RAILWAYMAN'S FOOT - REHABILITATION PART 3/4

 

R A I L W A Y M A N ’ S   F O O T :

R E H A B I L I T A T I O N

An improbable tale by strzeka

Dedicated to my friend John P. of Melbourne

 

A suburban tale of disability

The third part of four

 

Prologue

Raymond Martin, a railway signalman and wearer of wooden legs, had moved in with Dennis Wilson, an apprentice carpenter and now a recent amputee sporting two hooks and two tin legs. His former flatmate Robert, a left below knee amputee, was now living with his lover Peter, a left below elbow amputee. Dennis had just been discharged from hospital.

 

APRIL 1962

 

Ray kept his eyes peeled for any sign of a policeman or police car. He was not sure what reprimand he might receive for transporting Dennis. He only knew he was not supposed to be doing it.

            – Are you alright there, Dennis?

            – I’m alright for a few minutes. Is it far?

            – No, we’re at the Iron Bridge. Hold on for another five minutes.

Ray pulled up outside their home and slid the door open. It was fairly dark. He hoped no-one could see Dennis trying to extricate himself from the floor of his Invacar. Dennis flailed his brand new artificial legs in an effort to move, pushing with his hooks as best he could. He sat up in the doorway. Dennis lifted his hooks and Ray pulled him on to his feet. Dennis stretched.

            – That is most definitely not a comfortable way to travel. I don’t recommend it.

            – I was terrified we’d be caught.

            – You’re very law-abiding, Ray. Mr Plod would hardly have dragged me out and told me to walk, would he?

            – No, I suppose not. Is this the only bag you have with you?

            – Yup. Some laundry and my work hooks.

            – Right. Let’s go in. Here are your crutches.

            – Give me one. Can you take the other?

Ray pulled himself up the outside steps by holding on to the railings. Dennis used the crutch in his left hook to push himself from behind. He lunged at successive railings with his right hook and slowly mounted the steps.

            – I need some practice, I think. Dr Young said I would always have trouble on stairs because hooks aren’t good at gripping bannisters.

            – It gets easier after the first few times.

            – Let’s go in and have something to eat.

 

Ray made sandwiches. They took them into the lounge and ate them watching a television current affairs programme. There were scenes of hysterical girls screaming at a concert by the Beatles.

            – Do you like their music, Ray?

            – Yes. I think it’s a change from the usual. I haven’t really heard it very much. We don’t have a radio, do we? Shall we buy one at the weekend? I don’t think they’re very expensive.

            – Yes, let’s get one. I can listen to it while you’re at work.

            – I’m working seven until three this week, by the way. I have to get up early, at five o’clock.

            – It’s alright. I can stay in bed, can’t I?

            – Course you can.

 

It was past ten, time to start preparing for the night. Ray removed his legs and stumped to the bathroom to wash his stumps. He brushed his teeth and peed and went back to see if Dennis needed any help.

            – Can you pull my trousers down? You don’t need to pull them off completely. Just so I can get to the thigh corsets.

Ray did so and watched Dennis pull the bows open and the lacing loose. He knew from his own experience not to offer help. He would give it readily but Dennis would have to ask first.

            – Can you pull my legs off? Thanks.

Dennis wriggled down from the sofa and went to the bathroom. Ray waited for a call.

            – Ray! Can you get my flannel, please?

Ray helped Dennis and saw his stumps for the first time. The septicaemia had ravaged Dennis’s skin beyond the parts lost to amputation. Angry red blotches marred what remained of his legs.

            – Will you wear your arms to bed or shall we do your arm stumps now?

            – Let’s get it all done.

Sitting on the floor, Dennis raised his artificial arms above his head and the harness rose with them. He shrugged the arms off himself and Ray washed his arm stumps. His arms were also patchy with reddish scarring.

            – Not such a pretty sight, is it?

            – Are they sore? Do they hurt you?

            – No, not any more. They were very tender at the beginning. I suppose it’s just something I’ll have to live with. No-one can see it when I’m wearing my limbs anyway. It’s only you, Ray. I’m sorry you have to see it.

            – It’s alright. Do you want me to brush your teeth?

            – Yes, please. Then time for bed.

The two amputees stumped across to their bedroom and climbed onto their bed. They clung to each other as if for dear life and slept that way until morning.

 

Ray had been gone for three hours when Dennis got out of bed. He stumped across to the bathroom and relieved himself into a milk bottle. He poured the urine into the toilet bowl. He would not be able to reach the basin to wash his face until he had his legs on and first he had to don his arms. Ray had hung them at waist height from one of the hooks he had recently bought. Dennis shrugged into them, knowing he would soon need to remove them again to put a T-shirt on. He stumped to the lounge and pulled on his artificial legs and trousers combination. He returned to the bathroom and used a warm flannel as best he could to swipe his eyes and face and armpits. He found a clean T-shirt in his closet. He doffed his arms, put the shirt on and donned his stump socks and arms again. Time for breakfast. He wanted coffee. The coffee tin had a screw cap. His hooks would not open far enough to grasp it, so he dampened a tea towel and put the tin on it. He threw another damp towel over the lid and used his hooks to persuade the lid to shift. It did. Carefully, by tilting and poking and sliding, Dennis succeeded in making some coffee. The kettle’s tubular handle was too round. The coffee container was inconvenient. He decided to remedy all the deficiencies and difficulties he came across. He would write them down, think about them and come up with a solution. He found a pencil and paper and carefully, slowly, wrote his ideas.

 

He wanted mashed potatoes with his lunch of fried liver and peas but he was unable to use the peeler. He washed the potatoes and boiled them in their skins until they were soft. He crushed them and picked off most of the skin with the tip of a hook. Crushed potatoes tasted the same as mashed. He was pleased with himself. He put the plate into the sink and hit the tap until it released a gush of water. It was easier to turn it off. Dennis went into the lounge and looked along his bookshelf for a book he might reread. He found a copy of East of Eden and settled himself on the sofa. He was continually distracted from the text by the unfamiliar hooks he was holding the book with. He tried to ignore them until he needed to turn a page. He reached page thirteen before he fell asleep.

 

He woke up a couple of hours later after dreaming of being the bowler in a cricket match. He had been using his hooks to bowl. He looked at them and smirked. He used them to push himself up and went to the toilet. He could unzip his trousers but the rest of the process was difficult. He managed to pry his penis out of his underwear and pointed it downwards. Sweet relief. His underwear was a nuisance. What if he stopped wearing underpants and wore only his trousers or shorts? He would try it tomorrow. He wandered in to the bedroom with the idea of removing them now but was struck by the idea of wearing Ray’s peg leg. He had already tried it out, pretending. Ray had one at work, was probably wearing it right now, but it would be fun to try wearing the peg to see what it felt like on a real stump. He plucked it out of Ray’s closet and sat on the bed. That was no good. He would have to stand to get his trousers down and his leg off. Maybe he should ask Ray first. He decided to wait until Ray arrived home and they could try it together.

 

Dennis looked through his wardrobe. He owned several pairs of long sleeved shirts which he liked. The sleeves were in the way now. They were inconvenient. He wondered if he could have them altered to short sleeved versions. It would make life a little easier and had the additional benefit of displaying his artificial arms. He looked at the pink sockets and tried imagining them painted with aluminium paint or with black glossy enamel. Perhaps black gloss would look better. Perhaps they could go to the DIY shop in Southall on Saturday to buy some. On the other hand, he had every day free for the next two weeks. There was nothing stopping him from going to Southall himself. He may be severely disabled in anyone else’s eyes but he was certainly not incapable. That was something to do the next day. He imagined himself paying his fare on the bus. What was the best way to handle money with hooks? A shopkeeper or someone similar would have to give him one coin at a time. He might not be able to deal with a handful of cash. He wrote wallet on his list of necessary things.

 

They needed a stool in the bathroom as soon as possible. He thought he could probably make one fairly easily. Perhaps he could ask Stapleton if he could come into work next week to practise using his hooks before he returned to work. And he could make the stool for test purposes. They both needed seating in the bedroom too. Maybe a long bench with cupboard space underneath. They could store their stump socks in it so they would always be to hand when dressing. He would phone Stapleton tomorrow after discussing it with Ray first.

 

Dennis read his book again until Ray arrived home.

            – I was thinking about going back to work early. What do you think of that?

            – That’s fine with me. You want to test your hooks with the tools, don’t you?

            – Yes. I thought I could try making a stool for the bathroom. We wouldn’t need to sit on the floor.

