wooden legs are not going to be able to feel anything. It’ll take time before you can walk on them confidently. I’m sure you will learn. Some amputees always use walking sticks though, especially if they have both legs off like you. How are your stumps? Sore?

            – They were a bit sore last week but they’re alright now. Oh, guess what! Ed came in last week and he brought me a present. I’ll show you.

Ray wheeled to his cupboard and took the green box out.

            – Look at this.

            – Peterson. Very nice.

Robert opened the lid.

            – Now that is a very nice pipe. I would like one like this but they’re very expensive. You’re a lucky boy to have two pipes already.

            – It’s something I’m looking forward to when I get out of here. I already asked my mum if it’s alright to smoke a pipe at home and she said she likes the smell of pipe tobacco.

            – That’s good. You’ll be quite the expert pipe smoker by the time you get back to work. Have you heard anything about that yet?

            – No, not yet. I hope they’ll keep me on.

            – So do I.

Mrs Martin arrived and saw her son sitting in a wheelchair for the first time.

            – Oh Ray! You’re up at last. How lovely.

She looked at the young man sitting on Ray’s bed and felt uncomfortable. He looked like a beatnik. Who was he?

            – Hello, Mrs Martin. It’s nice to see you again. I’m Robert Turner and I work at the same place as Ray.

He offered his hand and Mrs Martin took it tentatively and shook.

            – Nice to meet you, Robert. Are you the one who gave Ray a pipe?

            – Yes, ma’am.

            – That was thoughtful of you. I know Raymond has wanted one. Such a grown-up thing for a young boy to want.

            – It was nothing. Would you like me to leave you in peace? I just dropped in to say hello.

            – Not at all. You can stay if you want. Ray dear, the postman brought you a letter. Here it is, dear.

She handed over a long brown envelope. Ray looked for the sender but there were no other markings. He opened it and unfolded the letter. He read the first couple of lines.

            – This is from British Railways. They say in view of the circumstances, we regard it appropriate to continue your employment on a provisional basis. Your disability and performance will be reviewed three months after your return and a decision will be taken at that time regarding continuation of employment.

            – Well, that sounds alright, Ray. They’ll let you come back to work and you can carry on as an apprentice signalman with wooden legs. But if the work’s too difficult for you, I expect they’ll give you another job somewhere else where you can sit down at a desk.

            – Yes dear, you’ll be able to go back to work after all. I know you’ll do a good job. Oh, all that worry. Still, it’s over now. I’m so pleased for you, Ray. Give your mum a hug.

She leaned across towards Ray’s wheelchair and they embraced awkwardly. Robert flinched at the mawkishness of the scene.

            – Mr Turner, I understand that you yourself are…

She sought a suitable word.

            – Disabled? Yes, I have an artificial leg. I think I’ll be able to help Ray when he gets his own.

            – It’s very kind of you. I can see that having a friend in your position would help Raymond. Dear, I shan’t tarry. I can see you and Robert have lots to talk about and your father will be expecting his supper so I’ll be on my way. I’ll see you tomorrow, dear. Goodbye, Mr Turner.

            – Goodbye, ma’am.

            – Bye, mum.

She left feeling relieved that her lovely son was on the mend and could go back to his job after he got his new legs. She was beginning to accept the idea of Ray being on wooden legs. It didn’t seem to faze him and he had Robert as an example. What a nice man, offering to help like that. Perhaps not everything she had read about beatniks was true. If only Arthur could forget about his leg, he might be better company. What would he have been like otherwise? A trolleybus arrived at the stop almost immediately and she rode home to make her husband’s tea.

 

            – Ray, I was wondering about something. Do you like living at home? I mean, your mum is a lovely person but I don’t think you get on with your dad very well, do you? I was thinking you could move into my flat after you get out. I’ve got a whole room I never use. There’s a sofa and a piano in there but we could make it into a bed sit and you could always come into my half to make a cuppa or something.

            – Where do you live?

            – Acton Vale. The same old six-o-seven runs past and the bus stop is right in front of my flat. It would be ideal for you with two wooden legs. You wouldn’t have to walk very far at all.

            – I’m not sure, Rob. What would my mum and dad say?

            – Well, your mum said it would be a good idea for me to teach you how to use your new legs. I don’t know about your dad.

            – He wouldn’t care one way or the other. He only cares about his own stump.

            – Sounds like an odd fish. Well, what do you think? Oh, there’s one other thing. I have an outside loo. Have to go into the garden and down to the shed for a pee. That’s why I think it would be better if you stayed in my room and went to your bedroom late at night.

            – It sounds like a lot of fun. I don’t mind an outside loo. Can I think about it first?

            – Of course you can. We could split the rent and we’d both have a bit more money. We could buy ourselves new pipes with the extra.

            – That would be very nice.

            – Yes it would. Think about it, Ray. I know your mum wouldn’t like it at first but the fledgling always has to fly the nest sometime.

            – Ha! A fledgling with wooden legs.

            – With wooden legs and a pipe, Ray.

 

The following week, Dr Foster declared Ray’s stumps to be healthy, sturdy and ready for trying a prosthesis. This meant an artificial leg. A nurse asked Ray to follow her to rehabilitation and he wheeled himself alongside her at a good pace. A stern-looking doctor in a white coat turned to look at them as they arrived.

            – This is Raymond Martin, doctor. First visit.

            – Come in, come in. Thank you, nurse. Well, Raymond. My name is Christopher Young. I am your prosthetist. That means I will make your new legs.

            – How do you do, sir.

            – How do you do. Now, I want to inspect your stumps first before we try you on a peg. Yes, these look very good. Rather short but that cannot be helped. I will bring you a peg leg and crutches and see if you are able to stand.

He went to the back of the room and brought out two black wooden peg legs with rubber ferrules.

            – One of these should fit you. Let’s try this smaller one first. Lift your leg up for me. That’s right.

He pushed the peg onto Ray’s thigh.

            – That’s a little tight. We’ll try this one. Ah, a much better fit. Yes, we’ll go with this. Now I want you to bend your knee like you’re kneeling. Hold it like that.

He slid the peg leg’s struts up the right thigh and inspected its fit. He buckled the upper belt around Ray’s thigh and fixed the lower belt.

            – I am going to wheel you to the parallel bars. You will hold onto the bars and I will help you stand. I still need to fix the belt around your waist.

They reached the bars.

            – Stretch your arms along the bars and pull yourself up onto the peg leg.

Ray struggled a little and managed to set the tip of the peg leg onto the floor. He gripped the bars and hoisted himself erect. Young tightened the waist belt and buckled it.

            – Now I need to attach your stump to the peg. I will use a short belt. You must tell me immediately if there is any pain, do you understand?

            – Yes sir.

Young threaded the belt around Ray’s horizontal stump and tightened the belt. Leg and peg were now bonded.

            – Now hold onto the bars and lift yourself slightly. I want you to move the peg forward a little. Try it. Very good. Now take another step. Yes, you’re doing very well. Move along to the end. Now turn. Take hold of the bar with your other hand. That’s right. Come back up this end. Very good. Does it feel secure?

            – Yes sir. It feels very secure and sturdy.

            – Good. Wait just a moment and I will fetch some crutches.

He found a suitable pair and handed one to Ray.

            – Lift your arm slightly. I want to check the length of this crutch.

Ray balanced on his peg and held on to the bars with one hand while Young positioned the crutch.

            – Drop your arm. Hold onto the crossbar and I’ll see if it needs to be repositioned. Well, it looks alright to me. Here’s the other crutch.

Ray stood between his two crutches on the solitary peg leg.

            – When you walk, the padded part is not supposed to be in your armpit. It will rest against your ribcage. Keep your arms straight and move the crutches forward about a foot. That’s right. Now lean on the crossbars and bring your peg leg forward a little. That’s very good. Try another step. First crutches, then peg. Excellent. How does it feel? Are the crutches comfortable? Does the peg feel firm? It should be very supportive.

            – This feels very comfortable, sir. I think I can walk like this.

            – Remember your entire leg is rigid. Don’t attempt to bend your knee. It won’t help and you may lose your rhythm.

Ray moved away from the parallel bars and turned towards the open space of the rehabilitation room. He moved his crutches forward a foot or so and lifted his peg forward. And again. The strides were getting longer and he was moving a little faster. This was fun. It all felt so new and yet so right. A wonderful way to move. It wasn’t walking. It was pegging. Pegging on a black wooden peg leg. His own peg leg.

            – Dr Young? Is this my peg leg now or do you want it back?

            – It’s yours to keep, my boy. You are doing very well on it. When you get your new legs, you may either return it to the hospital or keep it. I suggest you keep it for emergency use in case one of your artificial legs needs repair. They don’t last forever.

            – So I can go back to the ward on the peg leg? I don’t need the wheelchair any longer?

            – This won’t be the last time you are in a wheelchair, young man. But yes, you may go back to the ward on the peg. I imagine your fellow patients will be very impressed. A nurse will help you to remove it later. You will soon be able to attach it yourself. Thigh belts first, then the stump belt and finally the waist belt. That peg is symmetrical so it will work on your left and your right leg. You may like to experiment to find which side you prefer wearing it.

            – Dr Young, how do I sit down?

            – Look here. There is a lever which you pull. It releases this hinge which allows your peg to bend at the hip. Your peg will stick out of course, and you will need assistance to get up again the first few times. You should be able to use your crutches to push yourself erect after a fortnight’s practice. That is the major disadvantage of a peg leg. The knee doesn’t bend. And when you stand up again, the lock at your hip will lock automatically and you’ll be able to peg along as normal.

            – Thank you very much, Dr Young. I feel so much better for being able to stand up again.

            – I’m glad to hear it. Now, I should also tell you not to wear the peg for more than about four hours each day. Your knees will otherwise become accustomed to being in the bent position and you will have trouble using your artificial legs when you get them. You will have to keep your stumps straight to use those.

            – Do you know when I will get my wooden legs, doctor?

            – You want wooden prostheses? Perfectly possible, of course. Well, I would say that you are about ready for the first casting. I am waiting for instructions from the surgeon before I start work on those. It will take about three weeks after the prescription arrives before you have your new wooden legs. Until then, you should be able to use your peg leg to get around. It may be the case that you are discharged before then and you will have to make your way here from home on the peg. Now, I will help you get your trousers on and you can go back to the ward.

            – Thank you, doctor.

 

Ray pushed his way through the swinging doors and swung himself into his ward. Michael looked at him in surprise and applauded a few times. Several others watched and smiled.

            – Look at you! Well done, matey.

Ray swung himself forward to his bed and leant on his crutches. He released the hip lock and placed his crutches against the wall. He let himself fall onto his bed and his peg bent into a horizontal position. He swung it round and relaxed on his bed. It was not comfortable. The tip of his stump was touching the blanket and had the weight of the peg pressing on it. He moved his pillow to the foot of the bed and placed the peg onto it. That was immediately more comfortable. He lifted the peg into the air and lowered it. It looked a formidable piece of equipment. Very masculine, painted a glossy black. A nurse brought his wheelchair back and parked it next to his bed.

            – You’ll still be needing this, Raymond. How do you like your peg leg?

            – It’s very strange to walk on it. But it feels quite safe and supportive.

            – Good. You ought really to take it off if you are not going to use it.

            – I’ll get up in a minute.

            – Very well. Call if you need help.

 

Ray reached over and made sure his crutches were within reach. He slid round on his bed so his peg was hanging over the edge and worked his way forward. The tip of the peg gradually pointed toward the floor and Ray took hold of a crutch. If he pulled himself up, the peg would straighten and he could grab the other crutch. It was a difficult manoeuvre and he fell back against his bed a few times. He tried lying on his belly and pushing himself off the bed backwards. Several tries later, he succeeded in getting his peg under him and pushed himself up with one hand, grabbed a crutch with the other and stood. He just about managed to get hold of the other crutch before he lost his balance.

            – Good show, Ray. That looks awkward, getting up.

            – Yes, I’ll have to work on that. There must be an easier way. Ah well. See you in a bit. I’m going in the garden.

Ray carefully pegged through the swing door of the ward and down the corridor to the grounds. It was a warm day and there were several patients sitting on benches or in wheelchairs, some on crutches with tall white leg casts. They looked in astonishment at the young legless lad with a single peg leg who had appeared. Ray was concentrating so much on moving that he did not notice their stares. He negotiated his way around a large circular flower bed and found a straight stretch of path. Maybe he could practise pegging up and down here. Work up a rhythm and some speed. The peg leg was a little shorter than his natural legs and it was entertaining to see the world from a slightly lower perspective. He thought about his future wooden legs and how it might be possible to have legs of various lengths. He could be seven feet tall if he wanted. Without being consciously aware of it, Ray had reached the perfect gait. He was striding along thinking of other things and had accidentally found the most suitable step length and cadence. He suddenly realised it himself. He was moving at a good regular pace and the crutches were beating an even rhythm on the concrete path. He felt pleased with himself. It was going much better than he would have hoped. He circled the flower bed again and returned to the straight path for another half dozen trips along it. That was enough exercise. He worked his way back to the ward and sat on his bed. He would take the peg leg off and sit in the wheelchair for the rest of the day. Maybe the next day he could try the peg on his left stump. It had been a little slower in healing than the right but it felt fine now. Ray loved the new hemispheres at the ends of his legs.

 

Next morning right after breakfast, a nurse approached and made the announcement Ray had been waiting to hear.

            – Good morning, Raymond. Dr Young is ready to start making your new legs. Follow me please.

Ray wheeled along behind her and met Dr Young again.

            – Hello Raymond. I have received the go-ahead to cast you for your prostheses. Thank you nurse.

She turned, smiled at Ray and left.

            – Have you ever worn a cast before?

            – No.

            – Well, never mind. What I am going to do is simple enough. I am going to give you two plaster casts like you have seen on someone with a broken leg. That will take the shape of your legs and stumps exactly. Then I am going to cut the casts off and use them to make exact plaster copies of your legs. They will in turn be used to make the thigh corsets and the weight-bearing lip on the wooden legs.

            – It sounds very complicated, sir.

            – I expect it does. Well, let’s get started. Hop up onto the table and sit tight for a moment. Do you need a hand?

            – No thank you.

Young busied himself collecting plaster bandages from cupboards and filled a bucket with tepid water. He handed Ray two stump socks and asked him to don them.

            – Make sure there are no wrinkles. All the way up as far as they will go.

He dunked the first bandage.

            – Let’s see. Yes, you’ve done a good job. When you get your legs, stump socks like those will be the first thing you don. Do you know the words don and doff? No? They mean to put your artificial legs on and take them off. Don and doff. And after the stump socks, you’ll probably need more padding on your legs. Does your mother knit? Ask her to make you some long sleeves to wear on your thighs under the thigh corsets. They need to be strapped on very tightly so a bit of padding makes them more comfortable to wear. Now, I want you to extend your left leg, hold it up for me and keep it still while I’m casting you. Usually you would be standing for this but you’ve messed both legs up. It was careless of you, Raymond. How did it happen, if I may ask a personal question?

            – I was laying blasters on the Up Slow.

            – Good heavens, boy! Speak English! What can you mean?

            – Sorry. I am an apprentice signalman at Southall signal box. And when we had that pea-souper a few weeks ago, I had to put blasters down on the rails to warn the train drivers that the signal was at red, because they couldn’t see them in the fog. Blasters are like the caps you put in toy guns. But much bigger.

            – Oh, I see.

            – And when the engine runs over one, it makes a bang and warns the driver to stop.

            – How clever! I’ve never heard of that before.

            – And then I got run over.

Young looked at Ray. There was no reason for him to have been on the line. Something was missing from the story. But Ray looked earnest and honest so he would have to take his word for it.

            – I see. I think you’re lucky to still be alive, Raymond. You could have lost a lot more than your legs.

Young applied plaster bandages up to Ray’s groin and reminded him to keep his leg as still as possible. They waited for the plaster to harden.

            – Is it getting warm?

            – Yes! It feels quite nice.

            – Good. Just a couple more minutes. So tell me about your job. You’re going to be a signalman. Is that where you have to pull those levers to switch the points and so on?

            – Yes, that’s part of it. We have to control the local traffic so the trains can deliver stuff to the factories and stay on the right lines.

            – That sounds very interesting. Raymond, I believe you are going to have problems operating those heavy levers with your new legs. You will have no movement in your feet or ankles and your stumps are too short to allow your knees to apply much pressure.

            – But British Railways have already said I can go back to work when I have my legs.

            – Indeed. I am glad to hear it. But I have another idea which you may or may not like. It will change your body image quite a lot and anyone who sees you will know immediately that you are legless. Shall I continue? As I have said, your stumps are very short. It would be possible to make a pair of stump boots for you which would make it much easier for you to control those big levers at work.

            – Stump boots? What are they like?

            – Quite simply, they are leather boots which you fit onto your thighs. You will kneel inside them so the lower part of the boots will have what looks like short feet but pointing backwards to hold your stumps. The base will have a thick rubber sole and the entire boot is reinforced with steel for rigidity. I believe stump boots would be a far better choice for you as a signalman. The disadvantage is, of course, that you would be only as tall as you are now when kneeling. Everyone will immediately see you are a disabled man.

            – But I could go to work on my wooden legs and change into stump boots.

            – Of course you could do that.

            – So, where do I get a pair of stump boots from?

            – I can place an order for them, Raymond. I shall have to recast your legs with the stumps in a kneeling position but I will first need to make an application for the work to be done. Would you like a pair of black leather stump boots, or some other colour?

            – Black would be fine.

            – Black it shall be. Now, I’m going to remove this cast. Hold still.

He sliced the cast off, taking care not to deform it and began to cast Ray’s right leg.

 

Later that afternoon, his surgeon and the crowd of nurses paid Raymond a visit.

            – I am satisfied with your progress, my lad. I hear that your legs have already been casted for prostheses so I am pleased to inform you that we are discharging you forthwith. You may stay overnight but we would like the bed to be vacant by noon tomorrow. You have a wheelchair and a peg leg and crutches which you may take with you. You’ll need to sign for them, but that’s for later. How do you feel about that?

            – That’s very good news, sir. Thank you very much.

            – I understand your parents visit you daily. You might like to prepare yourself to return home in their company at the end of visiting hours this evening. I wish you good luck in your future endeavours, my boy.

            – Thank you sir.

He was going home.

 

            – Hello son. How are you feeling?

            – Mum! And dad! Guess what? I’m being discharged! I can come home with you right now. They said I have to be out by noon tomorrow.

            – Oh that’s lovely, Ray. I have missed you so much not being home.

            – Let me put my peg leg on and we can go.

The shocking words had Mrs Martin’s stomach churning and his father watched as his son fitted the grotesque wooden monstrosity onto his right leg. He swung himself around and reached for his crutches.

            – Dad! Can you pull me up, please?

His father limped around his wife and the bed to stand in front of his boy. He reached forward and took his son by his armpits and lifted. Ray’s peg leg straightened and he arranged his crutches under his arms.

            – Thanks dad. I can usually do that myself. I’ve packed all my stuff and they’re in that bag. And someone should take the wheelchair. I suppose I could sit in it myself but it’s a bit awkward with a peg leg.

            – Don’t worry about that, dear. I can push the wheelchair and your father can carry your bag, can’t you, dear?