            – Good idea.

            – I’ve been making a list of the things which I have found difficult. Oh, I’ve decided to paint these sockets black after all. I think I’d prefer that than aluminium. So I’m going to the shop in Southall tomorrow to get some black paint. And then I thought about handling money on the bus.

            – So what did you decide?

            – Well, I need a new wallet. Something which shopkeepers can drop my change into. I’ve been practising with a couple of coins this afternoon. Transferring them from one hook to the other without dropping them. There’s something else I wanted to ask you. Is it alright if I try walking on one of your peg legs?

            – Of course it is. You can’t break it, can you? Do you want to try it now? I’ll get it. Pull your trousers down.

Ray went to his closet and pulled his peg leg out. Dennis was still trying to open his belt.

            – Tell me if you want some help.

            – Yeah, go ahead. The hooks keep slipping.

            – Maybe I should put another rubber band on them. How many are on them now?

            – Three, I think.

            – Four would be better. I’ll do it in a minute. Right, which leg do you want the peg on?

            – Left, please.

Ray undid the lacing of Dennis’s left leg and removed the entire artificial limb from the trouser leg. He picked up the peg and fed it down Dennis’s trouser leg.

            – This is easier if you stand up. Hang on.

Ray pulled Dennis up and fitted the peg leg to Dennis’s stump. He tightened all the belts and pulled Dennis’s trousers up again.

            – One more belt. And there you are!

Dennis spread his artificial arms to find his balance on the primitive peg leg. He swung it round and placed it eighteen inches in front of him. Leaning over it, he brought his artificial leg forward and maintained the rhythm. He walked around the empty space in the lounge and stopped facing Ray.

            – This feels incredible! I feel so secure! Ray, can I keep it on and use it tomorrow?

            – Yes, of course you can. Mine is at work and you know I’d rather wear my stump boots at home.

            – I’m going to make us new peg legs when I get back to work. We don’t need the waist belt, do we?

            – I don’t think so. I never felt that the peg would fall off if I didn’t have the belt on.

            – Good. I’m going to make us peg legs with just six inches of peg. They’ll be a lot like stump boots but rigid. Imagine us walking down the street together wearing two peg legs each!

            – Or better still, sitting in our Invacars with our pegs sticking out in front of us.

            – We’ll have to practise in here first. Learning to balance on pegs.

            – It’s not so difficult. I can walk on two full length pegs. Not very far, but it’s not impossible.

            – I’d love to see that, Ray.

 

Next morning, Dennis carefully descended the marble steps outside his flat and walked to the main road. His peg leg felt exactly right. It was better than he had imagined it would feel. It was different to actually use it outside on the street compared with strutting around the lounge. There was a sturdiness to it he had not appreciated before. His first stop was at a cobbler’s which also sold other leather items. He wanted a purse or wallet which would make handling coins easier. There was one useful design and he bought it. He received a penny change and put it into the new wallet together with as much of the loose change in his pocket as he could manage to extract with a hook. The cobbler watched the process with interest.

 

Dennis had wanted to go to Southall to buy some black enamel paint but was in two minds whether to try boarding a bus while wearing a peg leg. He would either have to stand inside for ten minutes or sit sideways on the long bench by the rear platform. In addition, he was not at all sure that he would be able to board the bus. It would be difficult to pull himself up. He decided against it and returned homewards, stopping only to buy some groceries from the Co-op.

 

He made some coffee and drank it from one of the new glasses. He went into the lounge and telephoned Stapleton’s. Marjorie McCall answered.

            – Oh, hello Dennis. How are you?

            – I’m fine, thanks. I am just about ready to come back to work. I wanted to ask Mr Stapleton about the timetable.

            – Yes, of course. I’ll put you through now.

            – Stapleton.

            – Hello, Mr Stapleton. This is Dennis Wilson. I was wondering if I could come into work next week for a couple of days, perhaps. I want to test my abilities with the tools, you see.

            – That sounds like a good idea, Dennis. Why don’t you come on Monday and Tuesday to start with?

            – Yes, I will. I was hoping I could try making a stool from offcuts. We need one in the bathroom, you see.

            – Well, if you can find some suitable bits, you’re welcome to use them. It’ll be good practice, won’t it?

            – Yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking.

            – Good show. See you on Monday morning then, Dennis. Come in when you feel like it.

            – Thank you very much. Bye.

He had not mentioned the short pegs which he and Ray wanted to try but they were at the front of his mind.

 

Ray arrived home in late afternoon. Dennis reported his early return to work and the fact that he had found boarding a bus too great a challenge.

            – It’s not a good idea to wear a peg leg on a bus because you might not be able to sit down. Wear both your tin legs. Also, if you wear your work hooks, you’ll be able to grab the pole better when you get on. Give it a try tomorrow. Go and buy that paint. You’ll have to get on buses next week anyway if you’re going to Stapleton’s.

            – True. I was thinking of making that stool or bench for the bathroom so we don’t have to sit on the floor. Do you feel up to drawing some sketches for me?

            – Why not? I’ll get my art book.

Ray returned with his sketch pad, pencils and a ruler. He sat next to Dennis.

            – Do you know what sort of wood you can use?

            – No, and I don’t know how long the bits are. We never throw any of the larger cut-offs away. They always come in useful for something. Now, let’s see. How high do we need the seat to be?

            – Tall enough so we can access the basin taps and low enough to slide off easily.

            – So about as tall as the length of our thighs. How long is that?

            – About fifteen inches. And about forty-five wide and thirty to forty deep.

            – I was thinking of having slats instead of one solid seat. They would dry faster if they get wet, wouldn’t they?

            – Yes, good idea. And what sort of legs? Square? Round?

            – I’ll see what they have.

            – And can the front edge at least be rounded off so it doesn’t cut into our legs?

            – Or even all the edges. Yes, can you draw the front and side plans with the measurements?

Ray set to work. He drew a scale diagram a tenth life-size and a perspective drawing of the bench. With any luck, it would be a useful addition to their home and would make legless life a little more comfortable.

 

            – Do you still feel up to drawing some more?

            – Yes, what were you thinking of?

            – Our new peg legs!

            – Oh yes! Well, as we’re both sitting here, we can work out what size we need. I think we could get away with having them all the same size, don’t you? In fact, we could take some of the measurements from the old pegs.

            – Just pull my trousers off. We have one here.

Dennis loosened his trousers and unbuckled his peg leg. Ray lifted it onto the table and set about jotting down its dimensions.

            – I need to make the pegs in three or four pieces, I think. The struts either side need to be bolted onto the knee shelf somehow. And the peg has to be fixed to that.

            – It wouldn’t have to be round, either. It could just as well be rectangular.

            – What sort of pegs do we want? How about putting little feet on the end, wooden blocks or something like that?

            – Yes, they might be a good idea. Let me do some sketches. Then we can choose the bits we like most.

Dennis left Ray to work alone and made a pot of coffee. He looked at the taps and thought about a way to add a long lever to make them easier to turn on with a hook. He might be able to make something at work.

 

They sipped their espressos and Ray added finishing touches to his drawing. Dennis had never been any good at illustration but his technical drawing skills had been top notch. He looked carefully over Ray’s projections and good-naturedly pointed out a missing dimension. Ray added it.

            – I can show this to Mr Patterson so he knows how much material I’ll be using. I don’t want to take advantage of him. Do you still feel up to drawing? Shall we design our new peg legs next?

            – Yes, let’s carry on. Tell me what you have in mind and I’ll try to draw it.

Dennis explained how he could duplicate the struts which were part of the existing pegs. The outer strut would be shorter, reaching hip level but no higher.

            – The struts need to be fixed to the knee shelf really securely. I think about six inches with three or four steel bolts holding them in place should be enough. What about the peg itself? How about a round base about four inches in diameter? The upper bit where your knee rests could be square and it would taper to being round at the bottom. Do you see?

            – Yes. Like this?

Dennis’s description became visible in Ray’s hands.

            – What do you think? Would you like to wear short pegs like that?

            – I think they’d be very good around the flat. We could get some thick rubber from somewhere and glue it on the base, like on my stump boots.

            – Good idea. Can you draw a side view, a top view and a bottom view? We should do it to scale. I’ll measure this peg.

Dennis slid Ray’s ruler to the edge of the table and gripped it in a hook. He read off the few measurements needed and Ray noted them. He returned the ruler. The new drawings were one third life size.

            – We’ll have to work out how we’re going to attach the pegs, too. We could buy some leather belts and use those, I suppose.

            – That would be the easiest way. Are we ready with these drawings now?

            – I think so. Thanks, Ray.

            – Before I forget, can you change my right hook, please? I’ve decided I’m going to try getting on a bus tomorrow using a work hook.

            – Yes, I’m sure it would be better. Where are your spare hooks?

            – In my closet in a cubbyhole.

            – I’ll get it.

Dennis put his elbow onto the tabletop and Ray unscrewed the ordinary Hosmer Five hook. The work hook was larger and heavier and the fingers curved in such a way that they would easily grip the round handle of a spade or hoe – or the pole in the middle of a bus’s rear platform.

            – Take one of my string bags tomorrow if you want. Dennis, how do you feel now on your tin legs?

            – You mean, how do I feel about walking? I’m aware of it all the time. I have to look at the pavement and where I’m walking all the time. I remember you saying something similar. But the legs themselves are fine. I trust them, as long as I remember the rule about ‘heel first’.

            – It’s a pity you can’t really use a walking stick. I like using mine.

            – Yes, it’s a shame my hooks don’t grip them very well. You look very distinguished with yours. It really suits you. A young man with a walking stick in nineteen sixty-two! Forty years after they were fashionable!

            – I don’t use it to be fashionable, though, do I? It’s odd how some people look at me sometimes. But no-one has ever said anything.

            – No, people don’t think it’s any business of theirs to pry into someone’s private life like that. It would show a very poor upbringing. I get quite a few stares because of my hooks. They’re always on display, unlike my tin legs.

            – Do you mind people staring?

            – No. People are curious when they see something unusual. And my hooks are unusual. But people also know immediately what has happened – ‘oh, the poor boy has lost his hands’. With something like crutches or a walking stick, they are curious to know what happened to make them necessary. Especially if they can’t see a leg cast.

            – Have you ever had a leg cast or broken your arm?

            – No. I’ve been lucky so far. How about you?

            – Nope. The only time I’ve been in hospital was to have my stumps sewn up. I wonder what it would feel like to have plaster casts over our stumps? Would we be able to walk on them, do you think, or would we have to use a wheelchair?

            – It depends on what was broken, I suppose, and on the shape of the bottom of the cast. It would only be a little short thing, after all. Unless they wrapped a lot of extra plaster bandage around it and stuck one of those rubber heel things in the bottom. Then we could walk on them.

            – I suppose so. It might be fun to try.

            – I don’t want to break a bone just to be able to try that!

            – No, I mean wearing casts without the broken bones.

            – Just pretending? I get you. What an odd idea. It might be fun, though. Just imagine! Two white stumps to walk on!

            – I want to try it!

            – I have no idea about getting plaster bandages or how much we would need or where to get them. But if you can find out, we could try it.

            – How about your hooks? Do you miss your hands?

            – Yes, of course I do. But I don’t think ‘Oh, I wish I hadn’t lost my hands’. I remember telling you once that I wished I had a hook. I always thought it looked so good on a man. Something special. I didn’t ever think about having two. But, no, I don’t get upset when I can’t do something. I think about what the best way would be using my hooks to do what I want. Sometimes it means changing the way I do things, and sometime it means the thing I want to do needs to be changed. Do you see? My hooks are part of me now. They’re my hands. If I can think of something or design something which makes my life easier, I’m interested in trying it out. Like I was just thinking about our kitchen taps. Some kind of lever I could slot over them would make it easier.

            – Shall I make some more drawings?

            – Yes!  This is the sort of thing I was thinking.

Dennis described his idea and Ray sketched it. The tap tool could be made from a nine inch long piece of wood fitted with four lengths of dowel. It would not be a permanent fixture. It could be lifted from one tap to another as needed and would solve the problem Dennis would always face when confronted with something which relied on rotation to work. Dennis took Ray’s ruler over to the sink and measured the relevant dimensions. Ray produced top and side views at life size.

            – I think that’s going to work. What else are we going to come up with?

 

Dennis donned both tin legs next morning and went for a pee. His arm stumps were slightly too short to reach his penis without bending over so he sat instead. He filled the basin with hot water and washed his face and armpits with a soapy flannel which naturally flopped over his arm stump. He returned to the bedroom and put his trousers on without underwear, and a clean white T-shirt. Next he donned his artificial arms. The pink arms whose colour he disliked. Today might be the last day he had to see them. He had decided to buy the gloss paint and ask Ray to paint both of them when he came home. He could sit in the lounge in the evening without his hooks. The paint would dry overnight and with any luck, one coat would be enough. Tomorrow he would have shiny black arms and would feel better about wearing them.

 

Ray always left a few breakfast things out for him if he had an early shift. There was an upturned plate covering a couple of thick slices of bread, butter, and some sliced sausage or cheese wrapped in greaseproof paper. Dennis could easily make open sandwiches and he brewed a pot of coffee enough for two mugs. The flat was silent and he was reminded of their decision to buy a radio. He could look for one in Southall.

 

Breakfast eaten, legs and hooks ready, he made his way down the seven hated steps outside and around the corner to the bus stop. A two-o-seven pulled in immediately and the conductress noticed a steel hook grasping the white pole.

            – You OK, love? Need any help?

            – I think I can do this, thanks.

Dennis swung his right leg onto the platform and trusted in his hook. He pulled his left leg onto the platform and smiled at the conductress.

            – Sit yourself here. Where to, love?

            – The stop after Southall Town Hall.

            – Sixpence please.

Dennis had not had time to pluck any money from his new wallet. It was in his jacket pocket. He explained to the conductress who gently felt inside his jacket for the wallet, more like a purse, and held it in front of Dennis so he could see what she was doing. She shook out some change and found a sixpence.

            – Here we are. Here’s your wallet… and here’s your ticket.

            – Thank you for helping. That was kind of you.

            – Don’t mention it, love. All in a day’s work.

 

Dennis lowered himself carefully onto the pavement outside Woolworth’s. Dennis went in close behind another customer who kindly held the door for him. Dennis did not believe he could open the heavy glass door himself just yet. He had been thinking about his new short pegs and the shape of the base. Ray had more or less settled on circular feet but Dennis wanted to experiment and thought about something more resembling a foot. He thought about the shape produced by placing two large rubber heels together, facing each other. The foot would be about three inches wide and six inches long.. He found the counter with footwear accessories and picked out four solid rubber heels, half an inch thick, size thirteen. Doubled up, they made a good sized sole for a peg leg. He paid for them and went to see if there were any rubber mats which could be cut to fit the bottom of a peg leg. His legs made a hollow thud on the uneven wooden floor. He found a black bathroom mat with a nubby surface. It might work quite well. He bought it and asked the assistant to roll it up and place it in his string bag. The assistant plucked a couple of half crowns from the wallet and returned his change. Dennis thanked her and left.

 

Two doors along, he entered the do-it-yourself shop. He put his hooks into his jacket pockets and looked closely at the fittings on wash basins and saw that all of them were unsuitable for anyone unable to twist a tap from above. It did not concern him.

            – May I help you, sir?

            – I need a small tin of black gloss enamel paint, please.

            – They’re over here. How much do you need? What are you going to be painting?

            – Well, I don’t need a lot. I need enough to cover my arm sockets.

            – I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand.

            – These things.

Dennis exposed his hooks along with a fair amount of socket.

            – They’re pink, you see, and I don’t like the look of them. So I want to paint them black.

            – Oh, I see. I know what you need. Excuse me, sir.

He went into the nearby stockroom and rearranged his awkward erection. His workmates had always called him by his nickname ‘Big Balls’ but they had no idea of what torture it was to own a nine inch penis which was now urgently becoming erect itself inside the confines of his trousers. It was unmistakable. And obvious. He returned with a four fluid ounce tin of high gloss black paint as if nothing was amiss.

            – I think this will be enough. It dries in eight hours but they recommend leaving it overnight.

            – Is one coat enough?

            – Yes, I’m fairly sure one coat will be enough. Make sure you clean the surface of any greasy spots like fingerprints first.

Dennis thanked him, noted the impressive crotch bulge on display and paid, offering his wallet up to receive his change. He dropped the paint into his string bag and returned to the street. Another admirer with an impressive tool set. He may have to pay the store another visit sometime.

 

 

Next stop was an electrical store. The door was open so Dennis was able to enter with his hooks out of sight in his pockets. A salesman approached immediately.

            – Hello. May I help you, sir?

            – Yes, thank you. I’d like to see some radios. Something compact for the kitchen.