His father looked at her as if she were insane.

            – Give it here, Ray.

Ray pegged up to the end of the ward and said goodbye to everyone. Chris with no hands. George with one arm off. Albert who was having his remaining leg off in the morning. And Mike who was still waiting to be casted.

            – Bye bye, matey. I’m gonna miss you. You’ve been a good buddy.

Ray shook his hand and choked up.

            – I’m going to miss you too, Mike. Thank you for being a friend.

Leaning on his crutches and wiping a hand over his eyes, Ray said Ready and the trio moved toward the door and then disappeared from sight. The tip of Ray’s black peg leg was the last thing they ever saw of him.

 

            –That looks very difficult for you, Ray. It’s quite a way to the trolley stop. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to sit in the chair? I can push you.

            – No thanks, mum. I’ve been practising and getting used to walking on my peg. I can go quite fast when I want to. I don’t want to be in the wheelchair any more.

His father walked behind them, interested to see someone more disabled than himself managing on a buggardly peg leg. What a state of affairs. He had to give credit to the boy. He had guts.

            – I’ve got some nice bacon when we get in, Ray. And some fried tomatoes and fried bread with some beans. You’ll like that, won’t you, love? Oh, it is so lovely to have you home, Ray.

Mrs Martin had not yet considered the problems posed by a diner at her kitchen table who wore a peg leg.

 

The conductress on the six-o-seven took the folded wheelchair from Mrs Martin and the bag from Mr Martin to hold in the luggage alcove and asked if the gentleman sitting on the four seater by the entrance would mind moving to another seat so the young man could sit with his crutches. One glance at Ray had him moving to another seat. Ray hauled himself onto the long seat with his peg stretching along it, and leant back against the fare table. The conductress checked Ray was safe and rang the bell twice. The trolleybus accelerated away from the stop, its tyres against the road the loudest sound it made, the distant swish of the trolley poles making their distinctive music. Ray loved the handsome red buses gliding silently back and forth from home to town or to work or even to the hospital. It was so nice to be on a trolleybus again. They were tearing the overhead wires down and bringing in new buses. It was a shame.

 

Supper was served. Ray had no way to sit in the kitchen while wearing his peg. It was in the way whichever way he sat. He crutched to the living room, sat on the sofa and took his peg off. He left his crutches propped against the wall and walked on his knees back to the kitchen.

            – I need some help to get onto the chair, dad. I can get down alright.

Albert Martin lifted his son onto a kitchen chair. They ate their meal in uncomfortable silence. His mother dare not ask about her boy’s leglessness. His father still felt thwarted. Ray felt the tension and worked his way down from the kitchen chair as soon as possible.

            – I have some pudding, Ray.

            – It’s alright. I’m full.

He walked back to the sitting room on his knees and switched on the television set. Nationwide would begin soon and that was usually quite interesting. June and Albert Martin washed up, the bread pudding untouched on the counter. June rinsed her hands and stared at Albert. She left the kitchen and joined her legless son on the sofa.

            – It’s lovely to have you home, dear.

Ray had sensed the tension between his parents and was not impressed by the way they had tried to withhold their animosity at the supper table.

            – Mum, I hope you wont be upset or angry but Robert has told me that there is a free room in the flat he rents in Acton and he said I can move in there if I want to. I don’t think you and dad like each other very much any more. It makes me feel sick. So if I moved to Acton, I hope you won’t be angry. Robert can teach me everything about my new legs and I can start to become independent. That would be good, wouldn’t it.? A fledgling flying the nest.

            – Oh, Ray! You’re still so young.

            – But you and dad hate each other and I don’t want to be here with you.

            – How dare you say such a thing!

She burst into tears.

            – Go then! Let’s see if Robert can take care of a legless boy.

She sniffled for the rest of the evening. Her husband sat opposite her despising her, watching an edition of Panorama about corruption in the conservative government and at nine thirty Ray slid off the sofa, wished them good night and worked his way upstairs on his knees to his bedroom and oblivion. How was he going to get word to Robert that he was ready to move? He could send a postcard, if his mum had any. Please rescue me! His mum wouldn’t even post it for him. He would have to go to Southall signal box and find out when Robert was on shift and ask him face to face.

 

He descended the stairs backwards and stumped into the kitchen to have breakfast. His mum lifted him onto a chair. He was so light, she thought.

            – What would you like, dear? A nice cuppa and some Corn Flakes, I expect. What did they give you for breakfast in the hospital?

            – A couple of sandwiches with ham and cheese or some porridge. And a glass of milk.

            – Would you like a glass of milk now, dear? I’m sure I can order some more off the milkman if you want to have some with your breakfast.

            – No, it’s alright, mum. I don’t want more milk. I don’t really like it very much anyway. It’s just that if you didn’t eat what you were given, you didn’t get anything else.

            – What a shame. But you’re home now and I want you to have what you want to eat, dear.

            – Mum, have you got any postcards handy? And a stamp? I want to write to Robert and I don’t know how else to get in touch with him.

            – Well, I’ll see if there are any in the drawer, dear. I might have a halfpenny stamp for a postcard in my purse.

She rummaged through her drawer but found no postcards.

            – I’m sorry, love, I haven’t got any postcards or stamps.

            – Oh well, I’ll just have to go to the box and see if Robert is there or leave him a message.

            – Oh, dear! Are you going to do all that journey on your peg leg, Ray?

            – This is how I am now, mum. I can get around with my peg leg. I know you hate to see it but it’s my leg now and I like it.

Mr Marin burst into tears.

            – I hate to see you this way, Ray.

            – I know, mum. That’s why I have to move out and live with Robert. I don’t want to be here when you and dad are so angry at each other all the time. And Robert will be able to help me when I get my legs. Then I can come and see you. Don’t worry, mum. It’s going to be alright.

He lowered himself from the kitchen chair onto his knees and waddled back to the sitting room where he had left his peg leg and crutches. He pulled on his peg, making sure his crutches were within reach, twisted himself around and pushed himself up with his arms. He shifted one arm and picked up one crutch. He used it to force himself erect and grabbed the second crutch.

            – I’m going out, mum. I’ll be back for lunch.

He strutted toward the front door and opened it. He stepped over the jamb and swung himself forward to the end of the garden path and onto the road leading up to the Uxbridge Road. He still had a few shillings in his wallet. That would be enough for a little while. He had trouble getting onto the bus until the conductor came back from inside the bus to the platform and took his crutches. Ray was able then to pull himself up and onto the seat immediately beside the entrance. His peg stuck out blocking the passageway.

            – You can’t sit like that, son. You’ll have to either move or stand somehow.

            – I could put my peg along that seat if the people don’t mind moving a bit.

            – Did you hear, ladies and gentlemen? The boy can sit here if you move.

Four passengers rose and Ray shifted himself and his crutches across to the four seater and settled his peg between the seat and the back. The two women sat down again, taking care that their buttocks did not impinge on the peg leg. The two men moved further down the bus and stood. Ray held on to his crutches and let his empty trouser leg hang over the edge of the seat. The men got off at the Grapes and one of them smiled and winked at Ray.

 

Southall Town Hall was approaching and he had to ask the ladies to excuse him but he needed to get off at the next stop. They stood up and Ray moved his peg and angled his way onto it. He used the trolley’s fittings to pull himself upright and positioned the crutches under his arms one by one. He moved two paces and then had to negotiate the step down to the back platform. Holding onto the fittings, he transferred the left crutch to his right, put the tips on the platform and stepped down with his peg. The bus stopped and Ray repeated the process – crutches down first, hold on to a railing and get the peg down. Crutches quickly back under each arm. He managed it this time. It was tough going wearing a peg leg on the trolley. Other passengers craned their necks to see the disabled youngster, not knowing they were watching him disembark for the first time without help.

 

Ray stood for a moment and repositioned his crutches. His peg felt secure and he moved away from the bus stop, crossed over and pegged along South Road. He worked up a good rhythm until the road started to rise as it reached the railway bridge. Ray slowed and crossed over to reach the side road which led to the signal box. He wondered if Robert might be working. He had not seen any of the rotas for many weeks. Ed would be there. He always worked the same times. Crutches, peg, crutches, peg. It was fine once you found the rhythm. What would it feel like with wooden legs? Soon he would find out. He would be strolling along smoking the big billiard Robert had given him clenched in his jaw. The signal box was visible in the distance and Ray found new stamina. He reached the door and knocked. Ed opened it and nearly dropped his tea in surprise.

            – Look at you! What are you doing here, Ray? Come in, come in. Can you manage?

Ray arranged his crutches, held onto the door frame and lifted his peg inside.

            – I thought I might come and say hello. How are you?

            – Never mind how I am. Same creaky joints and old man’s troubles. How are you, that’s the main thing. I see you have a peg leg, my boy. How are you finding it?

            – It’s a very good way to walk, Ed. I feel very safe standing on it. It holds me very well.

            – Well, that’s good to hear. I expect you have really come to see Robert, haven’t you? He talks about you all the time. Lets us know your news and how you’re doing. Well look, Raymond, I shan’t ask you to come upstairs under the current circumstances but I can ask Robert to come down when he has a moment.

            – Is Robert here now?

            – Yes, he’s been working mornings this week. Shall I go and fetch him? I can tell him you’re here.

            – Yes please, Ed.

Ray stood resting on his crutches while he listened to the sounds from upstairs. The metallic slams of levers being pulled, the bells ringing out their own language of railwayman’s talk. Soon he would be upstairs again learning new things and doing the work himself on his new wooden legs. Uneven steps sounded on the wooden stairs. Robert was coming, one step at a time.

            – Hi Ray! Look at you! All kitted out with a peg leg and everything! How are you? It’s good to see you up and about.

            – I’m fine. I’ve been casted for new legs so they let me come home yesterday. I don’t know how long it will take to get them, though.

            – About three weeks, I should think.

            – Robert, it’s horrible being at home. My parents are really angry at each other and I don’t like to be there with them. My mum is usually nice but she’s so on edge I don’t feel good with either of them. So I was wondering, if what you said about a room…

            – You’d like to move into my spare room? Of course you can. You’re more than welcome. When do you want to move?

            – Right now! Well, I have to go and collect my clothes first, of course.

            – Ray, how are you going to carry a suitcase full of clothes?

            – Oh yeah. I forgot.

            – Never mind. I’ll carry a suitcase if it doesn’t weigh too much. Pack the things you need for every day. If you have a suit or a bathing costume, you can leave those out and we’ll get them later.

            – Yes, I know the sort of things to bring. Do I need sheets and pillows?

            – Good question. I have two pairs of sheets and we could put a pillowslip on a cushion, couldn’t we? I’ve got an old army blanket somewhere too,. You could have that. It might have a couple of holes in it but it’s clean.

            – I’m sure it will be fine. So if I go home now and pack my things, will you come and pick me up after work? Then we can catch the trolleybus to your place.

            – Yes, I’ll come and collect you. It’s Friday and I’m not working tomorrow so we have at least half the weekend to get sorted out. Now I should get back to work upstairs and you have go home to pack. I expect I’ll see you just before six this evening.

            – Thank you, Robert. Will you open the door for me?

Robert stood watching his legless new flatmate crutching away from him and felt something close to orgasm. A nice-looking, clever kid with fantastic stumps who already looked up to him like a father figure was going to live with him. It was wizard!

 

Ray pegged his way back to Southall Broadway and climbed onto a bus. He was getting really tired and his ribs were aching where the crutches rested. Maybe he’d walked too far for one day. Was this what it meant to be disabled? Not being able to do the things you wanted to do? He supposed it was. What would he not be able to do when he had his wooden legs? He could not imagine anything. He would have to take his legs off to swim, obviously, but everything else should be alright. And how often did he need to swim?

 

The conductress held his crutches as he held onto the enamel pole at the back of the trolley to let himself down on to the pavement and handed them to him one by one.

            – Thank you!

            – Don’t mention it, love. See you again.

She rang the bell twice and one of the last trolleybuses to travel up to Shepherds Bush pulled silently away from the stop. Notices on the buses and bus stops announced that trolleybuses would be withdrawn from service the very next day, Saturday, to be replaced by diesel buses called Routemasters. They were the future. Even the route number was changing to two-o-seven.

 

Ray pegged to his home feeling fairly exhausted. His ribs were sore. He had walked about a mile, he thought, and that was a quite a way on one peg leg. He let himself in with his key and called out to his mum.

            – Hallo! Anyone home?

June Martin opened her kitchen door and saw the silhouette of her legless son standing on a peg leg and crutches. It was a shocking sight for her and would forever be so, she suspected.

            – Hello dear. Did you see your friend?

Ray crutched towards her and kissed her cheek.

            – Yes, I saw him. I didn’t know if he was going to be there or not. Mum, there’s something I have to tell you. Robert has offered me his spare room in Acton. And I want to move there this weekend. Robert said he will come tonight to collect me and carry the suitcase if you’ll let me borrow it. I’ll take some clothes with me and move in. I don’t like being here any more, mum. The way you and dad are always angry at each other.

June Martin sat down at her kitchen table and put her head in her hands. She sobbed.

            – Don’t cry, mum. It’s all for the best. You and dad can sort things out, Robert will teach me how to use my new legs and we can be together again after that.

            – Oh Ray, you are such an innocent. You won’t ever come back to live. I just know it.

            – Well, even so, I’ll come to visit when I have some free time from work. It’s only a bus ride, after all. Here to Acton. Did you know we’re getting new buses tomorrow?

            – You are such a dear. I can’t bear to think of you being somewhere else. But you’re a big boy now, sixteen next month. Soon you’ll be a man. I suppose it might be a good idea to have Robert helping you. Your father will be no help, that’s for sure. Oh Ray, I’m so sorry to see you go. But I will help you. Shall we find the suitcase and I’ll pack you some clothes.

            – I don’t need my swimsuit, mum.

            – No dear. I will pack your black football shorts though. You might find them handy.

June Martin packed two pairs of trousers, three white shirts, two hand-knitted pullovers, underwear and half a dozen pairs of socks. She looked at the socks and took five pairs out. She carried the case downstairs and left it by the front door.

            – What time is Robert coming to collect you, dear?

            – His shift finishes at five so about six o’clock.

            – I hope your father is here by then. He’ll want to have a word with Robert, I’m sure. Meet him and ask him about a few things. Now dear, shall we have a cup of tea?

 

Arthur Martin arrived home at ten past six. He slammed the front door to announce his arrival to his wife and went directly into the sitting room and switched the television set on. As it was warming up, Ray came in.

            – Hello dad. I’ve got something to talk to you about. I hope you won’t get angry but I am moving out tonight. My suitcase is already packed. My friend from work offered me his spare room and he’s coming soon to collect me.

            – I’m not angry, son. It’s about time you thought about finding your own place to live now you’re working. Well, you know what I mean. Who is this friend?

            – His name is Robert Turner and he has a wooden leg and he works at the signalbox and he says he will help me learn to use my new legs.

            – And how old is he?

            – I don’t really know. He’s not very old. But he’ll be here soon and you can ask him.

            – Yes, son. I will have a few things to ask him.

A picture suddenly appeared on the television screen, the last few moments of a weather forecast. Arthur turned away from Ray and settled himself deeper into his chair.

            – Go and ask your mother what time tea is, son.

June Martin rapped on the wall with the end of a knife. It was the signal that tea was ready.

            – Sounds like it’s ready now.

They went into the kitchen and Arthur lifted Ray onto a kitchen chair. His mother had prepared pork chops, beans and mash with onion gravy. It was tasty but no-one enjoyed the meal. Ray thanked his mother for a nice tea. Arthur limped back to the sitting room and June was just boiling a kettle to wash up the dishes when there was a knock on the front door. She dried her hands quickly on a tea towel and opened the door.

            – Robert! Come in, do.

            – Hello Mrs Martin. I’m sure you know why I’m here.

            – Yes, I do. I’m very sorry to see Ray move out but I think he will be safe with you, won’t he?

            – Of course he will. Is your husband home?

            –Yes he is. We’ve just had our tea. He’s in the sitting room. Come with me.

She went in and announced that Robert Turner had arrived and would like to meet Ray’s father.

            –Well, ask the man in, woman!

            – Would you like to go in, Robert? I’ll leave you in peace.

She returned to the kitchen where Ray was straining to hear what was being said.

            – They’re having a bit of a chat now. I hope your father can keep a civil tongue.

She busied herself with the washing up.

 

            – Mr Turner, isn’t it?

            – Robert, please.

            – Robert. I hear you have offered a spare room in your flat to Raymond. I’d like to hear more about it, if you don’t mind.

            – Well let’s see. It’s in Acton Vale. It’s a Victorian house and I live on the ground floor in what used to be the servant’s quarters. My flat is in two separate parts. There’s a kitchen and sitting room and further down the common hallway, there’s what used to be some kind of day room, I think they called it. I hardly ever go in there. It has a sofa and a piano in it. Ray can sleep on the sofa, and being legless, it’ll be quite long enough for him.

            – That sounds like a good enough room. What about a kitchen and toilet?

            – Well, if Ray wants to cook any food he has to come into my part where the kitchen is and also if he needs the toilet, he has to pass through my room to get to it. I have an outside loo, you see. It’s in a lean-to attached to the house. A bit nippy in the winter but hey-ho.

            – Hey-ho indeed. How much is the rent?

            – Thirty-five shillings a week.

            – And you can afford that?

            – Oh yes, sir. Signalmen get good wages. And with two of us, we can split the rent, of course.

            – Yes, I can see the sense in it. I hear you are an amputee.

Robert lifted his trouser leg to expose his wooden leg.

            – Since nineteen forty-three. Bombing raid on Haringey. Shrapnel sliced my leg off. I was only six years old.

            – Oh, so you must be used to it by now. My damned leg still bothers me.

He exposed his own aluminium shin.

            – My stump is about half my thigh so I wear a belt. Yours is below the knee, I believe.

            – Yes, but I have a thigh corset. I could have a leather strap around my knee with a newer style of leg and not bother with the corset but I prefer a wooden leg.

            – Ray keeps talking about getting wooden legs. Surely there are more up-to-date alternatives now he would do better on?

            – It’s all a matter of personal preference though, isn’t it? You’re used to your lightweight aluminium leg and I like the heft of my wooden leg. I’m sure it helps at work, heaving the signal levers and so on. Ray has plenty of time to find out what he’s most comfortable with but he wants a pair of wooden legs to start with and I’ll be able to teach him how to use them.

            – Well, Robert. Thank you for coming. This has been interesting. It’s a shame to see Ray go but I’m glad he’ll be in good hands and I hope you find it an agreeable arrangement. I would like to see Ray at least once a week. Perhaps we could have Sunday dinner together every week. I’ll ask my wife. June! June!

            – Oh dear. What does he want now?

            – June. How about inviting Ray and Robert for Sunday lunch every week? Is that alright with you? Sunday roast for four instead of three.

            – That would be lovely. And it would always be something to look forward to each week. So what have you decided, Arthur? Are you happy to let Ray go and live with Robert?

            – Very happy. Two amputees helping each other out. Very good idea. Any chance of a cuppa, dear?

She looked at her husband in astonishment and retreated to the kitchen.

            –They’re getting on like a house on fire. We’ll have a cup of tea and then I expect it’ll be time you were off.