            – Come this way, please sir. Here is our current selection.

            – I’d like one with preset buttons and a slider volume control. I don’t want a model with dials.

            – I see. This is a new model by Hacker. Volume and tone are controlled by these sliding knobs and there are four buttons which can be set to any radio programme.

Dennis revealed his left hook and tried moving the sliding controls. They moved firmly. That was easy. The salesman was surprised to see Dennis’s hook but quickly regained his composure.

            – This model carries a two year guarantee.

            – How much is it?

            – Six guineas, sir.

Dennis did not intend paying more than seven pounds so this was just within his budget.

            – Can I listen to how it sounds?

            – Yes, of course. Let’s go to the counter and I can plug it in. It has an built-in aerial which means it is portable. You can take it on a picnic or to the seaside and enjoy listening to music there.

He showed Dennis how to switch the radio on and how to tune a preset button. There was a rotary dial on the right side of the set for that purpose. It was unavoidable.

            – Well, it sounds rather nice. I’ll take it, please.

The salesman repackaged the radio and placed it into Dennis’s string bag, filling it completely. Dennis took his right work hook from his pocket and manipulated his wallet. He paid and the salesman held the bag so Dennis could grip the handles firmly.

            – Thank you very much. Bye bye.

A bus was approaching the adjacent stop so Dennis decided to board it and return home. He managed to pull himself aboard with a little difficulty and managed to seat himself before the bus moved off.

 

Back home, Dennis took his purchases directly into the kitchen. He lifted the radio out onto the counter-top and then emptied the bag of its other items. He glanced at the time and decided to leave the job of unpacking the radio to Ray rather than risk scratching the brand new surface with his steel hooks. He went into the lounge and read.

 

Ray arrived home and shouted his Hello.

            – In the lounge!

Ray came in and dropped his jacket on the sofa.

            – What have you been up to today? Anything new?

            – There is indeed. I have a little job for you. Can you pull me up? Let’s go in the kitchen.

            – Ah!  You’ve been shopping. What’s that? Oh, a radio! That’s wizard.

            – I thought I’d leave setting it up to you. I don’t want to scratch it.

Ray lifted the radio out of its box and emptied it of the power cord and instruction booklet.

            – I’ll have a quick look at this for safety’s sake. Well, it looks easy enough to plug in. Where shall we put it?

            – It could go on the back counter away from the cooker.

Ray placed it there and switched it on. Static filled the room. Ray looked to see how the push buttons worked. They could each be set to a different station. Ray twisted the dial to find something.

            – I could save the Light Programme on the first button, Home Service on the second and Radio Luxembourg on the third.

            – That should be enough. I don’t want to listen to the Third Programme, do you?

            – Not really. I can see why you bought this model with the push buttons and sliders. Much easier for you to use. Was it expensive?

            – No, it was at the pricier end, though.

Ray soon created two presets. They would have to wait until six in the evening when Luxembourg started before he could save that.

            – Shall I leave it on?

            – Yes. Let’s have it on in the background.

            – What else did you buy?

            – I bought a rubber bathroom mat. Have a look. I thought we could use it for the bottom of your short pegs. What do you think?

            – Yes, it might work. We’ll have to try it. What’s in here?

            – That’s my other idea for the same thing. Put two of the heels end to end. See how it’s about the shape of a foot? I’m going to give my pegs a base shaped like that and then screw those heels into them. And last but not least, there’s a tin of black paint.

            – Oh good, you found some. Let me know when you’re ready to lose your arms and I’ll get started.

            – The chap in the shop said it would dry overnight. So if you feel like painting both sockets this evening, I should be able to put them on in the morning. Where shall we hang them to dry?

            – Over the back of a chair would do fine. The back of it will wear your harness very nicely. Right, I’m starving. What’s for supper?

            – Bacon, egg and beans or roe on toast.

            – How do you want your egg?

            – Sloppy.

            – Alright. Clear the table, please.

 

At nine o’clock, Dennis shucked his arms. The television news programme was beginning but they went to the kitchen to start the transformation of two pink artificial arms. Ray spread some newspaper on the table and opened the tin of paint with the end of a teaspoon. He took a paintbrush out of the cutlery drawer and the bottle of turps from the pantry.

            – What can we use as a rag? We haven’t got any.

            – Go and cut the sleeves off one of my shirts. We can use them.

Ray went and fetched a smart white shirt.

            – That will do. Leave me about six inches.

Ray snipped the sleeves off and returned the shirt to Dennis’s closet.

            – What shall I use to stir the paint with?

            – Use the spoon you opened it with.

            – Good idea. Here we go.

Ray used the former shirt sleeves to scrub the sockets clean of fingerprints, dipped the brush into the glossy paint and started covering the offensive pink at the wrist connector. It flowed easily and covered well. Ten minutes later the first socket was ready. Ray carefully pulled the hook open and allowed it to close on the edge of the table. It could hold on while he painted the other socket. Dennis and Ray both thought the black sockets were shocking but they looked more honest than the pink versions.

            – That’s that. I think this one can join the other. They’ll be alright holding onto the table, won’t they?

            – I don’t see why not. Thanks, Ray.

Ray cleaned the brush and spoon with a shirt sleeve soaked in turps and left them on the table to dry. He checked his fingers were clean of paint and washed his hands. They went back to see the end of the news broadcast. Dennis sat slowly rotating the rounded ends of his arm stumps against each other. It felt very satisfying. Something no-one could feel if they had hands.

            – Tell me if you want something, Den.

            – I will. Thanks.

            – I’m going to smoke a bowl.

            – Ray, do you think your mum would sew the cuffs on my shirts if I cut – I mean, if you cut all the sleeves short?

            – Well, it won’t hurt to ask. I can take the one we just altered on Sunday when I go round and see what she says. I expect she will. She can do it on her sewing machine. She wouldn’t need to spend hours doing it by hand.

            – It would be nice of her. I’d like to wear those shirts but long sleeves and hooks don’t really mix.

            – And now you have some really handsome sockets, you ought to show them off, not hide them.

            – They look a lot better now, don’t they?

            – Why don’t you come and see my parents one Sunday? You haven’t seen them since you got home.

            – Well, apart from you going in your car, I think your mum would be upset by my hooks. You’ve mentioned before how she hates to see or hear anything about stumps and artificial limbs and all the rest and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.

            – Yes, it’s true. I can talk with my dad about my amputations because he’s an amputee himself but mum always changes the subject if she asks me how I am and I mention my wooden legs. She doesn’t understand how much I like having and using them.

            – Do you really, Ray?  If you could have your legs back, would you want them?

            – I thought about that when I was still having difficulty walking before these legs were adjusted. But I decided then that I like being disabled more than having legs. I like being able to wear peg legs and the stump boots and I love seeing and touching my wooden legs every morning when I put them on. I hope I’ll be able to keep the wooden parts when I get new artificial legs.

            – They’re part of what makes you you.

            – Yes!  Imagine me not having wooden legs. We would never have spoken to each other, would we?

            – No. You wouldn’t have toppled on top me in the first place. I’m glad you did. I’m glad we’re together, Ray. I like being disabled too. It’s what I always wanted to be. I have more amputations than I imagined but I like all of them. I like the look of my arm stumps.

            – I do too. I think they’re beautiful. I wish I could see more of them. Would you consider using only one hook when you’re home? It’s easy to take one of the sockets off your harness.

            – I suppose so. We could do that. Let’s try it tomorrow when you come home.

 

Ray later attended to all six stumps after removing Dennis’s tin legs and standing them at the foot of their bed. He brushed their teeth and they walked on their knees to their bed and cuddled. Ray loved feeling Dennis’s arm stumps caress his face until they fell asleep.

 

Ray woke at five and gently extricated himself from Dennis. He donned his legs and trousers and had a quick wash in the bathroom. In the kitchen, Dennis’s arms still gripped the kitchen table. Ray tested the gleaming black surface. It seemed dry and solid enough. He pulled the hooks open and held the arms by the harness inspecting his handiwork. The arms were astonishing and very distinctive. He was sure Den would enjoy wearing them with short sleeved shirts. He took them into the bathroom and hung them by the harness ring on the wall. Dennis would see them as soon as he got up.

Ray made himself some coffee and four sandwiches. Two for Dennis. He could make his own coffee but Ray ran some water into the kettle for him. He finished dressing while he waited for the coffee to brew. He switched their spanking new radio on and listened quietly to a current affairs broadcast. Ray was not interested in politics, international or domestic, but it was pleasant to hear another voice in the background. He spent the last few minutes before he had to leave filling his short fat pipe with Navy Cut. Dennis had not smoked his pipe since losing his hands. Ray would have to ask him if he wanted to. Ray was quite prepared to fill and empty his pipe and to help light it if Dennis asked. He would be handsome smoking a pipe with a single hook. Ray picked up his jacket, put the unlit pipe into his mouth and grabbed his walking stick. He closed the door quietly and went out to his invalid carriage. He lit his pipe, started the car and departed for Southall.

 

Dennis got up just before seven and could hear a man’s voice although he could not make out the words. He was alarmed until he guessed that Ray must have left the radio on. He stumped to the bathroom and immediately saw his arms in their new livery. He saw to his business, donned stump socks and put the arms on. They looked amazing. He was very pleased with them. He went back to the bedroom for his tin legs and put them on. As always, the laces were the slowest part of the process. He went to the kitchen for breakfast and boiled water for the coffee Ray had set out for him.

 

The postman delivered two letters. One was obviously the electricity bill and the second was a long brown envelope addressed to him but with no return address. He opened it with the work hook and teased out the paper. It was from the Invacar centre in Acton. His application had been approved and his vehicle would be available for collection from tomorrow, Friday the twenty-third. It continued with information about the preliminary test and the centre’s opening times. He would collect it on Saturday, just as Ray had. If he had had moveable ankles, he would have jumped in the air. His own car! And just in time for returning to Stapleton’s next week. No need to clamber onto buses any longer.

 

Dennis was so excited that he was unable to concentrate on anything else. He had learned to ride a motorbike as a teenager but had never driven a car. Motorcycles were probably beyond his capabilities now but the invacar was designed specifically for men like himself, limbless, operable even with basic artificial arms. He thought of places he and Ray could visit at the weekend to show off their cars. He immediately thought of Peter and Robert in Hanwell. They could turn up for a cuppa on Saturday afternoon. And he would be able to wear the peg leg far more often, and his stump boots when he finally had them.

 

Dennis calmed down after a couple of hours. He sorted through his good shirts and found five which he hoped Mrs Martin might alter for him. He had a couple of pairs of trousers too which would make smart shorts. He could show off his tin legs. He made himself scrambled egg on toast for lunch and tried to keep his mind on East of Eden in the afternoon. Ray arrived home around four and was hardly through the door before he heard Dennis’s news.

            – That’s great! You’ll have yours sooner than I got mine. When are you going to collect it? Saturday? Or tomorrow?

            – I thought Saturday. Maybe you could come with me.

            – Well, I’d have to follow your bus ’cause I can’t really take you in mine but we could go together if you like.

            – On second thoughts, you’d only have to sit around for a couple of hours. No, I’ll go myself and come straight back here.

            – Get some petrol on the way back.

            – Yeah. Aargh!  I’m so pleased!

            – I think you ought to get it tomorrow, Dennis. Telephone them and ask what time the car will be there. Or just go in the afternoon, around two. They should have it by then I should think.

            – Alright. I will. The sooner the better.

            – Exactly. What’s for tea?

 

Dennis was fidgety for the rest of the evening. Ray gave him his copy of the Highway Code so he could do a bit of revision and briefed him on the kind of questions the exam presented.

            – You’ll have to write your answers, Dennis. Are you going to be able to do it in a hour?

            – I was wondering about that, as well. I’ll have to ask them. They can see what the problem is so I shouldn’t have to explain in any great detail.

 

Friday morning dragged on interminably. Dennis checked the time at three minute intervals for two hours, made coffee, reread the Highway Code for the third time, tried distracting himself by listening to the radio and washed the kitchen window. He slapped a chunk of cheddar between two slices of bread and called it lunch. It was a quarter past twelve. He put his jacket on, made sure he had coins for bus fare and left. It was a beautiful spring day and the sun actually felt warm for the first time. He ought to get himself a pair of sunglasses. In fact, he would do so right now. He looked along Uxbridge Road for an optician or chemist who might stock them. He spotted an optician and crossed over.

            – Hello. Can I help you?

            – I need some sunglasses, please. Something with thick frames.

The optician produced three fashionable designs.

            – These two have polarised lenses. They help cut out glare.

            – Can I try this pair on?

            – Yes, of course.

Dennis gingerly picked the glasses up in his left hook and used the right to open the temples. He put them back on the counter in order to change his grip and managed to fit them over his eyes. He turned to face a mirror and was impressed at how altered his appearance was.

            – These look rather good.

            – I think they suit your appearance very well.

            – How much are they?

            – Two pounds seventeen shillings, sir.

            – I think I’ll take them.

Dennis took them off and the optician removed a sticker and the price tag. He polished them and found a pouch for them. Dennis paid and put them back on.

            – Thank you very much. Bye.

He crossed back and caught a bus to Ealing Common station.

 

Dennis reached the depot at one o’clock and entered the broad yard. Three brand new Invacars were parked near the entrance to the building. He went in and explained his business.

            – Your carriage has indeed arrived, Mr Wilson. It is the one in the middle just outside. Are you ready to take the exam?

            – Yes, I’m looking forward to it. There may be a problem, though.

            – Do you have difficulty writing? One of my colleagues will accompany you and you can dictate your answers.

            – That would be very good. Thank you.

            – Just a moment and I’ll see who is currently free.

She went to the office and shortly returned with a man about Dennis’s age.

            – How do you do. My name is Jack Ross and I will adjudicate your exam. If you’d like to follow me to our meeting room.

He turned with some effort and led Dennis deeper into the building. He opened the door to a large room with rows of tables.

            – Sit anywhere. We have the place to ourselves. Now, I will give you the exam questions and you have an hour in which to complete them. If you wish, you may dictate your answers and I will write them.

            – Yes, that would be very helpful. Thank you.

Ross sat next to Dennis, almost collapsing onto the chair.

            – Excuse me. I am disabled. Right. Here are the questions. Read the whole paper through first and then you can start telling me your answers.

 

Ross watched Dennis closely. He was a handsome guy. Ross knew the extent of Dennis’s disability. He was surprised and delighted to see his unique glossy black arm sockets and their steel terminal devices. Ross carried a dark secret similar to that of Ray. His bilateral above knee amputations were not completely accidental and had required two years of careful preparation and planning. The results were perfect. Two eight inch thigh stumps, perfect for using prosthetic legs without the slightest indication that the injury was anything less than an unfortunate road accident. Ross had applied for a position at the Invacar distribution depot because of his erotic fascination with all types of prosthetic limb. He was not so interested in the stumps or even their owners. He loved seeing artificial limbs in action.

 

Dennis held the sheet of questions in position with his left hook and moved his work hook slowly down the page as he read. He knew all the answers so far. Some of them were simple yes or no answers. This one asked for a drawing. He might give it a go. He turned the page and read the remaining questions.

            – I’m ready. Question one – no. Two – no.

Ross wrote his answers in neat block letters with an indelible pencil. When the answer demanded a diagram, Dennis asked if he might try. Ross placed the pencil in Dennis’s work hook and watched with interest as Dennis created a drawing of a crossroads and the lanes to use for turning respectively to the left and right. It was clear enough. Dennis passed the paper back to Ross and dictated his next answer. They were ready after three quarters of an hour.

            – Read these answers through and check that I have written them correctly. When you are satisfied, we will both sign the paper and I will check your replies. You need seventy-five percent for a pass. Five points for each correct answer. Take your time.

Ross pushed against the edge of the table, trying to move his chair far enough so he could manoeuvre his artificial legs into the configuration necessary for him to rise and stand. This time, Dennis watched him.

            – I’ll be back very soon.

He went straight to the gentlemen’s wash room and rearranged his erection which had been painfully bent against his unrelenting left thigh socket. He urgently wanted to masturbate but it would have to wait until later. He washed the pre-cum from his hands and returned to the meeting room where Dennis sat back in his chair, his hooks resting on the table.

            – I signed it.

            – Oh, good. Let me go over your answers.

He took the papers and walked to the next row of tables. He turned a chair to face the gangway and leant on the table as he allowed his artificial legs to collapse under him. There was an audible thud as his sockets struck the seat of the chair. Dennis smirked.

 

Having written the answers down himself, Ross knew very well that Dennis had answered only one question wrongly and had therefore passed with a score of ninety-five percent. He was thinking of a way to persuade Dennis to expose his artificial legs. He could probably think of some bogus piece of advice he might offer after asking ‘what type are your leg prostheses?’ in the hope that the chap might pull his trouser legs up to reveal them.