She hugged Ray and kissed his hair.

            – I’m going to miss you but I’m happy you’ll be with your friend. Oh Ray, you’re growing up so fast.

 

They left some time after eight. Robert carried Ray’s suitcase and Ray crutched along beside him.

            – We’ll come back in the morning to fetch your wheelchair and any other bits we might have forgotten. Did you remember your toothbrush?

            – Yes, it’s in the case.

            – It’s nice we’re invited to Sunday dinner every week. That’s one thing I miss, having a proper roast. It’s a bit of a waste, going to all that trouble for just me.

            – What do you have for Sunday lunch?

            – Usually something like sausage and chips.

            – That’s alright, isn’t it?

            – Yeah, I suppose so but it’s such a strong tradition to have a roast with all the trimmings that anything less makes you feel like you’re missing something. We’re going to be to-ing and fro-ing all weekend, aren’t we? Tomorrow we’ll collect your wheelchair and Sunday we have dinner.

            – We could collect the wheelchair on Sunday.

            – Well, alright but you’ll be on your peg all day tomorrow.

            – It’s alright, Robert. I really like wearing it.

            – And I really like seeing you on it. It would be nice if you wore it sometimes after you get your legs. Oh, I just thought of something. You have to remember to tell British Railways and the hospital to turn all your post to my address. We can let the Post Office know, as well. I think we can do that in my local post office.

            – Yes, good idea. And I can get some postcards and stamps as well.

The trolley arrived and they shared its four-seater bench all the way to Acton Vale. They crossed the road and Ray entered his new home for the first time. There were three steps up to the front door which would have to be negotiated every day.

            – This is your room, Ray. It looks a bit desolate but we’ll soon brighten it up. And down here is my room.

More steps leading down. Ray carefully placed his crutch tips and followed through with his peg.

            – Lots of steps here.

            – Yes, there are. It’ll be easier for you with legs, don’t worry. Welcome to my flat, Ray!

There was a sofa and a book shelf with a few paperbacks, a coffee table with an African figurine on it and two mismatched easy chairs.

            – Sit down. You can take your peg off. You won’t need it again tonight. I’ll carry you if you need to go to the loo. You can get around alright on your knees, can’t you?

            – Yeah, it’s slow but sure.

            – You know, you can have a pair of boots made to hold your thighs and stumps to wear around here, at home. It will make it more comfortable to walk on your knees.

            – Do you mean stump boots? Dr Young at the hospital already mentioned them.

            – Really? Yes, stump boots would be very cool. I think you could wear stump boots at work too. They might be better than wooden legs for operating the levers. You could get more force behind them.

            – Shall I tell Dr Young that I’d like a pair of stump boots? He said my stumps would have to be recasted.

            – Yes, we’ll get on to him and ask him how to go about it. You would be walking around like you do now on your knees, except you’d be wearing big black boots, like two cylinders of leather.

            – That sounds really fun, Robert. I’d love a pair of black stump boots. And everyone who sees me will know I’m an amputee.

            – Yes they would. Is that an exciting thought for you?

            – Of course it is, Robert. You know I wanted a wooden leg after I met you. And at the last possible second, I thought Two!

            – Jesus Christ! It wasn’t an accident at all, was it?

It was as Robert had suspected.

            – No, of course not. It was so foggy no-one could see me so I thought I would take a chance and do it there and then.

            – That’s incredible, Ray. So instead of being the pitiful victim of a terrible accident, you are the winner of two leg stumps and the wooden legs you’ve always wanted.

            – Exactly! That’s alright, isn’t it? No-one else knows, and I don’t think you will tell anyone because I trust you.

            – No, I will never tell anyone. I can’t believe you did it because of me. But you did.

            – Robert, when we are at home, it would be nice if we showed each other our wooden legs. Shall we wear shorts and walk around showing our wooden legs?

            – Ha! Yes, we could do that. Imagine answering the front door wearing shorts and having a wooden leg or two showing! People would go crazy!

            – Will you take your trousers off now, Robert? I want to see your wooden leg.

Robert looked at Ray in surprise. Such a forward request! But the boy would see it sooner or later. He stood and let his trousers drop and stepped out of them.

            – There! How do you like that?

            – It goes up so far! I thought it was just on your lower leg part.

            – No, no. My stump comes down to about here, middle of my shin. I could have a leg which ties on around my knee but that would be no good for the work we do. So I have this corset and a brace which keeps my leg secure when I stand. See these metal struts? They come all the way up my thighs. These are the knee joints. Then I have this leather corset and I do the laces up every morning to hold the leg on tightly. You’ll have two of these, Ray. Tall thigh corsets with lots of leather and you’ll lace them really tight and your legs’ll stay on all day.

            – I didn’t know it would be so much bother.

            – Oh yes, my friend. It is a lot of bother. You have to keep everything clean, wash your stumps every night before bedtime, wash your stump socks every night and try to get them dry, and look at your stumps very carefully to see if there are any raw spots developing. It’s a lot of work but that’s the price of having beautiful wooden legs, Ray. It’ll be part of your daily life from now on, forever. Still, now we can take turns washing our stump socks. I just do them in the sink. You’d be surprised how sweaty they get and they can start to smell bad really quickly. Tonight I will wash the stump sock I was wearing yesterday, so I don’t need to take my leg off yet. And tomorrow I’ll wash the one I’m wearing. You have a stump sock under your peg, don’t you? We can wash that at the same time. You have more than one pair, don’t you? Yes, well, there you are. The life of a man with a wooden leg. Washing, washing, washing. But that’s enough of that. Did you bring your pipes?

            – They’re in my suitcase.

            – Shall we have a smoke?

            – That would be wizard but I don’t know how to fill a pipe yet.

            – Don’t worry about that. Are your pipes in your suitcase?

            – Yes.

            – I’ll fetch them. Just a minute.

Ray was excited at finally having the chance to smoke a pipe. His penis stiffened and he squirmed in his chair. Robert found the two pipes still in their boxes and the tin of Navy Cut Ed had bought him.

            – I see you are a Navy Cut man. That’s pretty strong tobacco, my friend. Would you like to try some of my Cavendish to start with?

            – Yes please. Can you show me how to fill my pipe?

            – Of course I can. Which one do you want to smoke first?

            – The one you gave me is very nice.

            – Alright. Pull out some tobacco like this, and rub it between your fingers to roughen it and the strands of tobacco come apart. Now you can start to fill your pipe with it. Make sure it’s level but don’t press it too hard.

Ray filled his first bowlful under Robert’s watchful gaze. Robert filled his own Oom Paul and struck a match.

            – Watch how I light it. Now I can tamp the burnt tobacco with my finger and light it again. It doesn’t usually burn properly straight off.

            – Don’t you burn your finger?

            – No. Just be quick about it.

He threw the matches at Ray.

            – Your turn. Make sure all the tobacco on the top is burning. That’s it.

Ray sucked on the big billiard and looked at the tobacco. It was red all over the top of the bowl. He put the pipe back in his mouth, held it and puffed.

            – There you are, Ray. Smoking a pipe at last.

Ray had an uncomfortable erection and rearranged it.

            – Does it give you an erection?

            – Yes. I suppose it means I like it.

            – It does indeed.

            – Robert, once I was thinking about smoking a pipe and my willy got stiff and then it spurted some stuff out. It often happens when I think about smoking a pipe or walking along the street with a pipe. My willy goes stiff. I’m used to that, but what is the white stuff which came out that time?

            – It’s semen. It’s perfectly natural, Ray. All men shoot it out when they are sexually excited.

            – Oh. I thought there was something wrong with me.

            – No, no. Did you notice how good it felt? When you rub your willy to make it shoot, it’s called masturbation. Have you heard of that?

            – I don’t think so.

            – Well, most men do it quite often because they like the way it feels. So it’s alright to do it. I do it sometimes too.

            – Alright. I think I understand it now.

            – Good. How’s your pipe? Is it still alight? You don’t need to smoke all the tobacco in one go. Put it down if you’ve had enough for a little while. Some people say a relit pipe smokes better. We’ll have to get you a tamper when we go to the tobacconist’s. You can tamp the tobacco down with it or scrape the old tobacco out. It’s quite useful.

            – Yes. I’m scared of burning my fingers.

Robert looked at Ray’s stumps and indicated them with the stem of his pipe.

            – Ray, I was thinking about your stump boots. We should let the limb maker at the hospital know that you’d like a pair and he can book you an appointment. We could telephone the hospital to ask first. Or shall we wait until you collect your wooden legs? We can order the boots then. Probably have to go back again a different day for the casting but you’ve got plenty of time. It’s not a good idea for you to walk around on your bare knees.

            – I could put some thick socks on, couldn’t I? I’m sure mum would give me a few pairs tomorrow. Are we collecting the wheelchair tomorrow?

            – Yes, I think we should. We’ll buy some thick socks if your mum can’t find any. You should ask her to make you some stump sleeves too to wear under the thigh corsets.

            – Have you got a stump sleeve on now?

            – Yes, I’m wearing two. And under them I have a cotton stump sock. I change the stump sock every day but the sleeves last a week between washes. I should actually get some more. I wonder if your mum could knit me some if I bought the wool?

            – I expect so. We’ll ask her tomorrow. Robert, I need a wee.

            – Oh, alright. I had better carry you, hadn’t I, unless you want to put your peg leg on again.

            – Will you carry me?

            – I should put my trousers on, shouldn’t I? No, it’s dark out. No-one will see. He opened the door and picked Ray up.

            – Put your arms around my neck and hold on.

Robert walked carefully out the door, down one step and five paces to a ramshackle lean-to. The door was held on by only one hinge. Inside was a high ornate Victorian toilet bowl with an iron cistern above it.

            – I’m going to put you on the seat. Can you manage then? It’ll be cold, I’m afraid.

            – Can you pull my trousers and pants down for me? It’s hard to wriggle out of them.

            – Yes, I suppose so. Undo your belt and open the fly.

Robert tugged on the empty trouser legs and pulled them down to Ray’s knees. Ray managed to push his briefs down and relieved himself.

            – Ready.

            – Right. Can you pull your trousers up? Good show. And off we go. Grab on!

            – Thank you for helping me, Robert.

            – It’s alright. I knew exactly what inviting you here would mean. There are lots of little things we amputees need help with sometimes. You will be able to help me too, very soon. We’ll be a good team, which smokes pipes and wears wooden legs.

            – I love the idea of that.

Robert lowered Ray back into an armchair.

            – Are you hungry? I’m afraid there’s only cheese and tomato sandwiches with a cup of tea.

            – That’s fine. I’m not especially hungry.

Robert stepped down into the old scullery. The top of a cupboard doubled as a work surface. He filled a kettle and turned the ancient gas cooker on. Five minutes later, he brought a plate of four sandwiches, a pot of tea and two stoneware mugs.

            – Do you have a radio, Robert?

            – I do but the tube is burnt out. I might buy a new one soon now that we’ll be sharing the rent.

            – How much will it be, Robert?

            – Well, it’s thirty-five shillings a week. Do you think it’s fair if I pay a pound and you pay fifteen bob?

            – Yes, that sounds very generous. But I won’t get a pay packet for weeks and weeks. And I ought to pay you for food too. You shouldn’t have to pay for that.

            – You’ll have to talk to your mum and dad about it, Ray. Ask them if they can let you have an allowance for food for a few weeks until you’re working. You can promise to pay them back, if you like. Don’t worry about the rent just yet.

 

After eating, Robert suggested they get Ray’s bed ready. Robert found a couple of sheets and the old army blanket. Folding it in half lengthways made it an appropriate size for Ray without his legs, making it as good as two blankets. The room was cold and the piano emitted a distinctive smell, not unpleasant.

            – Well, the sofa’s ready. Now we need to do some washing. There’s still some warm water in the kettle. Let me have your stump sock and I’ll wash it now with mine.

They returned to Robert’s room and Robert threw the laundry into a bucket and added a little detergent. He squeezed the cotton fabric in the suds, rinsed them under the cold water tap and hung them on a clothes hanger on a cupboard door.

            – See? It doesn’t take long but it has to be done. I’m going to wash my stump now.

He sat on a chair and loosened the laces on his thigh corset. He pushed the corset off his thigh and lifted his stump out of the wooden leg. He rolled the two thick woollen stump sleeves off, separated them and put them to one side. Lastly he rolled the cotton stump sock off his leg and hopped back to the kitchen with it. He washed it, rinsed it and it joined the others. He tipped the water away and took a facecloth from a cupboard. He washed his stump with cold water and patted it dry with a hand towel. He looked around to inspect his handiwork and hopped back to his room.

            – Do you always hop without your leg? Don’t you have any crutches?

            – Yes, they’re in the corner behind you. I don’t often use them. They’re really just for emergencies like if my leg breaks.

            – How would it break? What might go wrong with it?

            – Well, the hinge might get loose and break or a strut might split the leather. Then it has to go in for repair. I have to take mine to Roehampton, not Hillingdon.

Robert told Ray about Roehampton Hospital and its artificial limb centre. Ray asked questions about how they were made and the different types available. Robert answered as best he could. Finally both declared themselves tired and ready for bed. Ray lowered himself onto his knees and stumped along to his room. He undressed, placed his clothes on the piano stool and crawled naked between the freezing sheets.

 

Saturday morning. Robert woke just after six as he did every day and donned his leg before going for a pee in his dressing gown and shoes. He started a kettle for tea and ate a bowl of cereal. He had better get some supplies in before the day was out. Before that, they needed to return the suitcase and collect Ray’s wheelchair. It wouldn’t be very useful at home but Ray could use it outside. He could easily walk a few steps on his knees if necessary. Traffic noise outside the window woke Ray at twenty past six. He looked at his watch and groaned. So early! He wondered if he dared get up and go into Robert’s bit. He needed a pee. Maybe he should get a milk bottle or something to pee in during the night. He’d ask Ray for one. Ray lowered himself to the floor and stumped across to his suitcase to get clean underwear and a clean shirt. He would put his peg leg on after breakfast. He thought he could hear Robert’s irregular footfalls and pulled his door open to listen. Yes, Robert was up. Ray worked his way down the steps and knocked on the door before pushing it open.

            – Good morning, Ray. Did you sleep alright?

            – Good morning. Yes, once I got to sleep. I’m not used to the sound of traffic being right outside. That’s what woke me up.

            – You’ll soon get used to it, don’t worry. So! Breakfast? There’s cereal or you could have toast and peanut butter.

            – Cereal is fine. And a cup of tea.

            – I’ve just brewed some. I’ll get it for you, stay there.

            – Robert, where can I hang up my clothes?

            – Hmm. I don’t know really. I fold all mine and put them in that chest of drawers. I could make space in there for your few bits but I suppose we’ll have to get a wardrobe sort of thing before long. What else do you need? A table and a couple of chairs, I suppose. And it would be good if you had a proper bed instead of that old sofa. Was it alright to sleep on?

            – Yes but it’s a bit narrow.

            – Let’s talk about this with your parents. Maybe we could arrange to have a removal van bring your bed and other things from home.

            – Good idea. Are we going there today?

            – Yes, I think we had better get your wheelchair. I don’t like you being on your knees when you’re not wearing your peg.

 

Robert washed the breakfast things and they took turned to wash in the kitchen. They dressed and Ray donned a stump sock before bending his trousered leg onto the peg and securing its belts. Robert helped him stand and handed him his crutches.

            – All set and ready. I need a smoke. How about you?

            – No thanks. Not yet.

Robert tipped some ash out of his Oom Paul, dropped in a few shreds of fresh tobacco and fired it up. The sweet aroma of Cavendish tobacco filled the room and Ray watched Robert moving about with the long bent pipe clenched in his teeth. He felt the stirrings of his second erection of the day.

 

            – What would be a good time to visit Hayes End? Do your parents usually go out on a Saturday?

            – No, they’ll be at home, unless mum has gone to the shops. But she won’t be long. Dad will be there.

            – Alright, shall we get going? Let me get the suitcase and we’ll be ready.

Ray stood in the hallway waiting for Robert to open the heavy front door. Robert held Ray’s upper arm tightly as he negotiated the three steps outside in case he tripped. The bus stop was about ten yards from the front door. Ray suddenly noticed that there were no trolleybuses anywhere. New Routemasters had supplanted them overnight. There was one coming now. Two-o-seven. Robert hailed it and helped Ray up onto the platform. The conductress waited until Ray was seated in his customary place and signalled the driver to continue. She took the empty suitcase and put in the luggage cubbyhole.

            – You believe in travelling light!

            – We have to return it. It’s only borrowed. Two to Hayes End, please.

            – One and tuppence, love.

The new bus looked and felt quite different from the trolleys. It was wider but shorter, the seats and paintwork different and the engine was anything but silent. It did not seem to be an improvement. Robert sat opposite Ray and wondered what was going through the boy’s head. So many changes had happened to him so quickly with more on the way.

 

June and Arthur Marin were both at home and pleased to see Ray so soon. They asked him how he had slept, what he had eaten, how he liked it. Ray asked if it might be possible to borrow some money for food until he was getting his wages. Arthur handed him two pounds with a wink. They brought up the issue of socks. Thick thigh socks. And if there were any pairs of thick woolly winter socks, Ray would be able to put them on his legs to protect his knees. June was pleased to be able to help out and fetched her tape measure. She handed it to Ray and asked him to tell her what size. Robert pointed out that they could be open at both ends, like a tube.

            – I have lots of bits of left-over wool I could use up. I don’t suppose the colour matters, does it? Robert, would you like a pair too?

            – That’s very kind of you, Mrs Martin. Thank you. Yes, I would be very grateful.

She went to find some of her husband’s winter socks.

Arthur spoke up and asked what Ray wanted to do with his bed and the other furniture in his room.

            – Well, it would be good if we could get a removal van and take some things. I need a set of drawers and my bed would be nice.

            – I’ll ask George at work if he could help out. His son has a greengrocer’s van and he might be willing to lend it to us. Leave it with me, Ray. I’ll see what can be sorted out.

June Martin found more things which might be useful. She packed a canvas shopping bag with two sets of sheets and pillow cases, and a couple of mugs into which she stuffed a packet of tea. Ray and Robert sat in the kitchen and the foursome enjoyed elevenses together, tea and biscuits. Ray was relieved to see his parents being civil with each other.

            – Thank you for everything, We should be off. We have a lot to do today. Have to go shopping, for a start. Ray, do you want to sit in the wheelchair?

            – No, I’m alright on my peg. We’ll see you tomorrow for lunch. What time would you like us here, mum?

            – Come at noon, dear.

Ray kissed his mum and said good bye to his father. He could not shake hands. Robert put the shopping bag on the wheelchair’s seat and the amputees made their way back to the bus stop.

 

Robert asked Ray what he wanted to eat for supper and made a short list of provisions. Milk, tea, bread, beans. Cereal. Sausages. That would have to do. Ray handed over the two pounds his father had given him. On the way back from the grocer, Robert stopped at the tobacconist’s and bought a pipe tool for Ray. He would no longer need to risk burning his fingers tamping his pipe.

            – Thank you very much! What shall we do this evening, Robert? Can we go to the cinema?

            – You’ll have to be in your chair for that, Ray. You won’t be able to sit in the cinema wearing a peg leg.