            – Well, I’ve checked and double checked and, as a driver myself, I’m very pleased to welcome you into the community of invalid carriage drivers. You scored ninety-five out of a hundred.

            – Oh, that’s wonderful. What was my mistake?

Ross picked up the question sheet and indicated a road sign.

            – This means ‘must turn left’. You answered ‘may turn left’.

            – Oh yes, of course it does. Sorry.

            – No need to be. If you were on the road, you would have many other clues for context. Now, would you like to see your new car?

He watched as Dennis rotated himself erect. He had learned the technique from Ray. They walked out to the yard and Ross indicated the centre vehicle.

            – Here you are, Mr Wilson. Please get in and familiarise yourself with the controls.

            – Actually, they are already very familiar. My flatmate is also disabled and has a similar car. He has explained its operation several times.

            – How extraordinary. What is his disability?

            – He is a double leg amputee like me.

            – What sort of prosthetics do you use, Mr Wilson, if that isn’t too bold a question?

Dennis grabbed his trouser legs and pulled them up to reveal his unpainted aluminium legs with their quasi-muscular bulge. Ross gasped.

            – Spectacular! Very handsome indeed. Mine are standard issue health service pink, but also aluminium. Well, would you like to take it for a test run around the yard?

            – Yes, very much.

Dennis grasped the ignition key in front of him and twisted his body to the right. The engine caught. Dennis slid the door firmly shut and pushed the central joystick forward with his work hook. Ross watched him for a moment and took the opportunity to relight his pipe for a smoke while Dennis was otherwise occupied. Like Ray, Ross was another fan of oversized pipes. The one he had chosen today was of normal length but its bowl was twice the normal height. It was slightly phallic.

 

Dennis drove slowly towards the glass doors of the building and stopped. He tested the headlamps and checked their reflection in the doors. The windscreen wiper worked – push to start, push to stop. Everything worked on the same principle. He could even drive this car with one solitary passive hook. He checked the indicators in the reflection. He tried unwinding the window. It was easy enough. He noticed Ross with an unusual pipe. Ray would love one like that. He would ask where he had bought it before he left. He pushed the reverse button and moved back a few yards. He pushed the reverse button again and the car moved forward. Dennis swapped hooks and tried driving with his left hook. It felt the same. This felt like freedom. It made being legless worthwhile. A free car because he had ‘spectacular handsome’ tin legs. He drove back to the front of the building and slowed to a stop beside Ross. Dennis slid the door open.

            – Very smooth. I’ll take her.

            – Ha! Glad to hear it. Let’s go inside, Mr Wilson. We’re almost ready. You need to sign a couple more papers and the obligation to maintain the vehicle in its current condition.

They re-entered the meeting room, Ross closed the door, collected some documents from the front desk and sat opposite Dennis who had already positioned the pencil in his work hook.

            – Oh, I was going to ask you. I hope you won’t mind. I noticed you smoking a rather handsome pipe just now. My friend is a keen pipe smoker and prefers unusual shapes and large sizes. I think he would like a pipe like yours, so may I ask where you bought it?

Ross took it out of his pocket. It was still warm and emitted the aroma of freshly extinguished tobacco.

            – This is Italian. I received it as a gift so I’m afraid I can’t really help you with the whereabouts of the shop. My good friend purchased it in Italy, you see.

Dennis picked up on a clue.

            – That’s a shame. He would love to see it.

            – Well, perhaps I could drop by one day and show him. I have another pipe he might also like.

Dennis moved his work hook in front of Ross. He looked into Dennis’s eyes and down at the hook. He lifted it gently in both hands and brought it to his lips and cheek. Dennis waited an appropriate number of seconds and pulled his hook back.

 

            – My friend would like to see your pipes on Sunday morning. You have our address and the telephone number to call if you are prevented from coming. Come round for coffee at eleven. Unfortunately my friend has to be elsewhere soon afterwards for lunch and will be absent for about three hours.

            – That’s a pity. We will meet again late on Sunday morning then, Mr Wilson. It was a pleasure to meet you and congratulations.

 

Dennis left with what passed for a jaunty step in a man on two artificial legs. No, it wasn’t cheating on Ray. Ray was still a minor. A man needed sex. Dennis suspected Ross was going to get some. What did he say his first name was? Never mind. He would be Ross. The legless supplicant. Dennis turned left and followed the bus route back to the Uxbridge Road, filling up with four gallons of premium en route. Dennis was also unsure of where the petrol cap was until he heard it being unscrewed. He sat wondering what Ross’s artificial legs looked like. How long his stumps might be. Dennis hoped they were tidy well-shaped stumps and not gnarly chewed-up horrors from some hideous trauma. Just past the tube station, Dennis noticed a car showroom and an adjacent shop called Automotive Parts. He slowed and pulled into the forecourt. He slid his door open and used his work hook to cling to the handle above the door to help him to his aluminium feet. He reached in and pulled the ignition key out with his left hook. He looked carefully, dropped it into his trouser pocket and rocked into the shop.

            – Yes sir. What can I do for you?

            – I need a sticker for my car which says No Hand Signals. Do you have anything like that?

            – Yes sir. We have two kinds. One is square with the words one under the other and there is a long version with the words one after the other.

            – That’s very good. Please give me two of the long ones.

The assistant pulled out a greasy drawer from beneath the counter and scrabbled though its contents.

            – Oh!  Here’s one. Let’s see now… there it is, the bugger. Right on the bottom. Will there be anything else, sir? That’s three and eight please, sir.

Dennis pulled out his new wallet and extracted a tightly folded pound note with the tip of a hook.

            – Sorry it’s like that.

            – No problem at all, sir. I see the need for the stickers.

            – Ha! You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to cut the other one into bits so the whole thing says No Hand Signals. No Hands.

            – I bet that’ll put the wind up ‘em, sir. Thank you very much. Come again.

 

Dennis dropped his stickers beside the seat and headed for home. He had to stop at a red light where another Invacar pulled alongside. The occupant, an elegant lady, looked across at a unexpectedly young man with beautiful eyes and raised an eyebrow. She smiled. The lights changed and Dennis accelerated in a manful fashion. She followed him until he turned off after Marks and Sparks. Dennis imagined her wearing her best dress but with two peg legs sticking ahead of her, like Ray’s. It was not a pretty picture. Amputations and artificial limbs were a man’s world. They looked terrible on women.

 

Dennis pulled up in front of his building and picked the stickers up. He held them in his left hook while he worked his way out of the car. He locked it, pulled himself up to the front door and performed the actions needed to rotate his key in the lock. He would have to do the same to open the door to his flat. Once inside, he shrugged off his jacket and went to the kitchen for coffee. Ray should soon be home. He looked at the stickers and imagined how the second facetious part would look quite official, as if the department of invalid carriages issued such things. Drivers behind him would be shocked by the idea of someone driving without hands. He looked at his mismatched hooks and smiled. Ross had actually kissed his work hook. Dennis wanted to see Ross’s stumps. And his long artificial legs. He had thigh corsets on his legs. What might it feel like to have short stumps in rigid metal sockets? Quite erotic, probably. Both sockets pushing your dick and balls around at every step.

 

Ray arrived a quarter of an hour later. Dennis shouted as soon as he heard the key in the door.

            – Did you see an invalid carriage outside? I hope it wasn’t in your way.

            – Oh, it’s yours, is it? Well, congratulations.

Ray hugged Dennis.

            – I’m glad you have it at last. Now we can go anywhere together.

            – I know. That’s what makes it so good. Shall we pay Rob and Pete a visit tomorrow to show them?

            – Could do. How did your test go? I mean, obviously you passed.

            – I was talking to the invigilator. He let me dictate my answers to him. There were only me and him in the room, you see. Anyway, when we were in the yard for a bit of practice, he was smoking a pipe which was so special that I told him I had a friend who would love one like it and he said he could come round to show it to you. So I invited him for elevenses on Sunday. He’s only a young bloke, my age I suppose. And guess what? He’s disabled. And he drives an Invacar too.

            – Well, that sounds all very interesting. I wonder if you can ask him how to tune the engine?

            – I shouldn’t think so. I mean, he works for the ministry, doesn’t he? He’s hardly likely to give advice on how to turn invalid carriages into racing cars.

            – And he’s coming here on Sunday for coffee? Well, we’ll have to show him our selection of pegs and boots, won't we? It’s lucky I wore my peg home. I’ll put them both on and show off a bit.