            – No, I suppose not. I don’t really want to be in the wheelchair though.

            – Next week, when I’m at work – I’ve got the seven to three shift all week – I think it would be a good idea if you would practise using your chair, Ray. You could try negotiating the step out to the garden, for example. Take it easy. I can show you a couple of tricks, if you like.

Robert cleared the armchairs out of the way to make some space and sat in the wheelchair. He found its centre of balance and lifted the casters off the floor and balanced on the driving wheels.

            – Oh! That’s clever!

            – You need to be able to raise the front wheels when you go up a curb, for example. Or if you go down steps like outside the front door. Balance on the two back wheels and let yourself drop down step by step. That’s the sort of thing which it’s good to master.

            – Yes, I can see that. It would make being in a wheelchair much more fun. Alright, I’ll practise that when you’re at work. Can I look at your books as well? It would be nice to read something to pass the time.

            – Of course you can. There are some good stories there, some of the paperbacks. Help yourself. What shall we do about meals? Can you get by with sandwiches at midday? I can cook us something warm for supper. Is that alright?

            – Yes, I can get by with a couple of sandwiches.

            – You can make yourself some tea as well. Everything is in the larder. You know how to use a gas cooker, don’t you?

            – Yeah. I used to make tea for mum and dad sometimes.

            – That’s good. Shall we take them a little present tomorrow at dinnertime? I thought I might buy them a bottle of wine. Do you think they would like that?

Ray had never seen either of his parents drinking wine nor tasted it himself.

            – I don’t know. Is it very expensive?

            – Well, it can be. It depends what sort you buy. I don’t expect it will be very dear.

 

They stayed in that evening. Ray took his peg leg off and changed into the football shorts his mum had packed. He tried his father’s winter socks on, a pair on each stump. It was much more comfortable to stump around with the socks on. Robert did not change his trousers but rolled the left trouser leg up to his thigh to expose his wooden leg for Ray to look at. They smoked their pipes and Ray discovered how useful the pipe tool was. He practised holding the pipe between his teeth instead of in his hand. Robert told Ray a few anecdotes about being a schoolboy with a short peg leg and the silly things people had said to him. Robert noticed how almost every conversation with Ray returned to the same theme. He thought it was odd at first but had begun to find it endearing. The topic of his disability had been taboo amongst his family members and his adult friends never mentioned it. Suddenly he had a companion who was not only interested in it, he had had his own legs severed for his own reasons. Was it love? Lust? Envy? Yes, Ray had been envious. There was no emotional aspect.

 

Ray insisted on washing their stump stocks in the zinc bucket but Robert had to rinse them and hang them to dry because Ray could not reach the sink. And so to bed.

 

Robert inspected Ray’s stumps after breakfast. His knees, especially the right, were showing signs of wear and tear and Robert insisted no more peg leg for a few days. He rubbed some Nivea onto the stumps. Ray was surprised. His mum used it to rub into her hands. They left for Hayes End at eleven, Ray wheeling himself and Robert striding along beside him carrying the canvas bag lent the previous day. They stopped at an off-licence and Ray waited outside while Robert selected a bottle of French rouge and they continued along the Vale to the next bus stop. A bus arrived. Robert carried Ray to a seat next to the platform and the conductress made space in the luggage alcove for his folded chair. At the Hayes End stop, Ray held on to a fitting and swung himself down onto the platform. Robert took the chair from the conductress, pulled it into shape on the pavement and pushed the seat against the edge of the platform. Ray swung his backside into the seat and called his thanks to the conductress.

 

The Martins were delighted to welcome the boys back. They had had a long and serious conversation the previous evening about their own fractious relationship and the necessity of upholding a united front for the benefit of their son who had worries of his own and ought not be burdened with his parents’ troubles. They both called a truce and actually cuddled in bed that evening for the first time in years.

 

It made a clear difference. There were no hard stares, no cutting remarks, no awkward silences. Arthur offered to help his wife in the kitchen. She called him dear in reply. Robert offered the bottle of wine to Arthur who seemed not to know what it was. They had never had wine with Sunday lunch before and certainly owned no wine glasses.

            – June? Have we got a corkscrew?

            – I think there’s one in the kitchen drawer. Why, dear?

            – Robert’s brought us a bottle of wine.

            – How lovely!

The roast beef was tender and the Yorkshires were crisp. They toasted each other with a drop of wine served in tumblers. It was a very nice meal, declared June. Arthur washed and Robert dried. June sat with her son and asked how he was doing.

            – It’s very nice, mum. I can get around on my knees and those socks you found yesterday are very good. But Robert wants me to learn more about using the wheelchair so that’s what I’ll be doing next week. I wish they would hurry up with my new legs.

            – Yes, so do I, love.

            – Robert also said I should get a pair of stump boots.

            – Oh dear. I do hate hearing that word, Ray.

            – What, stump? Well, they’re like tall leather boots except they go on my thighs and I put the end of my legs into the end, backwards. Then there’s a rubber sole and I will be able to operate the big signal levers at work instead of having my wooden legs on.

            – Well, I hope you can soon get a new pair of boots in that case, dear. Oh, before I forget – I went to the Post Office yesterday and asked them to deliver all your letters to your new address. So if the hospital writes to say you have an appointment, you won’t need to wait until the next Sunday until you know. Is that alright?

            – Yes, mum. It’s very alright. It saves me doing it. Are you still sad about me losing my legs, mum? I’m not sad about it. You know that, don’t you?

            – Yes, Ray. I am sad. I wonder how it will affect your life when you get a bit bigger and want to go dancing or keeping up with your friends. I know the sorts of things young men like to do and I’m just worried that you’re going to miss out on so much.

            – Don’t worry, mum. I’m sure I will be able to do almost everything with my wooden legs.

            – Oh, Ray!

 

The washing up was done and Robert and Arthur joined their partners in the sitting room. They listened to the last half hour of Family Favourites on the BBC, ending with Tshaikovsky like every week and the beginning of the Clitheroe Kid show. It was repetitive, the same thing every week and no-one could really understand what they were trying to say, so Arthur turned the set off and chatted to Robert about his work. He had no clear idea about what Ray was training to do and he wanted to know how Robert managed it with a wooden leg and what he thought about Ray’s chances of being able to do it too. June was amazed at her husband, how well he was getting on with the young man whom she didn’t mind admitting, had doubted very much the first time she had met him. She took out her knitting and held up a ball of bluish wool.

            – Ray, is this alright for your thigh sock tubes? I could put some stripes in it, if you like, like on football socks.

            – That would be lovely, mum. Thank you.

            – It’s nice to be able to help out. It’s been terrible to feel so alone and cut off. Oh dear, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry! I don’t know where I am these days.

            – Don’t fret yourself, June. I’ll always be here for you.

June dropped her hands into her lap and stared open-mouthed at her husband who had never said anything like it before as long as she had known him. Even Ray was surprised. Like Robert the previous evening, Arthur was finding huge psychological relief in being able to talk openly about his amputation with someone who knew what he was talking about. He liked the young man for his openness and generosity in taking care of his son and suddenly realised that he could be much closer to his son now that they both shared something in common. He hoped Ray would realise it too and they could have a better relationship. It was an extraordinary afternoon and even Robert began to feel that these people were part of his own circle instead of being squares he had to deal with.

 

They left just before six and promised to meet again next Sunday at the very latest. Ray wheeled himself and tried a couple of times to negotiate curbs with Robert standing behind him. The second attempt succeeded and Ray was elated.

 

Robert left the flat several times during the following week without seeing Ray. Ray tried out the piano, made tea, started reading On The Beach, kneeled along to the toilet a couple of times and sat wondering how it would feel to have wooden legs strapped to his thighs. Robert was back just before five each day and told Ray about everything that had been going on at the Southall box. Which trains have come through, which engines needed reversing onto anther line, what the other signalmen had done during the weekend and evenings. Ray felt he was still part of the community of men he had met so briefly.

 

On Thursday, the postman arrived and knocked once. That was the code for the ground floor flat. Rob and Ray had some post. Ray climbed down from his wheelchair and stumped up the steps and along to the front door. A long brown envelope printed with the words Hillingdon Hospital lay on the doormat. If Ray could have jumped, he would have done so. At last! His wooden legs were ready. He ripped the envelope open and read its contents. Yes, he had an appointment on Saturday at eleven, in two day’s time for the first fitting of his leg prostheses.

 

Robert was excited for him. At last the boy would be standing tall again, perhaps with walking sticks or even on crutches. But he would be up and mobile and not so reliant on himself for journeys to the toilet or to wash himself in the sink. Robert did not mind helping but Ray should learn to do such things for himself. It was time he learned what wooden legs really were.

 

            – Will you come with me tomorrow, Robert?

            – Of course I will! You can’t just roll up in a wheelchair and walk out on wooden legs. You’ll need some practise first. And you can’t get on the bus by yourself in a wheelchair. So I’ll be with you and watching you on your new wooden legs for the very first time.

 

Saturday at nine thirty. Hillingdon Hospital.

            – Good morning! We have an appointment with Dr Young at ten o’clock. The patient’s name is Raymond Martin.

            – Ah yes. Please be seated and I will see if Dr Young is already available.

She telephoned to someone and three minutes later, Young pushed his way through the swing doors and approached the pair of amputees.

            – Young Mr Martin. I am delighted to see you again. Is this your guardian for today?        

            – How do you do, sir. I am Robert Turner. I am Raymond’s assistant for today.

            – How do you do. Excellent. Shall we go in?

Young held the doors open as Ray wheeled himself through and spun around to look at the other two.

            – Follow me, please.

They followed him to the end of the corridor and into his workshop.

 

            – Do take a seat. Mr Turner. Now Raymond, I want you to move your chair to the head of the bars. Wait a moment while I fetch your legs.

He went to a storeroom and pulled two prostheses off a shelf.

            – And here you are.

Ray looked at them with something approaching love. Young carried them like a cherished infant. The wooden lower legs glowed under their varnished surface and the smooth, mid tan finish to the leather on the thigh sockets was a joy to behold. Mirror polished steel struts linked the two halves. He stood them up, leaning against the parallel bars.

            – Oh! They have my shoes on them!

            – Yes. We took them off your legs as they were undamaged. We used them to judge the size for your wooden feet. You were a size nine and now you will have size nines again.

            – What happened to my legs, sir?

            – They were burned, Raymond. Incinerated. They were of no use to you or anybody else.

            – No, I suppose not.

            – I see you have stump socks on. I would like you to wear another thicker sock over your thigh so you can lace the sockets tight. But let us try these for size. Left leg first.

Young knelt and pushed a prosthetic leg onto Ray’s left thigh. He ensured the knee joint was in the correct position and that the stump was inserted into the wooden leg.

            – Here are some laces. We chose red for you. Thread them up the socket starting at the knee.

Ray knew how to thread laces and managed a zigzag pattern up to his groin. The sides of the socket were drawn closer and Ray pulled them tighter over the tongue.

            – If you had some thick stump socks on, you would be able to get a tighter fit.

            – My mum is knitting some woollen stump socks for me.

            – Is she indeed? Very kind of her. Exactly what you need. Now let’s try the right leg. Lift your stump up.

Young slid Ray’s right leg into position and handed him the other lace. Ray laced it through the twelve holes and pulled it tight.

            – How do your stumps feel?

            – It feels like they’re resting in a cup or something.

            – Are they comfortable? Not being pinched?

            – No, not at all.

            – Very good. Grab hold of the bars and pull yourself up.

Ray pulled himself upright to stand on wooden legs for the first time. He craned his neck to look down at himself.

            – So far, so good, young Raymond. Now, my boy. Let’s get you walking. Start with your right leg. Imagine you’re kicking backwards with your thigh and then swinging your leg forwards. The backward motion gets the wooden leg into position. I want you to concentrate on getting the heel to strike the ground. If you do not do so, the knee will buckle. Kick back, swing forward and hit the ground with the heel. Do you understand?

            – Yes sir.

            – Very well. Hold the bars and try it with your right leg.

Ray kicked his leg back and felt the weight of the artificial appendage he had attached to his thigh. He kicked forward and the artificial leg swung to the front and the entire foot struck the floor.

            – Try again. You need to get the heel to strike the floor first.

Ray tried again.

            – Lean slightly to the left.

            That worked. Ray was standing with one prosthetic leg sticking out in front of him with the heel of his shoe on the floor.

            – Move your hands forward and kick your left leg forward. Lean slightly to the right. That’s right. Now repeat that all the way to the end of the bars. Turn around and come back. Always remember to make your heel strike the floor first. That is what makes the knee sturdy enough to support you. If it does not engage, your knee will collapse under you. Take another step. And the left leg.

            – This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.

            – All beginnings are difficult, Raymond. By this time next year you will be walking on wooden legs without anyone noticing anything amiss. For now, I want you to practise between the bars. Swing your legs and make sure your heel hits the floor. Do go on. Are your knees helping?

            – I don’t think so. It all seems to be coming from my hips.

            – That’s what I suspected. Your leg stumps are too short to control your prostheses. You will have to learn to control your legs with your thighs. You knees will play a very minor role. I am sorry, Raymond, but you are going to be more disabled than either of us feared. Stand up straight for a moment. Hold on to the bars and lift your right leg up off the floor. Now try to swing it forward with your knee.

Nothing happened. Ray’s knee was too weak and the length of his stump too short to move the wooden lower half of his prosthetic leg.

            – Walk up and down the bars, Ray, until you find the right rhythm.

Ray tried to thrust his thighs forward. The heels of his wooden feet clunked onto the floor and he pulled himself forward over them. Robert watched with concern on his face. He had not realised the difficulty Ray would face with two artificial legs. Being unable to use toes to lift a prosthesis high enough to swing was obviously a serious problem. Ray kicked his prostheses back and forth along the parallel bars in an unnatural and impractical fashion. After several halting trips up and down the bars, Ray discovered that by rocking his body slightly from side to side as he walked let him get the foot forward far enough for the heel to strike the floor. He was able to walk a little faster and found that the additional momentum helped. Presently he dared remove a hand from the parallel bar and walked along balancing on the legs. Young circled him, watching carefully, giving a word or two of guidance and advice. Robert could see obvious improvement since Ray’s initial steps. Ray reached the end of the bars, turned and took both hands off. He rocked to the end of the bars, flailing his arms to keep balance but succeeding in not needing support. He looked round at Robert and grinned.

            – Stand there for a moment, Raymond.

Young took out a collapsible yardstick and measured the distance from Ray’s wrist to the floor. He walked across to the storage room and found two plain walking sticks of a suitable length. He took them over and handed them to Ray.

            – Use the canes and walk out from the bars. Left cane and right foot forward, then right cane and left foot.

It was easy to use the walking sticks. They helped maintain momentum. Ray’s gait was still unnatural but more regular. It was quite obvious that he was wearing artificial legs.

            – How do you feel, Ray?

            – I think I’m getting the idea.

            – Raymond, I want you to sit down on this chair next, please. Hold your canes in one hand. Now use your other hand to push on the seat as you stand up. Give it a try.

Ray tried but fell back onto the chair. He tried again with the same result.

            – I don’t have any knee power. What do I do now?

            – Sit on the edge of the chair and stretch your right leg out so the knee is straight. Now use your hand to push yourself up and twist around to your left. You can then use the canes to push yourself the rest of the way. Try it! Leg straight, push up and turn.

It worked. Ray stood and leaned on his canes.

            – Sit down, Raymond, and try it again. Good! Do you think you can remember that or shall we practise some more?

            – I can remember.

            – Very well. Let’s try you on steps next. Come over here.

Ray rocked across to a corner of the room where a set of five steps led to a sloping surface.

            – I think stairs are going to be your biggest challenge, Raymond. You need to keep your leg straight to secure the knee and then pull yourself up. Try it. Lift your right leg onto the first step. Keep it straight. Remember the heel. Now use the bannister to pull and lift your left leg onto the step. You can push with a cane in the other hand. Good. Next step. Right leg, straight and left leg up. And again.

Ray reached the top slightly breathless.

            – That’s really hard!

            – Yes, it is. Now come down. You need to keep both legs straight so you need to spread your legs a little. Hold on to the bannister and use a cane in the other hand. You need to tilt your body to bring the left leg forward and down. One step at a time. Don’t try to go down any other way, Raymond. Your legs are not capable of it. Next step. Use your cane.

Back on the floor, he hung onto the canes and lowered his head.

            – That’s exhausting! Really hard work.

            – But you did very well, Raymond. Now you need to practise as much as possible. Use your canes.

            – Are you giving these to me?

            – Oh yes! I wouldn’t like to let you go off without them. Perhaps in a few weeks you will be able to get around with just one cane but I’d recommend that you always carry at least one.

            – Doctor, I just remembered! I wanted to ask you if I could have a pair of stump boots.

            – Yes, I forgot to mention it too. I put in an application for your boots a while back after we discussed them and it has been approved so we simply need to cast your legs and your boots will be on their way. Let me check to see when the next available time is. I think ninety minutes will be long enough. Thursday at two. Is that a suitable time for you?

            – Yes, I’m just at home for the time being. Do you have my new address?

            – Have you moved?

            – I moved out of my parents’ home.

            – I see. Give me your new address, please.

Young noted Ray’s new address.

            – I’ll have this noted and changed in your hospital records too. Now! If you are comfortable in your prostheses, you may leave with them and your new canes. I will see you again on Thursday, Raymond. Please bear in mind what I said – all beginnings are difficult. Have patience and don’t expect miracles just yet. Well, good bye Raymond, Mr Turner.

Ray turned himself around and rocked slowly and stiffly to the door. Robert opened it and the pair of them were gone.

 

            – How does it feel, Ray? Do you think you can manage to the bus stop? You can sit in the chair if you want.

            – I think I’ll be alright.

Ray was concentrating hard on what he was doing. Robert watched him position his rigid ankles and feet with each careful step, conscious of the fact that a misstep would cause the knee to buckle and could lead to a fall. Ray held on to the walking sticks with grim determination.

 

It took them forty minutes to cover the ten minute walk but Ray managed a smile at the bus stop.

            – Did it!

            – Well done, Ray. I can see it’s not easy. I know you’ve been saying that I can teach you to use your new legs but I’m beginning to have my doubts. Your situation is more than twice as bad as mine because I can still use my knee to walk with. My stump is quite long. But yours are too short to give any real control over your new legs. Your tendons and muscles are no longer secured to anything. You can bend your knees without your legs on but you can’t move your new legs with them. It’s not a problem when you’re wearing the peg leg.

            – I can feel that my bum and thighs are doing all the work. I know what I need after my stump boots.

            – What’s that?

            – A second peg leg! I’ll use two!

            – I don’t think they’ll give you another one, Ray.

            – Couldn’t we make one? Or have one made?

            – I suppose so, if we had the right tools. I haven’t got any, I’m afraid.

            – Maybe my dad has some in his shed.

            – Well, we can ask him tomorrow. I think if you wear your legs tomorrow, we’d better take your crutches with us instead of the walking sticks. I don’t mind carrying them if you don’t want to use them. I bet your mum and dad will be glad to see you standing tall again.

            – I expect so. Here comes the bus. How am I going to get on? If you hold my sticks I can pull myself up.

Robert took both walking sticks and asked the conductress to store the wheelchair in the luggage alcove. Ray grabbed on to the pole and kicked his right leg up onto the platform. He pulled himself up and brought his left leg alongside. One more step to get inside the bus. He managed to heave himself up and onto the three-seater. The conductress signalled the driver and the bus pulled away from the stop. Robert sat down next to Ray with two walking sticks between his legs.

            – Thank you for waiting. We’re a bit new at this.

            – I thought so. That stop is notorious for disabled passengers. Been to the hospital, I expect. Where to, love?

 

Getting off the bus in Acton Vale was a little easier. Ray grasped the seat fittings to pull himself erect and held on to them as he lowered himself to the platform and then the pavement. Robert handed him his walking sticks and they crossed the road, Robert holding onto Ray as they negotiated the kerbs. The three steps up to their front door posed the next barrier. There was no bannister or other railing to hold for support.

            – Try the rigid leg method with walking sticks, Ray. Put your rigid right leg onto the first step and turn to the left. Now use the sticks to push yourself up and bring the left leg up. Great! Next step. I think you’ve cracked it, Ray. One more. You’ve made it! Well done.

Robert walked up one step at a time and opened the door. Robert made some tea and both of them were unusually quiet as the unexpectedly greater extent of Ray’s disability began to sink in. Robert was certain Ray would never be able to operate the machinery at the signal box wearing his wooden legs. Ray had already arrived at the same conclusion.

            – When do you think I might be allowed to go back to work, Robert?

            – You only need to let Mr Lewis know. You could write him a letter to let him know when you’d like to come back and when he acknowledges, all well and good.

            – I think I might have to wait until I get my stump boots.

            – Oh? Why’s that?

            – I need to be able to pull the levers, don’t I? And I can’t force anything with these knees. If they bend when I’m standing, they just buckle. But with the stump boots, I’ll be able to pull with all my weight and get the levers into position.

            – You may well be right, Ray, but we won’t know for sure until you give it a try. Maybe we can work out a way you can handle the levers like we worked out how to go up the front steps just now. Anyway, I want a smoke. Do you?

            – Yes, I think I will.

Robert fetched Ray’s billiard and new pipe tool from the windowsill and they both fired up their pipes until the room was filled with the sweet aroma of Cavendish tobacco. Ray leaned back in his armchair and discovered that he could not cross his legs.

            – I wonder what it would feel like to wear the peg on one leg and a wooden leg on the other?

            – Well, nothing is stopping you from finding out!

            – The big advantage of the peg leg is that it has no knee.

            – That’s usually said to be a disadvantage but I can see what you mean. Maybe we could also make one of the knee joints on the leg immovable so the leg is always rigid if the peg seems to help.

            – We can try it. How do I get up?

            – Straighten your right leg. Push on the knee with your hand, that’ll straighten it. Now twist around to the right and push yourself up so you’re facing towards the chair.

            – All the way around?

            – Yes. I think the leg will stay rigid and you can centre your weight over it.

It almost worked but the knee buckled and Ray fell back onto the chair.

            – Try it again. You almost had it.

He did and failed four more times before he succeeded.

            – The trouble is that chair is fairly low. Low chairs are always a problem if you don’t have knees.

            – Is that true in my case, Robert? I have knees but they are not really useful for anything.

Robert looked into Ray’s eyes and considered his words for a moment.

            – I’m afraid so, Ray. For all intents and purposes, you might as well be a double above knee amputee. If you were, you would have better artificial legs with knee mechanisms. The ones you are wearing are intended for amputees like me who can still use our knees to walk. But at the moment, you have neither knee mechanisms nor working knees and there’s no way to add knee mechanisms to your wooden legs.

            – And that’s why I am having difficulties.

            – It certainly doesn’t make life any easier. The only way I can think for you to get better artificial legs is to have a revision done.

            – What’s that?

            – The surgeon re-amputates your legs above the knee. But that is an unusual request. They rarely amputate anything unless it’s absolutely the last possible choice.

            – I’ll have to wait for another foggy day, won’t I?

            – You wouldn’t dare!

            – Well, now I am up, I shall put my peg leg on and try walking again. I could go up and down the garden path, couldn’t I? Just to try it out.

            – Yeah, that would be a good place. Do you need help?

            – Not yet, thanks.

Ray dropped his trousers and used the tip of a walking stick to extract the rigid foot from the trouser cuff. He undid the lacing on his right thigh corset and pushed it off his stump. He stood it against the armchair and donned the peg leg.

            – Shall I help you pull your trousers up?

            – Yes please. Can you give me the other walking stick too? I might need them both.

            – Here you are. I think it would be best to start on the wooden leg and follow it with the peg rather than the other way round. Be ready with your sticks to support yourself if the knee buckles. I have to say I like the way you look with two walking sticks, Ray. Such a young man with something so unexpected. It’s quite sexy.

Ray kicked his left leg forward and made sure the heel was correct. He leaned forward onto the walking sticks and brought the slightly long peg leg forward in an arc. He turned himself around to face into the room and repeated the sequence. The wooden leg obeyed and the peg was always trustworthy.

            – I’m going in the back garden.

            – I’ll come with you. I want to watch. I love the peg leg being under your trousers instead of over them.

The path was uneven in places but Ray kept his eye on where he was placing his heel. He twisted his hip and the peg leg arc’ed round in front. Ray tried using one stick at a time to both support and push himself until on the third circuit, he handed one to Robert.

            – I think I only need one. We’ll see.

He was able to work up a decent rhythm. It was uneven but efficient. On his fifth circuit, he gave the second stick to Robert and tried without.

            – For some reason, this feels better than with the two wooden legs.

            – Don’t tire yourself, Ray. And I don’t like you not having a stick. You’ve proved you can do it. Come inside again now before you fall and hurt yourself.

They went in an Ray spent the rest of the evening with his peg sticking out horizontally.

 

On Sunday morning, Robert boiled several kettles of hot water and the pair washed themselves all over in the scullery. There was no bathroom in their rooms. Robert occasionally went to the local swimming pool for a proper shower and a quick swim afterwards. Ray donned his wooden legs and took his crutches outside and practised using them to walk up and down. Robert thought they were helping more than the walking sticks.

            – Are you going to use the crutches when we go to lunch?

            – Yes, I think I will.

            – I’ll carry them for you if you want to walk without them for a bit.

            – Robert, I was thinking last night about getting a revision like you said. How would I go about that if I want proper artificial legs with knees?

            – You’d have to talk to the surgeon, I reckon. You’re going to the hospital on Thursday morning, aren’t you? You can ask Dr Young. He’ll be able to tell you.

 

The Martins were pleased to welcome the pair for lunch and delighted to see Ray standing unaided. Ray pulled himself inside, having given Robert his crutches.

            – It’s lovely to see you on two legs again, dear. Are you managing alright with them?

            – It’s a bit slow but I’m getting better at it, mum. I expect I will be able to go back to work soon.

            – That would be nice. I do hope so, dear. Come and sit down and I’ll bring you a cup of tea. Hello, Robert. How are you?

            – Fine, thank you.

            – Well, I’d better get back to the kitchen. We’re having roast lamb today.

They settled themselves in the sitting room and Arthur Martin spoke up.

            – I have a bit of a surprise for you. My mate at work asked his son about lending us his van for a few hours and they’re both coming round at four o’clock to help carry your bed and chest of drawers, Ray. So you’ll be sleeping in your own bed tonight.

            – That’s wizard! Thanks, dad.

            – Now, while your mum’s in the kitchen, I want to know exactly how you’re managing with your legs. It’s not so easy, is it, son? I can see the effort you have to make.

            – Well, the trouble is that my knees aren’t strong enough to make the legs move. I have to kick them forward with my thigh muscles and it’s much harder than I thought it would be. And the legs don’t have any knee mechanisms to stop my knees from buckling if I don’t get it exactly right. So really, at the moment, it’s like I don’t have any control over my knees, if you see what I mean.

            – Yes, I see. Pull your trouser legs up, Ray. I haven’t seen your legs yet.

Ray pulled up a trouser cuff as far as he could to show his knee and some of the thigh corset.

            – That’s a handsome leg. Very nicely finished. And that simple hinge is all there is at the knee.? Yes, I see you might have trouble, Ray. Your stumps are very short. You can’t get the leverage to work your legs. What are you going to do at work?

            – The doctor who made these legs said he can make me stump boots.

            – Oh, they’re such a throwback, Ray. You don’t want to be walking round in stump boots, son. You’ll look a right cripple to everyone. You know what they are, don’t you?

            – Yes, dad. But I’ll wear them at work so I can operate the signal levers and move around the box. These wooden legs would just buckle if I try to pull a heavy lever wearing them.

            – Yes, I can imagine they would. You don’t have this sort of trouble, do you, Robert?

            – No, sir. My stump is much longer and I can use my knee to walk.

            – That’s what I thought. You walk very well.

            – Been doing it for quite a while!

June Martin brought in a tray with their tea.

            – Oh, it is nice having you here again. I was so looking forward to it all week. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour.

She returned to the kitchen.

            – So about these stump boots. Did you say you’re having a pair made?

            – Yes. I’m going for a casting on Thursday. I also need to ask about a revision.

            – What revision? What do you mean?

            – I’m going to ask if they can amputate my legs again above the knee so I can get a pair of artificial legs with mechanical knees.

            – My God! You would go through all that again? I don’t think they’ll allow it, Ray. They’ll want to have proof that your present amputations are unsuitable and they won’t do it this year or the next. And in any case, mechanical knees are hardly better than what you have now.

He pulled his own trouser leg up to reveal his aluminium prosthesis.

            – This just swings back and forth, Ray. There’s a bit of elastic inside to offer a bit of resistance, but that’s all. You could easily add elastic to the front of your legs to keep them a bit more secure when you walk. The knees wouldn’t buckle so easily. Ask your doctor when you see him in the week. I bet he could add some elastic on them there and then.

            – Oh, that sounds like a good idea. Yes, I’ll ask him.

 

Lunch was soon ready. Arthur Martin watched as his son tried to rise from his armchair. One leg sticking out, twisting and turning and pushing with his arms. God almighty, what a rigmarole! Ray knew he was being watched and made an effort to get up on the first attempt. He rocked across to a dining chair and placed his hands behind him to take his weight as he allowed his knees to buckle.

            – So, Ray dear, how have you been getting on? What do you do when Robert is at work?

            – This week I’ve been practising with my legs. I have two walking sticks which I can use, or these crutches, and I walk up and down the path outside. And sometimes I sit and read one of Robert’s books. I’ve been reading On The Beach this week.

            – That’s a grim story, isn’t it, son? End of the world, and all that.

            – It’s interesting. And for the first time, I can read something I want to read instead of having to read Macbeth or Charles Dickens like the school wants. Robert has some nice books I’m going to read.

            – That’s nice. I don’t suppose you have a television set, do you, Robert?

            – No, they’re still a little expensive and of course I work evenings quite often so I wouldn’t have a chance to watch it anyway.

 

They chatted during their meal. June Martin produced a freshly baked apple pie for dessert. Robert helped Arthur clear the table and they washed the dishes together. Arthur quizzed Robert more about Ray’s progress. Robert could do no more than to repeat what Ray had told him.

            – I can see that it’s a struggle for him but he’s being very patient. I know he was disappointed when he discovered how difficult it is to control two artificial legs.

            – Do you think he’ll be up to working again?

            – It’s hard to say. He’ll have a good try and he’ll probably do better with stump boots, ugly though they are.

 

June Martin also had questions for Ray about his condition.

            – Are they painful in any way, Ray? I know your father sometimes has trouble.

            – No, the legs are alright. I have stump socks on underneath to prevent chafing, you see.

            – Oh, that reminds me. Just a moment.

She rose and fetched something from a bag beside her sewing box.

            – I made these for you. I hope they’re the proper size. And here’s a pair I made for Robert.

            – Thanks mum. These are exactly what I need.

June Martin had knitted two pairs of tubular stump socks for Ray in alternate red and white, and blue and white. They looked like football socks. Robert’s were dark green with grey trim at each end.

            – Just let me know if you’d like any more. It doesn’t take long to make them. I’m glad you’re getting on, Ray. I know it isn’t easy for you, dear. Is Robert helping?

            – Yes, I’m really glad Robert’s there if I want to ask him stuff and he gives me advice on how to sit down and get up. That sort of thing.

            – And is it difficult for you to get up, Ray?

            – Yes, sometimes when the chair is quite low, it’s hard to get my legs straight so I can push up onto them.

            – It sounds awful, Ray. I wish you didn’t have to go through all this.

            – It’s alright, mum. Don’t worry. I’m learning and getting better at it every day.

 

Arthur and Robert joined them. Arthur switched the television set on to warm up. There was a matinee film on at two o’clock. Some kind of romance made in nineteen thirty-four. It might help to pass the time while they waited for the greengrocer and his dad to arrive. June Martin’s eyes returned time after time to look at her son’s feet, motionless, pointing up at forty-five degrees.

 

Arthur fell asleep soon after the film began. Ray nudged Robert and pointed. They both sniggered and June shushed them with a conspiratorial smile. She took out her knitting and started on another pair of stump socks. It was such an easy pattern that she could knit and watch the film at the same time. It was a lovely story.

 

The film ended and a gardening programme about the optimum time to plant perennials began. Ray and Robert were ready to tear their hair out when there was a loud double knock on the front door and Arthur jerked awake.

            – Oh, I must have nodded off. I’ll get it. It’ll be Harry and his lad.

It was.

            – Hallo, Harry. It’s very good of you to come and help out like this. Come in, come in! Hello son! We’ve not met. I’m Arthur Martin.

            He offered his hand and shook the young greengrocer’s hand.

            – Peter Wilmark. How do you do.

            – Alright, Art. Show us what needs moving and we’ll get stuck in.

            – Only a few bits. A bed and mattress, a chest of drawers. I’ve emptied it all and taken the drawers out. I wonder if Robert could give you a hand. I’m afraid my son is too disabled at the moment to carry anything. Robert!

He appeared in the hallway and Arthur introduced him to the newcomers.

            – Can you lend a hand, Robert? Take some of the lighter stuff?

            – Yes, I can do that.

            – I’ll show you upstairs and we can get started.

He led them to Ray’s old room.

            – We’ll take the heavy stuff first, Pete. Shall I go down backwards?

            – Yeah, it’ll be better.

Harry grabbed hold of the bed and lifted it. Peter took the other end and they moved towards the stairs. Arthur suddenly noticed that Peter was using a steel hook on his left arm. It gripped one of the bed’s legs. They worked their way carefully outside and lifted the bed into Pete’s van. Robert followed with three wide drawers. Within ten minutes, the room was empty of all Ray’s furniture and Arthur went to tell Ray to get his coat on if he wanted a lift back to Acton in the van. Ray struggled out of his chair, grabbed the stump socks and kissed his mother.

            – See you again next week, dear. Take care, love.

Robert called out his thanks and wished her a good week. Arthur stood at the front door watching them arrange themselves into the van. It looked like Pete and Harry were in the front and Robert and Ray had piled into the back. He supposed they were sitting on the mattress. Pete started the van. Arthur waved, closed the door and rejoined his wife.

 

            – Oh darn it! I’ve forgotten my crutches!

            – You can borrow mine if you want. The only long trip you have next week is walking to the hospital. You’ll have to go alone this time, Ray. I’m working from seven to four all week. You can manage on your own, can’t you?

            – Yes, I think so.

            – Just announce yourself at the Reception and they’ll take care of the rest. You know, I think the most important thing is to ask to have elastic straps on your legs. I’m sure that will make it easier to walk for you. Dr Young will know exactly what you mean and he’ll have some elastic and what have you all ready.

            

            – Robert! What number was it? It’s funny. I drive past here twice a day. I live in Hanwell and the shop is in Hammersmith.

Peter drove onto the pavement outside the flat and climbed out to open the back doors. Robert crawled out and helped Ray onto his feet. He opened the front door and Ray’s flat and went back to help carry the furniture inside. Harry put his arm around Ray’s shoulder.

            – I hear you’ve been in the wars. How are you getting on with your new legs? I hear most of your news from your dad at work, of course.

            – I’m not doing too badly. Thank you very much for helping me move like this.

            – Don’t mention it. I’m just along for the ride. It’s Pete you should say thank you to.

            – I will.

Ray turned and approached the front door. The three steps looked next to impossible without sticks or crutches.

            – Robert! Can you help me, please?

Peter was walking towards him.

            – Need a hand, mate? Here, grab on.

He bent his left elbow and offered the crook of his arm to Ray who took it and thrust his left leg onto the first step. Peter stepped up to help pull Ray up to the next step. The next step was tackled in the same way.

            – I heard you’re new on those legs. Looks to me like you’re doing alright.

            – I’m getting better. I forgot my crutches. They’ll be in Hayes until next week.

            – Oh. Should we go and fetch them?

            – No, it’s alright. Robert has a spare pair.

            – Is he disabled too?

            – Yes, he has a wooden leg.

            – Well, that makes three of us.

Ray looked quizzically at Peter.

            – Didn’t you notice just now?

He lifted his hook up. Ray’s mouth dropped open.

            – Oh, I didn’t know. And you’ve been carrying my furniture and everything.

            – Yeah, well, why not? I don’t mind helping out.

            – Why have you got a hook?

            – I learned the hard way you shouldn’t play with fireworks. I was only twelve. I heard you got run over by a train. That must have been nasty.

            – I don’t remember it very well. I bet it was nastier for the engine drivers who found me.

            – Maybe so. Look, I’d better bring some more stuff in and move my van before Mr Policeman comes along. We can talk some other time.

Ray stood by the door and watched Peter bounce down the steps and lift out the drawers. He walked back carefully on the uneven path and mounted the steps. He winked at Ray as he passed. Ray went into his room and saw the sofa pushed into the bay window and his bed in the corner of the room. The chest of drawers could be next to it and serve as a night table. Robert brought in his old lampshade and bedside lamp. Harry carried in a bag which seemed to contain sheets or something.

            – Don’t you have a heater in here, Ray? It feels a bit chilly even now.

            – No. It’s warm enough when I’m in bed.

            – Well, ask your dad to get you a heater. We can get them cheap. We make the things, after all. Silly to freeze your arse off, pardon my French.

Robert and Peter carried the remainder of the chest of drawers in.

            – Where shall we put this, Ray?

            – Next to my bed would be good.

            – Right you are. That’s the lot now, apart from the mattress.

Robert went out to help Harry bring it in.

            – Thank you ever so much for helping me, Peter. I feel like I really have moved now I have my own furniture and things here.

            – Don’t mention it, Ray. I’m only too glad to lend a hand. You never know when you might need some help yourself.

Robert and Harry put the mattress onto Ray’s bed and looked around them.

            – This is going to be a nice room when you get some more bits and pieces in here, I reckon.

            – Peter, in way of thanks, would you like to join us on Friday evening for a couple of beers and a spot of supper?

            – Thanks, Robert. Yes, actually, that would be nice. Let’s see – I close up at five and it usually takes about an hour to clear up, so I reckon a bit before seven. Is that alright?

            – That would be fine. Thanks again for all your help.

            – Alright, we’ll be seeing you. Come on dad, let’s make tracks.

            – Bye, you two.