            – Yes, do that! I’ve still never seen you wearing both pegs. Oh, will you change my work hook for a Five please, Ray?

Ray fetched the smaller hook and carefully replaced the powerful work hook with the gentler rubber-lined one. He brewed a pot of coffee and Dennis explained what sort of questions the driving test had asked.

            – I bought stickers for the back of my car. If you have a minute, can you slice it into pieces for me?

            – I’ll give it a try.

            – It would be good if I could use a pair of scissors but it’s simply not possible with these.

            – You’ll just have to use my fingers instead. You could use a sharp blade like a scalpel but we don’t have a surface to cut on.

 

Ray cooked their Friday Fry-Up. Sausages, tomato and egg on two slices of bread. He cut Dennis’s portion into bite-sized pieces easy to spear with a fork. Dennis insisted on washing the dishes. He could use almost boiling water to clean the grease. Ray found the stickers and scissors.

            – You want the second part to say ‘no hands’, don’t you?

            – Yeah. Try to make it look as real as possible.

Ray cut out the necessary letters and arranged them neatly on the table. A little overlap and the whole thing would look like the genuine article.

            – Very good. Thanks very much. We’ll put it on the car before we go anywhere tomorrow.

            – Shall we go somewhere? Have a day out?

            – Yeah, let’s pack a picnic and make a day of it. Depends on the weather, of course. Where shall we go? Richmond Park? Bushy Park?

            – How about Ruislip Lido?

            – I’ve never been there. What’s it like?

            – Well, there’s a foresty bit, and a lake where you can go water surfing and there’s a little railway which runs through the woods for about a mile.

            – Sounds quite nice. It’s not too far, either. Alright, let’s go there for a ride.

 

Saturday promised to be a fine day. The sun was warm but pleasantly so. A good day to spend outside. Ray tried to decide which would be the best legs to wear. He wanted to wear the stump boots but walking in them was slow because of the short stride. He chose a wooden leg and a peg leg. Dennis looked at him and asked if he might borrow the other peg.

            – Of course you can. Are you going to put it on under your trousers?

            – Yes, the same as you.

            – Alright. Call me if you need a hand.

Ray set about making cheese and tomato sandwiches. He went to the bedroom to change his right leg for a peg. Dennis was still working on the lacing of his left thigh corset. They sat next to each other, grinning at the situation. Ray pulled his right leg out from his trousers and fed the peg leg in. He buckled the peg on firmly and stood up to pull his trousers up. He crossed his arms and looked down at Dennis tying a bow with two hooks.

            – Ready! Now the peg.

Dennis had already inserted it into the trouser leg. He asked Ray to help buckle it tightly because his hooks slipped when he tried it. Finally he pushed himself up and Ray finished dressing him.

            – Thanks, Ray. Now where did I put my sunglasses?

            – When did you get those? Yesterday?

            – Yes. It was so bright, I thought they might be useful for driving. I think they’re in my jacket.

            – Alright. I made some sandwiches so we’re all set and ready.

            – Let’s wait a while yet. It’s a bit early for picnics. Let’s leave around eleven. Where’s your map? I want to see where it actually is.

            – It’s in my car.

            – Oh, in that case. Shall we have a cuppa?

            – Yeah, might as well.

They strode to the kitchen, synchronised by their peg legs.

            – I was thinking about making myself a walking stick.

            – To use with a hook, you mean?

            – Not exactly. I thought I could cut the handle off one and drill a hole in the shaft for a half inch bolt. Then I would take a hook off and screw the walking stick into the socket.

            – That will look odd, seeing a walking stick but nothing holding it. The only trouble with that is if you suddenly want to use the hook for something.

            – True, but take today, for example. We’ll be doing a bit of walking, won’t we? I could have the stick in my socket for a couple of hours at least.

            – Well, let’s try it. You can’t have either of mine, sorry, so we’ll have to get a new one. We ought to go into Uxbridge to see that invalid supplies shop. They’ll probably have walking sticks, I should think.

            – We could go after our picnic if there’s still time. Did you find out how to get to Ruislip Lido?

            – Yes,. You wouldn’t believe it but if you go to the end of Argyle Road and turn left, that’s Ruislip Road and it goes all the way there. As easy as that.

            – It’s quite a long way though, isn’t it?

            – About five miles, I suppose. It’ll take a while but we’re not in any hurry. It’ll be fun driving somewhere just for the sake of it.

            – How about leaving now and driving via Uxbridge? I don’t want to sit around for another hour. I want some new stump socks too.

            – Alright, I’m ready. Will we need a jacket?

            – Maybe not but you never know.

            – Off we go, then.

Ray picked up the picnic sandwiches, put them in his old school satchel and took hold of a walking stick. Dennis held his bits of sticker and they took turns negotiating the outside steps. Ray put his things into his car and went over to where Dennis stood.

            – Can you put it here under the window but a bit to the right?

Ray tried the position to make sure it would fit neatly.

            – Put a hook just here for a moment.

Ray peeled off the protective backing paper and placed the final s. Next was no hand, and then all of the other sticker.

            – Does that look straight? I think it is.

            – Perfect. It looks very official. Thanks, Ray. Right, off we go. You go in front and I’ll follow. You’ve got the map.

 

They swung into their cars, positioned their peg legs in a comfortable position and set out along the Uxbridge Road through Hanwell, Southall, Hayes and Hillingdon to Uxbridge. Vine Street led off the main road to the left and they spotted the orthopaedic supplies shop easily enough. They parked opposite and entered the shop.

            – Good morning, gentlemen. May I help you?

            – Good morning. I wonder if you have a thick wooden walking stick which would suit me?

            – I believe we do, sir. Our selection is over there.

The salesman noticed Dennis’s hooks and wondered if he should mention the difficulty the customer might have in using a conventional walking stick. Dennis saw a thick stick rather longer than average and asked to inspect it closer. The man took it from the walking stick stand and handed it to Dennis. Dennis checked that the stick would still be long enough to reach his hookless socket after its handle was removed.

            – This seems to be what I was looking for. I’ll take it. I also need stump socks. Do you sell them?

            – We do indeed, sir.

            – I’d like a pair of five-ply for below knee stumps and a pair of the same for below elbow stumps, please.

The salesman picked out two packs of each from a neatly arranged selection and placed them on the counter.

            – Will there be anything else, sir?

            – As you can see, I have problems opening things like jars because my hooks  rotate only a little. Do you have any devices which might act as a lever?

            – I’m afraid not, sir. We stock only orthopaedic items.

            – Oh, well it’s not important right now. How much do I owe you?

            – Four pounds fourteen and tuppence please, sir.

Dennis placed his wallet on the counter. He took out five pound notes and pushed them towards the salesman, who showed Dennis his change in his palm and dropped the coins into the wallet.

            – Thank you very much. One other thing – do you stock plaster bandages, the kind used to wrap a broken leg?

            – We do, but they are sold only in boxes of two dozen. The price is four pounds ten shillings.

            – I see. Thank you. Bye.

Dennis grabbed the stump socks with his left hook and the walking stick slightly awkwardly in his right. They returned to their cars.

 

            – Can you hold these socks for a minute while I get my car key, Ray?

Ray took them and watched Dennis fumbling in his pocket for the key. He succeeded after ten seconds or so, leant the stick against his car and used both hooks to reposition the key so he could insert it in the door lock. He twisted his body, heard the lock open and hung the stick on his left socket. He slid the door open, put the stick inside and took back the stump socks from Ray.

            – These can go in the door pocket. All set and ready, my good man. Lead the way!

            – Let’s go back to Long Lane. That’ll take us to Ruislip Road.

            – Suits me fine. You’re the navigator.

They settled themselves in the carriages and drove back to the main road via Uxbridge Village which itself looked like a pretty spot for a picnic. Driving down Long Lane, the surroundings became gradually more rural. Ickenham was completely hidden by leafy trees. Ray chose to pass the aerodrome, slowing to admire the Spitfire standing by the main gate, and to turn left at the War Memorial to rejoin Ruislip Road rather than lose his way along minor roads north of Hillingdon. It was almost noon when they pulled into the Lido car park. They slid their doors open and Ray picked up his walking stick and walked around to where Dennis still sat.

            – What’s up? Aren’t you getting out?

            – I was just enjoying the feeling of being able to come to a place like this. It’s not something I would have thought of doing before.

            – No, I wouldn’t either. Come on. Let’s see what there is to see.