 

Robert saw them out and returned to Ray’s room to help him make his bed. There were some extra sheets in among the things they had brought.

            – There you are, Ray. Now this will start to feel more like home. We’ll have to keep an eye out for new bits of furniture for in here. I expect you could do with a table and chair. Do you want that sofa or shall we try to sell it? I don’t want it.

            – No, it’s too low for me to sit on with my legs.

            – That’s what I thought. We’ll get rid of it. Come on, let’s go and have some tea. And a smoke!

 

As he had mentioned, Robert was working the early day shift that week and Ray didn’t see him until late afternoon. Ray enjoyed experimenting with different combinations of his artificial limbs. Sometimes he wore his peg leg on the left with a wooden leg on the right. It did not quite feel right, he thought. Sometimes he tried walking with Robert’s crutches and only one wooden leg. That felt quite good and almost always gave him an erection. One morning when he was practising outside on the path, he glanced up and saw one of his upstairs neighbours watching him from a second floor window. Initially, Ray felt his privacy had been invaded but after that, he consciously made an effort to walk with a better gait and more erect, and learned how to twirl a walking stick for an impressive effect. Just in case he had an audience.

 

In the afternoons, Ray sat on one of the dining chairs and read. He had finished On The Beach and looked through Robert’s paperbacks for another good story. He found Brave New World and was soon hooked by its fantastic world where everyone thought they were happy.

 

On Thursday morning, Ray noticed Robert had left a reminder to leave the flat at noon in good time for his two o’clock appointment. Ray thought about what he would need for the walk to the hospital from the Uxbridge Road and back again. Crutches or walking sticks? If he needed to carry something, it would be easiest with just one walking stick. He was gaining more confidence on his legs and had begun to trust them a little more. One stick should be alright. He made himself a cheese sandwich for lunch and just before noon, made sure he had some money for bus fare, his keys and the scrap of paper with the names of his doctors. He made his way slowly down the steps outside and walked stiff legged to the bus stop.

 

            – Hello. I’ve come to see Dr Young. I have an appointment at two o’clock.

            – You’re awfully early, Mr Martin. Please take a seat and I will tell him that you’re here.

She disappeared from view, returning several minutes later.

            – Dr Young will be along shortly.

            – Thank you.

Dr Young came to collect Ray at half past one.

            – Hello Raymond. It’s good of you to be so punctual. Do come along to the workshop and we can get started. He watched as Ray forced one leg straight and pushed himself up with his stick.

            – I see you are learning the moves, Raymond. How do you feel on your legs?

            – Well, that’s something I would like to talk to you about. I have learned that I am more disabled than I expected to be and other amputees have explained what the problem is.

            – Well, let’s talk about it in private. Nearly there. Go inside, please, Raymond.

They went into the workshop. Young closed the door.

            – Sit down on this bench, please. Now what’s this talk about being disabled?

            – Well, my stumps are too short to work my lower legs. I seem to be using my thighs most to get my legs to work. And I’m always afraid that my knees will buckle. And I can’t use my legs like this at work.

            – That is quite a list. Yes, I understand what you are saying. I myself had my doubts about you being left with so little muscular function in your lower legs. What have your amputee friends told you?

            – They told me to ask for a revision.

            – Really? And what kind of revision are we talking about?

            – It’s called an above knee amputation and it will let me use artificial legs with mechanical knees. At the moment, it’s as if I don’t have any knees. I can’t use my own and these wooden legs don’t have anything more than a hinge.

            – Yes, I can understand your problem. In spite of that, you’re managing extremely well. I think it’s remarkable that you can walk with only one cane. Who was your surgeon? Do you remember?

Ray took the scrap of paper from his pocket.

            – It was Dr Stephen Foster.

            – Oh really? I am surprised. He usually makes quite sure his patients will have viable stumps. Raymond, wait a few minutes and I will see if he is free. You need to show him your problems with walking before he agrees to anything. In the meantime, take your trousers off and stay on the bench.

 

He left the room and asked at Reception where Stephen Foster might be found.

            – He might still be in the common room, doctor. He has a booking in just over an hour but he might be there now.

            – Thank you, Elise.

Foster was indeed in the common room.

            – Stephen, I hope I’m not intruding. I have a bit of a conundrum with a young man we gave DBKs to a couple of months ago. He’s having the devil of a time using his prostheses and has turned up today for a casting and is talking of a revision. I don’t suppose you’d mind coming by and having a chat with him, would you?

            – Is he one of mine?

            – Yes. Raymond Martin.

            – Oh yes, I remember. Both legs off after a railway accident. Alright, let’s see what he has to say for himself.

They walked back to Young’s workshop.

            – I hate revisions. It’s like I didn’t do my job properly.

            – We did what we could. The boy has managed to get here with one walking stick and two prosthetic legs, so you have to give him credit for trying. I think he’s most concerned about being able to perform at work and I have to admit, his current configuration is pretty useless.

 

They entered the workshop and Young closed the door. Ray sat on the bench with his prosthetic legs dangling over the edge of the bench.

            – Hello Raymond. It’s good to see you again. But what’s this I hear about a revision? You do know that when we amputate, we try to keep as much viable tissue as possible, don’t you? Your upper shins were not damaged and so that is where I amputated. But do tell me about the problems you have been having.

Ray explained it all in his own teenager style. The lack of torque. The precarious stability of the knee joints. The difficulty with chairs. The challenge of steps. Better mechanical knees in longer artificial legs.

            – I see. Raymond, I am afraid some of those problems will still exist even after a revision. It will still be difficult for you to rise from a chair, for example. However, I reluctantly agree with you that the stumps which I created for you are not the optimum for your circumstances and I will schedule you for revisional amputations. I think early next summer after you have fully recovered from your present amputations. It might well be that you will no longer want a revision then. I would remove approximately six inches of your legs and you would have two long thigh stumps suitable for long artificial legs with knee mechanisms. Is that not correct, Dr Young?

            – It is indeed. The knees will be better that the simple hinges you have now. But Raymond! You must understand that you will still be a disabled young man. The new prosthetic legs will not be a panacea. They won’t let you do everything.

            – But they will hold me up better and be safer to walk on?

            – It is quite possible.

            – Yes, I agree. We miscalculated when producing your stumps, Raymond, so I will re-amputate next year. Now if you will excuse me.

            – Well, I didn’t expect that. I’ve never known Dr Foster admit a misjudgment to a patient before.           

            – There was something else I wanted to ask you about my wooden legs. My friend Robert thinks that if you could fix some elastic over the knees, it would make it easier for me to straighten my legs.

            – Yes, I know what you mean. Well, I can add elastic straps right away. Take your legs off.

Ray did so.

            – I shan’t be long.

He took Ray’s wooden legs to his workbench. He found some wide elastic material and a handful of brass rivets. He made a quick measurement of Ray’s bent knees and made corresponding markings on the wooden legs. Ten minutes later, the legs were ready for Ray to don and test.

            – Put these back on and see if they feel any different.

Young had riveted two wide strips of elastic from the front of the wooden legs to the base of the leather thigh sockets, covering the knees. Ray donned his legs and wriggled down to stand on the floor.

            – Try walking.

            Ray struck out with his right leg and immediately noticed that the leg itself wanted to be straight. He leaned onto it and brought his left leg forward. The right leg bent enough for him to complete the step and he continued his momentum. Each step felt far more secure than ever before. His legs snapped into the correct position without Ray needing to consciously ensure that they did so and he turned around at the end of the room with a wide grin.

            – These feel wonderful! Exactly what I needed.

            – Raymond, I am happy to see that we have corrected your problem. I see you will soon be sixteen years old. You know that you will be eligible for an invalid carriage, don’t you?

            – One of those little blue cars?

            – Yes. You will have to apply for one separately and take a simple road test, but I think you may be a lot more mobile quite soon.

            – There was one other thing, Dr Young. Do you know when I will have my stump boots?

            – Not the exact day, Raymond, but I am fairly certain that you will have them within a fortnight. They are quite complicated to make, you know. They’re not the sort of thing that an ordinary shoemaker can produce. Be patient a little longer.

            – It’s just that I need them before I can return to work.

            – I understand. I promise to let you know as soon as they arrive. Do you have a telephone number?

            – No, sorry.

            – I’ll send you a postcard, in that case. Acton Vale, isn’t it? I grew up there. I know the area very well. Is that all, Raymond? Anything else you’d like to ask about?

            – Is it possible to have another peg leg, Dr Young?

            – Have you broken the first one?

Raymond thought quickly.

            – Yes, I’m afraid so. Our removal van accidentally ran over it when I was moving to my new flat and the peg snapped in half.

            – Very careless. Do you use a peg leg often enough to warrant a new one?

            – Yes, sir. I use it at home when I need to use our outhouse. I don’t trust my legs enough but the peg is very sturdy.

            – I see. Just a moment and I’ll see if I have a suitable peg in stock.

He looked at Ray’s medical notes to check what size peg leg he had received a few weeks previously and disappeared into his stockroom.

            – You’re in luck, Raymond. This is the very last one in your size. Do you need to try it on?

            – Not really, sir. If it’s the same as the old one, it will fit.

            – Yes, true enough. I’ll wrap it in brown paper for you, Raymond. I’m sure you don’t want to walk with it on display.

            – No sir. Only when it’s on my leg.

            – Here you are, young man. I should tell you that you have now received all the prosthetic equipment which you are entitled to for this year until next April. So please treat your artificial limbs and the peg with care.

            – I will, sir. Thank you for this.

            – Don’t mention it. We’ll meet again shortly when you collect your stump boots. Good bye, Raymond.

 

He made his way back to the bus stop in a shorter time than ever before. He carried his walking stick horizontally in his left hand and his new peg leg in the right. It felt wonderful to walk freely. And he was looking forward to trying out his second peg leg. Robert would have to help him get up but he wouldn’t mind. He handed his peg and stick to the conductress for storage and pulled himself aboard. He was getting quite good at boarding buses on wooden legs.

 

Back in Acton, he lowered himself from the bus and crossed the road. There were the dreaded three steps. Fortunately Ray had a stick with him. It was essential in order to negotiate the steps. He took his time on them and walked through to Robert’s flat to make some tea. He sat in an armchair and noticed that his legs tended to remain straight unless he manually pulled the shins towards him. The knees still bent freely but needed some weight on them to hold them in place. The kettle whistled and Ray rotated himself up from his chair. It was a little easier than before. He had a cup of tea and smoked his pipe alone for the first time. He smoked half a bowl of Cavendish and decided that next time he would try the Navy Cut which Ed had bought him. He felt oddly content. His wooden legs were finally working properly and he was smoking a big briar pipe. He had achieved the things he had fantasized about since he was a little boy. His new peg leg rested against the sofa.

 

Robert arrived soon after six.

            – I have to go to the off-licence to get some drink for tomorrow. Do you want to come with me? How are your legs now? Did you get them fixed?

            – Yes to all of that! My legs are much better with some elastic on them. That was a really good idea. I can even get up easier, watch!

            – Oh good. That looked easier for you. Are you pleased?

            – Yes, and no. My knees are still useless. I want proper mechanical knees and so Dr Foster has agreed to do a re-amputation.

            – You’re kidding me!

            – No I’m not. I’ll have to wait until next summer but he’s going to cut my knees off so I can wear tin legs with proper knees.

            – My God, Ray! You’ve just said your wooden legs are working and you immediately want to make them obsolete. I don’t understand it. Come on, if you’re coming. We only have until seven.

Ray grabbed a walking stick and walked with Robert along the Vale to the off-licence.

            – What would you like to drink, Ray? Do you like cider? I don’t suppose you like ales, do you?

            – I don’t know. I’ve not really tasted any of it before. I had some wine when you bought it for mum and dad.

            – I’ll get you some cider. Hello, four pints of cider and a dozen pale ales, please. Do your mum and dad know you want new amputations, by the way?

            – No.

            – What are they going to think?

            – You’ve seen how hard it is for me to walk with my useless knees. And I can’t have long artificial legs while I still have knees.

            – But you said your legs are fixed now. You are walking better on them, if you ask me.

            – It’s still hard and I don’t feel good with my knees just supporting my weight all the time. Sometimes it hurts.

            – Alright. They’re going to be very upset, and you’ll need at least a couple of months off work.

Robert looked at Ray’s plaintive face and hugged him.

            – Don’t worry. I’m not angry at you. The whole situation is crazy.

Robert put the bottles into a string bag and they returned home.

            

            – What shall we have to eat tomorrow evening? We could always have sandwiches, I suppose but I was thinking I could get some sausage rolls before the shops shut and see what else they might have. I don’t want it to seem too posh. I don’t think Pete would enjoy that. What do you think?

            – Mum always makes a savoury flan when we have guests. Something with ham and spinach. I don’t like it very much.

            – No, I don’t like spinach either. But I’ll see if the bakery has anything savoury. Right, so that’s settled. Now. Why don’t you try one of these ciders to see if you like it? I’m going to have a beer.

He fetched a bottle opener and two glasses from the kitchen. He opened a cider.

            – Hold the glass and I’ll pour. Say when.

Ray tasted his first ever cider and liked it. They both fired up their pipes and sat back tasting their drinks.

            – Why is your peg leg in here, Ray? Have you been practising on it again?

            – Oh, I forgot to tell you. That’s my second one. I asked Dr Young for another peg leg and he gave me one.

            – You must be joking! Just like that he gave you another peg leg?

            – Well, I had to tell him my first one had broken.

            – You sly devil! I see there are sides of you I haven’t seen before. Are you going to try walking with two pegs?

            – Yes, of course. Will you help me stand up? It might be difficult for me the first time.

            – We’ll try it out in a minute.

            – Oh and another thing! I can have an invalid carriage when I’m sixteen.

            – Really? That’s wizard! I don’t know where you can park it, though. Right around the back there might be room for it. Maybe you could park it on one of the side streets. But that would be really good, Ray. You’ll be able to go everywhere in the mobile and save your energy.

            – I have to take a road test first, Dr Young said. I don’t know how to go about getting one of those.

            – We’ll sort it all out when the time comes. Only another couple of months, Ray, and you’ll be allowed to do things legally for the first time.

            – What sort of things?

            – Well, drink alcohol and smoke tobacco, for example.

            – Haha! I’m doing that now.

            – Yes, so don’t tell anyone. You’ll get me in trouble. I’m supposed to be taking care of you not leading you into depravity.

            – Robert, can I ask you something?

            – Of course you can.

            – Why don’t you have a girlfriend?

Robert weighed up whether to give a glib answer or tell Ray the truth. Ray was extremely naïve about sexual matters and since homosexuality was illegal, the fewer people who knew about it the better.

            – I suppose I’ve not met the right girl yet, Ray. And they take one look at my wooden leg and skedaddle as soon as possible.

            – That’s silly. But would you like to have a wife and family?

            – No, not really. I like having company, though. Someone to talk to. That’s why I told you that you could move in here. It’s nice to have someone around. It stops me feeling blue. And a man with peg legs who smokes a pipe is the ideal company. Come on, get your legs off! I want to see you on pegs.

 

            – Can you get my other peg from my room? It’s by the piano.

            – Will do.

Ray shifted himself in the armchair and pulled his trousers to his ankles. He unlaced his thigh sockets and extricated his thighs. Robert returned with his first peg.

            – Alright, stick your leg out. Now bend your knee. You can do the straps up yourself. Here comes the next one. This looks utterly extraordinary. I’ve never seen anyone with two peg legs before. I’ll get your crutches.

Robert looked back at Ray readjusting his black pegs and tightening the belts which held them onto his stumps. He leaned on the crutches in front of Ray.

            – I’ve never seen you with crutches before. You look very nice with them.

            – They’re not for me this time. Are you ready?

Ray sat in his armchair with the two peg legs protruding directly in front of him.

            – Sit sideways as much as you can and I’ll try to lift you up from behind. Here’s your crutches.

Ray shifted them quickly under his arms and leaned on them. He looked down at two peg legs and his penis began to swell. Robert’s was already engorged.

            – Let me try walking.

Ray swung his right peg forward in an arc and moved his crutches. The left peg followed a similar trajectory. Ray’s legs were both completely rigid.

            – I’m going to walk up and down in the hallway. Can you open the door?

Robert held the door open and Ray went through it as far as the step. He transferred one crutch to his other arm and grabbed the bannister. He lifted one peg onto the higher landing and pulled his other peg up. He transferred the first crutch back under his left arm and made his stiff legged way down the hallway to the front door. Robert had never seen anything so utterly erotic and ejaculated into his underwear. Ray worked his way around and stomped back, turned and pegged to the front door again.

            – You look amazing, Ray. I’ve never seen anyone on two peg legs before.

            – You can’t imagine what this feels like, Robert. It’s like I was always intended to be like this. I feel so perfect. I can’t explain it. It’s wonderful.

            – If you practise enough, you can use your walking sticks instead.

            – Robert! By next weekend I want to be using two peg legs without any sticks.

            – I don’t know how you’d manage that but we’ll see. Come back in now. Let’s have another drink.

 

Ray wore his pegs for the rest of the evening. Robert helped him down on to the outside path a couple of times so he could pee but Ray seemed completely satisfied to be hobbled with two pegs. His wooden legs rested against the sofa.

            – It seems to me that your useless knees don’t matter now, Ray. A bit of elastic solved the other problem and you can wear your pegs only because you have short little knee stumps. If you lose them, you’ll not be able to play around nearly so much.

            – Yes, I think you’re right. I can always let the hospital know I don’t need the extra amputations.

            – Of course you can. But let’s see how it goes first. When are you getting your stump boots?

            – Dr Young didn’t know but said within the next two weeks.

            – That would be good. Then you could come back to work.

            – I know. That’s what I’m looking forward to.

 

They ended the evening by washing their stumps and their stump socks. Ray dragged his peg legs into his room on his knees, lifted himself up onto his bed and slept like a baby. Robert sprawled on his own convertible couch and re-imagined the sight of Ray on peg legs and Peter’s artificial arm. He came again.

 

Robert had been gone for an hour when Ray woke up. He stumped into Robert’s quarters and had a cheese sandwich for breakfast. He’d make some tea when he had some legs on. He could not reach the cooker otherwise. He wanted to try two peg legs again. He would have to be standing up when he put them on, so he would first have to don his wooden legs and then take them off one by one to replace them with pegs. He could lean against the wall or in the corner to do it. He collected everything needed and sat on the sofa to don his wooden legs. He rotated himself erect and placed his peg legs and crutches within reach in the corner of the room.

 

Leaning into the corner himself, he removed the right wooden leg and dropped it to the floor. He took a peg leg and slid it onto his thigh. The buckles were easier to tighten and close when he was standing. He steadied himself on the peg and loosened his left wooden leg which similarly ended up on the floor. He cinched the left peg’s buckles as tightly as he could and reached out to grasp his crutches. First he tried pegging around the flat. Then he tried going down the one step into the scullery. And up again. If he could manage that, he could manage the step outside to the loo as well. Robert did not have a full length mirror in which to admire himself but he caught sight of his reflection in the window and stood wondering at such an unlikely figure. He had a painfully stiff erection. If only he could do something about it. His penis kept getting stiff more and more often. Quite often he had a stiff penis when he thought about his stumps or Robert’s long stump or Peter’s hook. He would have to ask Robert.

 

Ray kept his pegs on for another two hours. He began to feel a little peckish and looked in the larder. They were out of bread. For the first time, he would have to go to the baker’s to buy a loaf himself. Robert did all the shopping. Ray had a few shillings in his pocket. He could easily get a loaf and perhaps they would have something else which would go down well at the get-together that evening. He doffed his pegs and replaced them with his wooden legs. After discovering their new utility the previous day, he looked at his legs with something resembling love. If only they would work properly on his job. He would not need shorter stumps at all.

 

He took a walking stick and found a string bag in the scullery. Robert had lots of them and always had one in his coat pocket. Ray checked he had his door key and went out the long way round. He stepped down into the back garden with no problem and went out into the alleyway between properties on the Vale and the neighbouring street. It led to the side street where he would park his invalid carriage. He would have to think of a better name for it. Invacar. Bluebottle. Invablue. No-Leg-Mobile.

 

His legs were usually the only thing on his mind. He was surprised to find himself thinking of silly names instead of his legs. It was quite nice to walk on the wooden legs after all. He perked up and held himself more erect. That helped even more. He got a better swing into his legs and picked up the pace a little. Any other person would have noticed the rigid ankles and feet but Ray felt he was getting along better than ever before on his wooden legs and suddenly felt proud of himself. He was doing what no-one before him had ever done before – walk on two wooden legs down Acton Vale to buy a loaf of bread. The baker’s door rang a bell and an old man of about forty dressed in white with a funny hat on wished him a good morning.

            – Hello. I’d like a loaf of bread, please.

            – White or brown?

            – Er, white I think, please. It’s what we usually have.

            – Here you are, son. Will there be anything else?

            – Well, we’re having a party tonight but we don’t know what to give the guests. Have you got anything like a ham and spinach tart without the spinach?

            – Ha! Yes, we have some savoury cheese tarts here or some cottage cheese and asparagus tartlets, for example. Very tasty, very sweet.

            – Can I have three of each of those, please?

            – Of course. Might I ask why a lad your age is carrying a walking stick?

            – It’s because I have new wooden legs. I need a walking stick to get up steps, you see.

The baker was speechless.

            – How much is that?

            – Er, oh, one and eight, please, son.

Apart from the fresh loaf, he had allowed the legless boy half price on the other goods. They were yesterday’s, anyway. He watched, fascinated, the unnatural motion of Ray’s rigid feet as he left the shop.

 

Ray returned via the side street and back garden, relieved at not needing to tackle the three front steps. He sliced two thick chunks off the loaf and spread them with butter and cheddar cheese. He took them to an armchair and collapsed into it. Delicious fresh bread! His mum had always spoken about how nice fresh bread was but this was the first time he had ever appreciated it. Oh, it was really great! He considered going out every morning for a bit of exercise to buy a fresh loaf. It might be a good idea to get him up and about instead of being inside all the time. At least, until he went back to work, of course. He wished his stump boots would be ready soon.

 

He was looking forward to seeing Peter again in the evening. He had seemed a very friendly man and of course it was kind of him to help out with the move. Ray had a few questions about his hook. He could not imagine how such a thing could work. Perhaps Peter could explain it to him. Ray decided he would wear his football shorts in the evening so his wooden legs were on display. Ray reached for the copy of Brave New World and read the last forty or so pages. It seemed to him that a perfect life without problems would be boring and hardly worth living. He snapped the book shut and rose to have another look through Robert’s book collection. He found an interesting story called Reach For The Sky about a legless pilot. That sounded very apt! Ray sat down again and started reading it. A few minutes later, he heard the letter box snap shut followed by a single knock. A letter or something for Robert or himself. He rotated himself up and clunked down the hallway to fetch the post. It was a postcard from Dr Young. New equipment ready for collection at your earliest convenience. CY. His stump boots had arrived! He looked at his watch and calculated that if he left immediately, he would probably be back just before Robert got home. He went into his room and put his coat on. Luckily he had not been playing around with his peg legs that morning. His wooden legs were on, ready for an outing. He grabbed a string bag, his new paperback and a walking stick and carefully negotiated the front steps. An Uxbridge bus arrived and Ray hauled himself aboard.

 

            – Raymond! I was expecting to see you today. Your boots are waiting for you. Come along and we’ll see if they fit. I see you’re managing with just the one stick. How are the legs now? Do they feel more reliable?

            – They feel very good now. I don’t need to think about every single step. I can think about other things too. I like the way the feet move. It feels very… solid? Very secure.

            – That’s good to hear. Are you still thinking about a re-amputation in the summer?

            – I think I will be able to manage on the wooden legs now. Perhaps it would be better to tell Dr Foster that I don’t need new amputations after all.

            – That’s good to hear. I’m sure your new boots will help persuade you that your present situation with short stumps is for the best. Here we are. Sit down, Raymond, and take your prostheses off.

Young fetched two long black leather boots from his stockroom and placed them on the floor in front of Ray.

            – Here you are, young man. Your first pair of stump boots. As you can see, the manufacturer has given you a very generous sole. This is a good three inches thick. Let’s try them on you. Lift your left leg.

Young loosened the laces near the top of the fifteen inch long boots.

            – Keep your stump straight until it touches the sole of the boot. Then you can bend it so it goes into the back of the boot and you are kneeling on the sole.

He pushed the huge boot onto Ray’s leg and asked Ray to tighten the laces. The sight of his gleaming leather thigh boot was arousing for Ray and he squirmed in embarrassment.

            – Let’s try the other leg, young man. Hold your leg out straight.

 

Ray cinched the laces of his right boot and looked down at his transformed legs. Black leather replaced the smart tan. The row of lacing was gone, replaced by a huge expanse of glossy leather.

            – Jump down and see how they feel. Don’t run off anywhere just yet, please.

Ray eased his behind off of the chair and lowered himself onto the ends of his stump boots. He was standing a little taller than he had expected thanks to the extreme thickness of the rubber soles.

            – How do they feel, Raymond? Are your legs snug inside the boots or can you feel any looseness somewhere?

            – No, they feel like they are gripping my legs all the way up my thighs.

            – That’s just how they should be. Now, you should have walking sticks to start off with but I see from your notes that you have already exhausted your limit for equipment for this year so I am reluctant to offer you any more. Of course, you could always pay the full price but new walking sticks will cost you over three pounds. Do you want to pay that, Raymond?

            – I can’t afford that, sir.

            – In that case, let me help you across to the parallel bars and your can try out your boots there.

He gripped Ray’s upper arm and guided him across the room. Ray swung his legs like he did when he was wearing his two peg legs.

            – I can see you’re well prepared to wear these boots, Raymond. You have exactly the right method down pat.

            – I think it’s because of the peg leg, sir. I am walking the same way and swinging my legs around instead of straight forward.

            – That’s exactly what you need to do. Well, let’s see you walking up and down the bars anyway. I think you already have the hang of it, though.

Ray made a good effort to swing his stumps rhythmically and evenly in front of him, touching the bars occasionally and enjoying the new sensations in his legs.

            – I think you know what you’re doing, Raymond. I am satisfied to let you have the boots immediately without further training. Sometimes it takes months before a patient masters his boots. Well, what do you want to do? Wear them straight away or change back onto your wooden legs?

            – I think I’ll change back, please, sir.

            – Of course. Let me help you get the boots off.

            – I think now I have these boots, I can go back to work. I will be able to pull the signal levers without having to worry about my artificial knees.

            – Quite so. I do hope you will be able to continue your career with your new boots and wooden legs, Raymond. I have tried to do my best to help you and you have been a very good and successful patient. I am sure this will not be the last time we meet but I wish you every success. Get in touch if you have any problems with your boots or legs.

            – Thank you, Dr Young.

Ray attached his wooden legs and rotated himself erect.

            – Shall I wrap those boots?

            – Yes please. I can put them in my string bag.

Young made a tidy package and dropped the boots into Ray’s bag. Ray grasped his walking stick and said his farewell to the doctor, who was personally astonished at how positively Raymond Martin had adjusted to his severe disability and his initiative.

            – Goodbye, Raymond. Best of luck.

 

Raymond said goodbye to the receptionist on his way out and walked along the lane towards the Uxbridge Road. The trees had lost most of their leaves and his rigid wooden feet kicked through them. His new boots were quite heavy and he changed hands several times although he felt more comfortable with the walking stick in his right hand. He crossed the main road and hailed the bus by raising his walking stick. It felt a fine thing to do.

 

Back in Acton, with good time to spare before Robert arrived, he sat in an armchair and removed his wooden legs. He fished his new boots out of the string bag and ripped the paper off. He intended to wear his boots for the rest of the evening. After several minutes, he lay back in the armchair with new black leather thighs and thick rubber soles pointing forward into the room. He waggled the boots up and down. They looked extraordinarily… disabling? On the contrary. They would let him return to work and operate as well as any able-bodied worker. Of that, he was sure. He worked himself down to stand on the floor and went to relieve himself. He held on to the door frame as he managed the step. His penis just reached the rim of the toilet bowl.

 

Ray made himself a couple of sandwiches and returned to the paperback about the aviator. It was apparently a true story. The man had smashed both a biplane and his legs showing off. Ray did not think it was anything to brag about. The rest of the story was just the author claiming over and over again how remarkable it was to walk on two artificial legs. Ray threw the book to one side and snoozed for an hour.

 

He was awoken by the sound of an upstairs neighbour slamming the front door. He looked at his watch and decided it was time to get ready for the evening. He had planned to wear football shorts and a navy blue jumper with his wooden legs on show. He removed his boots and donned his wooden legs. He hid his boots in a corner out of the way in Robert’s room. He would change into his boots when the others were watching. He would keep it a secret from Robert until then. He walked across to the scullery and washed his face. He could feel the downy whiskers on his face had grown a little longer. He would have to ask Robert about buying a razor. He had no idea what to ask for or how to use one. He scrubbed his armpits with a flannel and sniffed to test the results. Good enough. He made his way to his own room and changed into his pullover and shorts. It seemed to look alright. It would be good if there was a mirror he could check himself in. It would have to do. He left his room and at that moment the front door closed. A young man stood by the door and Ray looked at him in surprise.

            – Hello. I recognise you. I’ve seen you walking in your garden. How do you do. I’m Timothy Watson. I live on the second floor.

            – How do you do. I am Raymond Martin and I live right here.

He pointed at his door.

            – I thought you did. Do you know Robert?           

            – Yes, Robert and me share the flat.

            – You have artificial legs, don’t you? I’ve seen you wearing peg legs, I think. You use them very nicely. I only have an artificial arm so you beat me in that respect.

He shrugged his shoulder and his left hand with a black leather glove rose ninety degrees. The hand was merely cosmetic with no motion.

            – Well, I have to run. Things to do. See you again, Raymond.

 

Ray went back to the scullery and found a couple of dinner plates. He would put the savoury tart bits on them. Maybe he should clear away some of the junk on the table first. He moved his and Robert’s pipe and paraphernalia to the windowsill and swiped bits of tobacco onto the floor. That was good enough. He stumped back to the scullery and arranged his bakery items on two plates. They looked a little forlorn so he piled them all onto one plate. They looked a little more appetising. What else could he do? They would need glasses. He looked in Robert’s cupboard and found four beer mugs. They were all slightly different but that was alright. He rinsed them under the tap and shook them as dry as he could. He gripped two mugs in each hand and took them to the table. He returned to bring the plate of savoury slices. He heard the front door open and close. Moments later Robert entered.

            – Hi Ray! What’s all this then? That looks really nice. Where did these come from?

            – I bought them this morning in the bakery.

            – Oh. You’ve been out.

            – I had to go and buy some bread. We had none left.

            – I’m sorry, Ray. I should have remembered. Oh well, it was nice of you to get something to eat. I bought some more beer. If we don’t get through it all tonight, we can have our own little party tomorrow. What have you been up to today?

            – Oh, nothing much. I was reading. I finished Brave New World.

            – What did you think of it?

            – Reading it, I thought it was good to be able to decide your own life instead of having someone else make you think you’re happy.

            – Really? That’s a pretty good conclusion, Ray.

            – Then I started reading Reach For The Sky but it seems so silly I stopped reading. This man loses his legs and gets artificial ones. And suddenly it’s the most wonderful thing in the world.

            – Yeah, it’s very condescending. They even made a film of it, did you know?

            – No. I haven’t heard of anything like that.

            – Right. I need a quick wash and brush-up.

He went to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

            – Did you know that there’s another amputee living here, Robert? He lives on the second floor. His name’s Timothy.

            – Tim Watson? He’s an amputee? I didn’t know that.

            – He has a false hand. You know, like a leather glove thing.

            – Really? Strange I’ve never noticed. Still, I wasn’t really looking. Where did you see him?

            – A little while ago in the hallway. He was just coming in. He said he’d been watching me in the garden on my peg legs.

            – Well, if you make a spectacle of yourself, Raymond, you must expect the neighbours to be curious. Haha! Only joking. But seriously, do you want other people to look at you when you are out and about?

            – Of course I do! That’s why I wanted another peg leg.

            – You are a sly devil, Ray. You surprise me sometimes.

            – I was going to ask you something. Do you think I should shave?

            – You have a nice velvety face, Ray. I like to look at you when you’re sitting in front of a light and your fuzz glows. It makes you very handsome. But I suppose it is about time for you to start shaving regularly. Have you got a razor?

            – Not with me. I don’t even know where to buy one.

            – We’ll go into Hammersmith tomorrow and have a look around the shops. Is that soon enough?

            – I suppose so.

 

Robert finished his wash and put on a clean woolly jumper. It made him look boyish.

            – Is that how you are going to greet our guest, Ray? Football shorts?

            – I want to show Peter my wooden legs. And I want him to show me how his hook works, so it’s tit for tat.

            – Alright. I was only going to say if you want to change you’d better get a move on. He’ll be here soon. I’m looking forward to having a beer.

There was a single heavy knock on the front door.

            – That’ll be him now.

Robert walked down the hallway and opened the door to his guest. They shook hands.

            – Come in, Pete. Welcome to our humble abode. I can hear you’ve brought something to drink. You needn’t have.

            – Well, the more the merrier, I always say. Hello, Ray. How are you doing?

            – Hello, Peter. I’m fine. It’s nice to see you again.

Peter took his army surplus jacket off. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt, exposing his artificial arm.

            – Sit down, mate. What’ll you have?

            – Take these and put them with yours. I’ll have a pale ale, please.

            – Ray, cider?

            – Yes please.

            – Something tells me, Ray, that you are not of drinking age.

            – Don’t tell anyone! I had a cider yesterday.

            – Did you, now? And did you like it?

            – Yes, it was quite nice.

            – Alright. I can see we’ll have to keep an eye on you. Don’t want you getting drunk and running riot about the place.

            – Haha! I shan’t be running anywhere. Peter, thank you for helping last weekend. I’m really grateful.

            – Thank you, Ray. It gave me the opportunity to meet you. Think nothing more of it.

            – Here you are, Pete. Cheers! Ray? Here you are. Don’t gulp it.

            – I’ve arranged with my manager that he’ll handle business tomorrow. I’ve got two days off! I haven’t had such a long holiday for ages. Back to work at four in the morning on Monday.

            – Why do you have to work every day, Peter?

            – Well, I’m a greengrocer so we have to have fresh stuff every single day. The customers would soon start shopping somewhere else if I served them stale produce. So every morning I have to go and buy fresh veggies and fruit and take them back to the shop and put them on display before the shop opens at nine.

            – That sounds like a lot of work.

            – It’s alright when you get used to it. The worst thing is the funny hours. I usually go to bed at nine in the evening when other people are just starting theirs.

            – We’re lucky in that respect. We work pretty much the same time as the factories along the route. Not much point delivering them stuff in the middle of the night.

            – Raymond, have you heard when you might be going back to work? You seem to be fairly agile again. I have to say, your legs are fascinating. They are real wood, aren’t they? Yeah. I’ve never seen wooden legs before. The other artificial legs I’ve seen are all aluminium.

            – I think I can just write to tell them I’m ready to come back and they’ll take me on again. And I have something to show you. I kept it a secret, Robert. Sorry.

Ray got out of his chair and fetched his stump boots from the corner of the room.

            – What the dickens! Ray! You’ve been to Hillingdon today, haven’t you? Sly bugger!

            – Sorry, Robert. I wanted it to be a surprise.

Without another word, Robert and Peter watched as Ray undid the lacing on his thigh sockets and pulled his wooden legs off. He grabbed the right boot and pulled it onto his stump. He tightened the laces around the top edge of the boot and repeated the process with his left boot. He looked at his audience with tremendous satisfaction and slid off the chair to stand on the stump boots.

            – They look astonishing. I’ve never seen anything like that before.

Ray kicked his right stump forward and made a short tour around the room.

            – Those are the boots you’ve been waiting for, aren’t they? You’ll be able to come back to work now, Ray. Well done, you sly old fox.

Ray returned to his armchair and pulled himself into it. The rigid boots stuck out in front of him.

            – You don’t mind that I didn’t tell you when you got home, do you, Robert?

            – No. It’s quite alright. How do they feel?

            – It’s like someone is hugging my thighs all the time. And I don’t have to try to use my knees at all like I do with the legs.

            – That bulge at the back holds your stump, doesn’t it? They’ve made them a good shape, though, haven’t they? A nice wide base. They look very sturdy. Are you going to wear them in public or just at work? They do look very shocking.

            – I might wear them in the mornings if I go to the baker’s for some bread.

            – Oh, you won’t need to do that every day, Ray. That was a mishap this morning. Are you going to keep them on for the rest of the evening?

            – Yes, I think I will. They’re very comfortable. Peter, can I ask you something?

            – Of course. I can guess what it is.

            – Well, will you show me how you make the hook open and close? I don’t understand how it works.

Peter scooted round in his chair so Ray could see the harness.

            – You see this harness? It goes around my shoulders. And there’s a ring at the back. Can you see it? Right. And there’s a steel cable attached to it. And then that runs down my arm to the hook and when I stretch my arm a little bit, the cable stays in place but my arm moves and it pulls the hook open. See? Or if I feel really lazy, I just shrug my shoulder and it pulls on the cable and opens the hook. I don’t need to close it myself. It does that by itself.

            – It must be very strong. You were carrying furniture last week.

            – Yes, it’s quite strong. I need it strong to carry boxes of apples, for example, but if I try to hold a banana, the hook will squash it.

            – Can’t you make it a bit weaker so it doesn’t squash things?

            – No, not easily anyway. It is what it is.

            – Well, that’s very interesting. I think I understand now. Thank you for explaining.

 

Their conversations continued until Ray announced he was feeling really sleepy after three ciders and he excused himself. He stumped out to the wc and brushed his teeth in the sink.

            – I’m sorry. I just can’t keep awake.

            – Go to bed, Ray. Don’t worry about it. Good night, mate.

Ray wished them good night and waddled along to his room.

            – He’s left his wooden lallies. Won’t he need them?

Robert looked at Peter in surprise.

            – He’ll do alright on his batts. Peter, I didn’t know.

            – I was hoping. Shall we?

            – Yes. Shall we have another drink first?

            – Let’s.

Robert handed two bottles of pale ale to Peter who opened them with his hook. It was his party trick and a useful one in the present circumstances. He shrugged his harness off and removed the socket. His phallic forearm stump looked very promising and Robert eyed it.

            – Can’t do much with my leg stump, mate.

            – I’ll enjoy seeing it, though.

Robert pushed the convertible sofa flat and threw a cushion across for a pillow. The couple went to the outhouse together. Robert brushed his teeth, undressed and removed his artificial leg. He hopped to bed.

            – Come on, Peter. I want to feel you.

Peter lay down facing Robert and fondled his face and chest with his stump. Robert’s stump massaged Pete’s legs. Both men had insistent erections and after more foreplay, Robert entered Peter and gently fucked him, kneading the prostate, enjoying the warmth, ejaculating in a triumphant orgasm. Shortly after, exhausted by their exhilaration, they slept entwined in each other’s arms.

 

Peter woke first. He could hear movement from the next room and guessed Ray had got up and was donning his boots or something. He whispered to Robert.

            – Time to get up. Ray’s awake. Better not let him see us together.

            – No, you’re right. How are you feeling?

            – I’m alright. I need a pee.

Robert rolled to the side of the convertible and donned his leg. He glanced at the sheets. They would need to got to the laundry. He pulled the blanket to hide the mess as Ray stumped in wearing his underwear and stump boots. It was a shocking image.

            – Good morning, Ray. Sleep well? I hope you haven’t got a hangover.

            – No, I’m alright. I haven’t ever had a hangover.

            – Lucky man. Listen, Peter is still here, so you’d better make yourself decent if you don’t want him to see you like that.

            – It’s alright. He knows what I look like. Is he outside?

            – Yes. I’ll get breakfast going. What do you want? Cereal or toast?

            – I’ll have the same as Peter just to make it easier.

            – Good lad.

Ray saw Peter’s artificial arm with its hook on the table and went to inspect it more closely. It had a smooth pink socket which didn’t exactly match human skin. The leather biceps cuff looked well worn but the steel rivets and cable were shiny. It looked intriguing. What would it be like to use a hook instead of your fingers to do things? Peter came back in.

            – Hello, Ray. Checking my arm, are you? You can pick it up and feel it, if you want to. You can’t break it.

            – I was wondering – can you feel anything with this hook?

            – No, no. The only way I know if it’s touching anything is if I look to see. I can imagine what something feels like, though. I do touch things sometimes, even if I know I won’t feel them. Now it’s about time I put it on. Where’s the stump sock? There.

He pulled the long white sock on and put his right arm through the harness. He slid his stump into the socket, shrugged his shoulders and tested the hook a couple of times.

            – All set and ready. Didn’t take long, did it?

            – No. I think it looks really wizard.

            – Good show. Let’s have some breakfast.

They had toast and marmalade with two mugs of tea.

            – When are you going back to work, Ray?

            – Yes, you ought to let Mr Lewis know you’re ready to return. It gives them a chance to get you back on the books. I expect he’ll give you a date and time for your first shift. We could write a letter together if you’re not sure what to put.

            – That would be good.

Robert cleared the breakfast table. Peter showed no sign of leaving. He had found the copy of Reach For The Sky which Ray had discarded and was engrossed in it.

            – Shall we go into Hammersmith today, Ray? Try to find you a razor like we said.

            – I could come with you if you’re going to Hammersmith. I left my van at the back of the shop so I could collect it early.

            – Right. That’s settled.

            – Going to start shaving, are you, Ray? You’ll be looking tip-top when you go back to work.

            – Yes. I was wondering about what trousers I can wear with these stump boots.

            – Ask your mum to shorten a pair of your trousers for you if you don’t have any smart shorts. Your football shorts are fine at home but they don’t look very smart on the street. Just cut the legs off and sew a new hem.

            – Yes. I’ll ask her tomorrow at lunch.

            – We visit Ray’s parents every Sunday for a roast dinner.

            – Very nice. Ray, are you going to wear your boots for shopping?

            – Do you think my legs would be better?

            – Yes, I do. I like to see you walking with your wooden legs. You have a very manly swagger which looks good on a bloke as young as you.

            – Really? I’ve never thought about that. That’s good! Thank you for saying that. I’ll put my legs on, then.

Peter watched Ray undo a few laces on his boots and pull them off. He stood them by his chair and reached across for his artificial legs. It took much longer to tighten the lacing up the thigh cuffs.

            – Now I’d better get dressed. See you in a minute.

He went to his room and found a loose fitting pair of beige trousers and a clean white shirt. He found his jacket and counted how much money he had in the pockets. Ten and six. It might be enough for a razor.

            – You look very presentable, Ray.

Ray thought Peter might also be impressed if he saw him smoking a pipe. His big billiard still had quite a lot of tobacco in it. He picked it up off the windowsill which had become the storage place for their tobacco paraphernalia and clenched it between his teeth. He struck a match and sucked the sweet Cavendish into his lungs and let out a stream of blue smoke. He took the pipe from his jaw and half sat, half fell back into his chair and put the pipe back in his mouth.

            – That’s a wonderful pipe, Ray. Have you been smoking long?

            – A few weeks. Robert bought this one for me. He’s been teaching me to smoke a pipe. It’s something I wanted to do, you see.

            – Seeing you looking so handsome with your pipe makes me want to take up a pipe, too. Maybe I will. We could be three pipe smokers altogether.

Robert had been listening to Ray and Pete chatting. He was pleased they were getting on. It was difficult for a young chap like Ray to talk to older men sometimes. Ray had definitely gained in self confidence in the few weeks he had lived away from home. He was gaining in initiative too. But Pete had better be warned against getting too familiar. Ray was still well under the age of consent despite his rollicking gait and pipe smoking. It sounded like Pete thought Ray was older than he actually was. Robert had come to think of Ray as a younger brother and was becoming protective. Ray was lucky to have someone looking out for him, although he did not realise yet how valuable Robert’s custody was.

            – I have another pipe which Ed at work gave me when I was still in hospital. I haven’t smoked it yet. Would you like to try it?

            – That is very kind of you, Ray, but I think you should keep it special for yourself. I can buy a pipe this morning if we go past a tobacconist’s. Will you help me choose a suitable one?

Ray looked at Peter in wonder. It must be wonderful to have the money to just buy what you wanted when you wanted it. And he wanted Ray’s advice about pipe-smoking!

            – Alright. Yes, I’d love to help you buy a new pipe.

He sucked his own billiard for one last lungful and reached back to put it on the table.

            – Pete! Are you ready to make tracks? You better put your jacket on. It’s a chilly morning. Let me get mine and we can go.

They crossed the street and boarded a two sixty for Hammersmith. Peter paid for the fares.

            – I usually always try to sit upstairs at the front. It seemed strange to be downstairs.         

            – Well, it’s not hard to imagine why Ray and me like to sit downstairs. The stairs on buses are too poky even for me to climb them comfortably. And I have to say, it’s nice not to sit in everyone else’s cigarette smoke.

            – I suppose so. How do you like these new buses? I liked the trolleys much better. They were bigger and quieter and faster. The only trouble was that they couldn’t overtake.

            – Yeah, it was a nuisance when you were trying to get somewhere and you had to wait an extra ten minutes for a driver somewhere to get the pole up again, even if it wasn’t your bus.

            – I always felt like I was in someone’s living room. Maybe it’s because they were so quiet and you could hear other people’s conversations. These are so loud you can’t hear yourself think.

            – Well, that’s progress for you. Here’s Soper’s. Shall we get off and see what they have in the men’s department?

They did. Peter offered his arm to Ray who took it gratefully. It was odd for other shoppers to see two men walking arm in arm until they noticed that one of them had problems with his legs. Poor kid.

            – Men’s department, second floor. I hope there’s a lift.

There was. They found a glass counter which held several razors and lotions inside it.

            – Can you see one you like the look of, Ray? This one looks the business. And we’ll get you a shaving brush as well. We can share shaving soap. Oh, there’s a complete set here with everything. Shall we get that?

It cost nineteen and eleven pence.

            – I haven’t got that much money.

            – Ray, this is my treat. Save your money, mate. I’ll get this.

            – That’s good of you, Pete.

A tall, very slim shop assistant with a teddy boy quiff asked if he could be of assistance. Peter pointed out the shaving kit Ray had chosen and held out a pound note in his hook. The shop assistance recoiled and his face reflected his revulsion.

            – Control yourself, man! At least until you’re out of our sight.

            – I apologise, sir.

Peter kept his artificial arm out, waiting for his penny change to be placed between the fingers of his hook and let it snap shut. He transferred it to his natural hand and picked up a brown paper bag from the counter in his hook.

            – Many thanks. Good bye.

 

            – Well said! He looked like he was sucking on a lemon.

            – People sometimes act strangely when they see my hook. It’s the same thing in my shop. I’m sure there are several old ladies who used to come in until they noticed my hook. Then they were too disconcerted to come back. But there are people who come in just to watch me using it. You can tell from their eyes what they’re looking at. Now, let’s see. Raymond is going to take us to the tobacconist’s section to see if they have any nice pipes.

Ray glanced at Peter’s smiling face.

            – Let’s go! Where is it?

            – Ground floor. Tobacconist’s are always on the ground floor so people can pop in quickly to buy cigarettes.

            – There it is. They don’t have many nice pipes, do they? These look like they were made by children in nineteen twenty. Let’s go to a proper tobacconist. I know a very good one in the town centre but we’ll have to go on the tube.

            – Well, I don’t mind a trip into town. How about you, Ray? Do you think you can manage?

            – I think so. If not, I’ll grab onto Peter again.

            – Ha! Yes, grab on to my hook. Shall we go? I’ll pay the fare again, don’t worry. My treat.

They descended to the Piccadilly platform on an escalator. Ray was a little unsure about being able to keep his balance but managed well enough. The train arrived, opened its doors and slammed them shut. Ray had not yet reached a seat and the sudden acceleration threw him off his feet onto the lap of a man not much older than himself.

            – Hey! Watch it, mate!

            – Oh sorry. I’m very sorry.

            – Take it easy. What’s the matter with you?

            – Wooden legs.

Robert had already gripped his arm and Ray rose and spun around to sit in the empty seat next to his startled new acquaintance.

            – You’re telling me you’ve got wooden legs?

            – Yeah. Do you want to see them?

            – Go on then.

Ray pulled his trouser legs up to expose a good few inches of shiny wood. An older gentleman sitting opposite watched them in derision. Youth these days! No sense of decorum.

            – Well, I’ll be buggered.

Ray sniggered.

            – Where are you going, mate?

            – I don’t actually know. Peter, where are we going?

            – Piccadilly Circus.

            – Do you mind if I join you? I’ve always wanted to have a mate who had a wooden leg. Can I come with you? My name’s Dennis. You can call me Den.

            – I’m Ray and that’s Robert and that’s Peter. We’re going shopping, I think.

Robert looked at the lanky teenager who had been instantly smitten by Ray’s vulnerability and his artificial limbs. He knew exactly what was running through Dennis’s mind. He would allow it until things started to get out of hand, if they did. The next station was Piccadilly. Robert watched Dennis jump up and stand in front of Ray, helping him to his feet, ready to catch him if Ray toppled. Dennis held onto Ray’s shoulders until the train stopped. Robert was impressed.

            – There might be a few stairs at the top, Ray. Tell us if you need a hand.

There were steps. The Underground was full of steps. Ray had not travelled on the Underground very often, but he certainly did not remember that there were stairs everywhere, seemingly quite useless. Going up stairs only to go down more stairs after ten yards. Peter walked beside him on one side and Dennis looked at Ray’s face to see if he was having difficulty.

            – Dennis, you are being very helpful there. Have you been around amputees before?

            – No, not really. I don’t know if I should say this but I’ve always wanted to lose a leg or an arm. I think it’s wizard to have an artificial limb and learn to use so other people see it and wonder at it. Does that sound sick? So I like to see other people using their artificial limbs and imagine that it’s me instead.

            – Have you realised yet that Robert and me are amputees too?

            – Oh, no I didn’t know. I’m sorry.

            – Well, don’t be sorry. I have this hook and Robert has a wooden leg like Raymond’s. We quite like it when other people appreciate our little disabilities instead of being disgusted by them. You shouldn’t feel bad. I like the way you are looking out for Raymond. But where were you on the way to? Aren’t we disrupting your journey?

            – No. I wasn’t really going anywhere in particular. I just like to come into town at the weekends and wander around. It’s more interesting that staying at home. I like riding on the Underground.

            – Where do you live?

            – West Ealing.

            – Well, Dennis. I like the way you are helping Ray so I’m pleased to have you along. I don’t mind if you are excited to see amputees. I understand, especially if you want a stump or two of your own.

            – That would be wonderful.

Ray looked at him in amazement. Another young man who wanted stumps. He had never heard of anything like it from another person before.

            – We have to walk up Regent’s Street a way. Then down a side street. When we get to where we’re going, you’re jaws will drop when you see the pipes they have.

Peter guided them to Inderwick’s on Carnaby Street. They made all their own pipes, sometimes in astonishing shapes and sizes. The four of them entered the tiny shop and pored over the pipes behind display cases.

            – I’d like a short fat pipe for when I’m working.

            – Do you like the look of this one, Ray?

Robert pointed to a traditionally shaped billiard like the one he already owned except the stem was about twice as thick and about half the length. It looked astonishing.

            – That is amazing. I could smoke something like that, I’m sure.

            – Pete, look at this one. A black rustic bent pipe with a large bowl. That would suit your face really nicely.

            – I like this one with the long stem.

It was another black rustic pipe about ten inches long. It would look spectacular. Dennis watched the others enthusing about pipes and thought he might join in too. He selected a short thick pipe with a broad stem, and thought he might look cool with it in his teeth.

 

Inderwick’s sold four pipes and a quantity of tobacco along with two pipe tools and some matches. Robert and Dennis paid. Dennis handed the thick short pipe to Ray and said he would like to see Ray smoking it sometime. Ray thanked him, a little embarrassed to be offered a gift by someone so close to his own age.

 

            – That was very kind of you, Dennis. Might I ask what you do for a living?

            – I’m an apprentice carpenter. I work for a company which does cornices and reliefs and all that sort of thing.

            – Does it pay well?

            – Well, I get fifteen pounds a week, less tax of course.

It was an amount twice what Robert earned.

            – Well, that sounds very reasonable.

            – And I’ll get more when I finish my training.

            – It’s skilled work, I suppose. Not many people in woodworking these days.

            – No, there aren’t.

 

They walked back to the tube station and Dennis helped Ray negotiate the steps to the booking hall. Peter paid their fares back to Hammersmith.

            – Are you going back to West Ealing, Dennis?

            – Yes, I suppose so.

            – If you like, you’d be welcome to have lunch with us in Acton.

            – That’s very kind of you.

            – We won’t be going on a bus, though, Dennis. You’ll have to sit in the back of a greengrocer’s van with the old cabbage leaves.

            – Really? That’s alright.

They reached Hammersmith and worked their way to the surface. Peter told them to wait in the vicinity of the station. He had to collect his van and would be ten minutes at most. Dennis and Ray seemed to be bonding, telling each other stories about their schools and what they got up to in their spare time.

            – Do you live with your mum and dad, Dennis?

            – No. they died in a plane crash. You remember the Comet crash? So I was in a foster home until the beginning of this year when I started work and then I got the flat in West Ealing. It’s quite big and I haven’t really got any furniture but it’s home for the time being.

            – I’m sorry to hear about your mum and dad, Dennis. It’s not easy to lose your parents. Ah! There’s Peter’s van. Get ready to climb in. Ray, do you want to go in the front or the back?

            – The front is easier.

            – Alright. Dennis and me can be in the back. Alright, mate?

            – Yes, of course.

Peter stopped his van and jumped out to open the back doors. Ray carefully placed his wooden feet onto the rungs up to the passenger’s seat and Dennis and Robert found comparatively clean spots in the back.

 

            – All set and ready. Pete, can you let me off at the Vale’s shops? I need to get some grub. What shall we have? Pork chops? Chicken? They’re fairly quick to cook. Sausages?

            – Sausage and mash would be fine

            – Anyone else for sausage and mash?

            – Yes please!

            – Ray, show Peter where he can park down the side road.

            – Yes, alright. I will.

 

Robert bought some of the best port sausages the butcher had. He already had some King Edwards at home. He went to a grocers and bought two tins of peas. That should be enough for lunch. for four. He went home and found Ray demonstrating his wooden legs to Dennis. Peter was reading his book again.

            – Aren’t you smoking your new pipes? It’s alright to smoke in here. I don’t mind.

They all fished their new pipes out of their pockets and cleaned the stems by wiping them on their sleeves. Ray’s new fat billiard was really handsome and suited his face very well. He asked Dennis to get the tin of Navy Cut from the windowsill. He opened the tin with a halfpenny and smelt the rich rum scent of the tobacco. He held the tin under Den’s nose. He nodded in appreciation.

            – Show me what to do, Ray.

Ray plucked knurls of tightly twisted tobacco from the tin and ground them between his fingers. Their volume increased and he dropped fragments of tobacco into his new pipe. Dennis repeated what he was doing with his own tobacco. His pipe was broader than Ray’s but just as short. The young men completed their task and placed the pipes into their mouths to test how they felt between their teeth. Ray immediately found the sweet spot. The briar was stable and at a good angle. Dennis had a little trouble. The pipe would not sit comfortably in his mouth. He would have to hold it. Perhaps a narrower pipe might fit him better. Ray struck a match and showed Dennis how to move the flame to and fro to light the top of the tobacco. Robert, peeling potatoes in the scullery, listened with amusement and a degree of pride. He glanced at the two boys with their thick pipes and felt a wave of nostalgia. He had learned to smoke a pipe guided by a man who had helped him when he was of a similar age. Peter watched the boys with half an eye. He would smoke his own churchwarden a little later.

 

They enjoyed the meal, simple though it was. Peter and Robert went out into the garden to inspect some blackberry bushes and for a moment of privacy. They promised to stay in touch. Peter was free every Sunday. So was Robert. The problem was the regular visit to Hayes End. It would have to be Peter. They would have a few hours to make love while Ray was at his parents’.

 

Ray was becoming more extrovert with Dennis. He had taught someone older than himself to smoke a pipe. Next he asked if Dennis would like to see his wooden legs. He rotated himself out of his armchair and stumped off to his room where he dressed in his football shorts and a pullover. He returned to Robert’s quarters and stood in front of Dennis with his arms and legs akimbo.

            – You are so beautiful. I’ve never seen wooden legs before. You are so lucky, Ray. I would love to have wooden legs like those.

            – They are wonderful to wear. I always wanted wooden legs and when I started to work for British Railways, I got the chance.

            – What are you trying to say? The chance for what?

            – Dennis, I put my legs on the rails so I could have wooden legs.

            – That’s amazing. I wish I had the guts to do that.

            – It only hurts for a little while, Dennis. And after that, your whole life with wooden legs! You should try it.

            – Er, we’ll see. Ray, I want to see you again. Do you want to see me?

            – I would love it. You have been such a big help today. And I think you enjoyed helping.

            – I did. It’s true. I would love to see your face and handsome hair and your artificial legs every day. And I have tons of room at home. Would you come and live with me, Ray?

 

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