Dennis swung himself around so his peg leg pointed out the door and reached across to the handle over the door to pull himself onto his foot. Ray watched, ready to grab Dennis if he faltered. Moments later, they stood together and stretched their truncated limbs.

            – It looks like there’s a path over there. Let’s go that way.

 

They stepped carefully on the car park’s gravel surface, Ray leaning on the stick in his left hand. The path was concrete slabs, far safer to walk on. There were a few other early visitors. A dozen or so families sat on a sandy beach watching toddlers play. The lake was a deep blue. Two or three small yachts bobbed almost motionless further off. Ray and Dennis again fell into lock step, swinging their peg legs around in an arc, following with an artificial leg. Dennis held his artificial arms out slightly to keep his balance a little better. Park benches stood at regular intervals beside the path, several occupied by elderly people dressed warmly in coats who watched the two disabled young men pass. Dog walkers approached them, also studying the unusual visitors. Some wished them a Good afternoon. The incongruous sound of a steam train’s whistle sounded from the wood.

            – Shall we go and see the railway?

            – We could try. The path looks a bit dodgy.

It was compacted sand mixed liberally with pine needles and might not be wholly compatible with artificial legs. They both ventured ten yards before they looked at each other and laughed.

            – We’ll try this some other time with different legs.

            – Yeah, it might be better.

They turned around and picked their way back to the concrete path.

            – Shall we sit and have some lunch? We should have brought a thermos, shouldn’t we?

They walked a little further and sat on the next free bench. Their peg legs protruded in front of them, an unusual sight for passers-by. Most people did not venture this far around the lake. They were much closer now to the motionless yachts and watched the crews adjusting rigging and sipping mugs of tea. Ray took his large billiard pipe and tobacco out of his satchel and filled the bowl. He lit it and exhaled jets of smoke from his nostrils.

            – Do you want to smoke your pipe, Dennis? I mean, in general.

            – Sometimes I think I would like to but it’s very awkward for me at the moment. Don’t forget these hooks are pretty new for me and smoking a pipe calls for more dexterity than I have at the moment.

            – I’d fill the bowl and tamp the tobacco, all that sort of thing, if you wanted to smoke. I’d like to see you with the pipe you bought. You looked very handsome smoking it.

            – Thanks, Ray. I’ll remember to bring it with me next time we come out. Where shall we go next trip?

            – Bushy Park isn’t too far. That’s nice. It’s near Hampton Court. Mum took me once on the trolleybus.

            – Sounds alright. Now, where are those sandwiches? I’m starving.

Ray had made four each. They managed three.

            – Is there a café here? I could do with a cuppa.

            – I think I saw one by the car park.

            – Oh, well, in that case, shall we stroll back that way and have some? Then we could make tracks for home, unless you’d like to stay longer.

            – No, let’s do that. I’d have liked to see the railway but I can’t walk around on that sand today.

            – Don’t you see enough of railways, Ray?

            – Not little ones you can sit on and go for a ride.

            – We’ll have to wear stump boots next time we come. If I ever get mine. They’re taking a long time, aren’t they?

            – They are a bit late, yes. I think mine took just over three weeks. It would be easier to walk on sand wearing boots, I think.

            – I was thinking – shall we go and see Robert and Peter this evening? I’ll telephone and ask if they’ll be home. We haven’t seen them for weeks.

            – Yeah, let’s go and see them for a couple of hours. I’ve seen Robert at work, don’t forget. But I haven’t seen Peter for ages.

 

They reached the café and stomped inside. They sat at by a window facing each other, peg legs almost touching under the table. A waitress took their order for a small pot of tea and Ray relit his pipe.

            – I’m going to take my pipe with me to Peter’s, if we go. Does Peter smoke his, I wonder? I remember him buying a long one. I can’t remember what they’re called.

            – Churchwarden. They’re supposed to be nice to smoke but they don’t fit in a coat pocket so they’re not very practical. I don’t think I’ve seen him smoke it either. Maybe Robert has persuaded him by now. Robert always has his pipe going.

The waitress brought a tray with cups, saucers, spoons, milk and sugar and a teapot. She placed the items in front of them and asked if she should pour.

            – Yes please. That’s very kind of you, thank you.

She smiled and left.

            – Ray, I can’t hold this sort of cup. I don’t have enough rubber bands on my hooks.

            – I’ll hold the cup and you slurp.

            – Alright. It’s too hot just yet.

Dennis plucked a couple of sugar cubes and dropped them into his cup. He picked up the spoon and angled it so he could stir the tea. Ray poured in a drop of milk. He tested his own.

            – It’s not too hot.

He reached across the table and lifted the cup for Dennis, who placed his hooks on the tabletop for balance and leaned forward to drink. It was a tender scene. Ray alternated between his own tea and Dennis’s. Ray glanced around once but no-one seemed to be paying them any attention.

            – Ready? I need a pee first.

            – You go first, I’ll follow in a minute.

Ray expected Dennis to need help closing his flies. He was not averse to handling his friend’s penis if necessary. No-one who saw him touching another man’s genitals in a public toilet would give it another thought after seeing the steel hooks the other man was wearing.

 

On the way out, Dennis spotted something he wanted near the cashier. Souvenir keyrings with an enamel plaque reading Ruislip Lido. He bought two.

            – Would you like one, Ray?

            – No thanks. Maybe next time.

            – Good show. Lead the way!

Dennis made several attempts at grasping his car key and found it in his hook as they reached their cars. He suddenly burst into laughter. Ray looked at him in surprise.

            – What? What’s funny?

            – I just thought of a No hand signals message for your car. Haha!

            – Well, tell me!

            – ‘No Hand Signals. Hangnails’.

            – Haha! That would look so funny when the cars are parked together like this. I’m going to do it.

 

Dennis followed Ray’s car back to West Ealing, staying on the same road through Ruislip, Yeading and Greenford although its name changed several times. They turned right onto Argyle Road and were home five minutes later.

            – That was fun. I enjoyed that.

            – Yes, so did I. We’ll have to go there with two legs and crutches and sticks to keep us upright but I think it would be nice to stroll through that pine forest. And we could have a look at the railway.

            – And a picnic on the beach.

            – Well yeah, assuming there are no screaming toddlers. I never realised it was such an easy journey. I wonder why the place isn’t better known? Right, put the kettle on. I want some coffee. I’m going to call Peter.

Dennis stomped into the lounge and sat next to the telephone.

            – Hello, is that Peter? Hi, it’s Dennis. We’re fine, thanks. Just got back from Ruislip Lido. Well, Ray suggested we go there for a ride in our invalid carriages. Yes!  Yes, I got it yesterday. I know. It’ll make a huge difference. No, nothing in particular but we were wondering if we could drop in this evening for a quick visit. We haven’t seen each other for a bit. Oh, are you? Well, we don’t want to intrude. Really? You must be kidding. Alright, see you at eight. Bye.

            – Ray, guess what!  They’re having a party. They’re having a few friends round and every man jack of them is an amputee.

            – You’re joking.

            – Well, that’s what I said. And he invited us for eight o’clock.

            – I’m putting my stump boots on. No-one else will have a pair, I bet.

            – Can I wear your grey shorts? I want to show off my tin legs.

            – If you can get them to fit, you’re welcome. Try the red football shorts if they don’t.

            – Thanks. How’s that coffee?

            – Should be ready.

Ray poured espresso into two cylindrical glasses and threw a lump of sugar in after.

            – Cheers!

 

            – Should we take a bottle of something? What do you think?

            – We shouldn’t be drinking if we’re going to drive back tonight, and if they have a houseful of guests, there’ll be other people who’ll need to bunk down there more than us. But we could take a bottle of wine and have a couple of beers ourselves. That would be alright, wouldn’t it?

            – Yes, I expect so.

            – Right, I’m going to watch the football results on television. They always send me to sleep. It might be good to have a nap before our next adventure.

            – I’ll be there in a bit.

Ray washed the glasses and joined Dennis on the sofa.

            – I have a job for you.

            – What’s that?

            – If you get the car key out of my pocket, and the two key rings, I’ll tell you.

Ray rummaged around and found the items.

            – Now, if you would kindly thread my car key onto one of the rings, please. I’ll be able to find that with a hook a bit more easily. Now, take the token thingy off the second ring… and put it through the little hole in the tab of my flies zipper.

            – Oh, good idea! You’ll be able to pull it up with a hook. You could have a ring on all your trousers.

            – Yeah, but I don’t want to pay two and six each for them. We’ll have to keep an eye out for something cheap and cheerful I could use. I only want the key ring bit. I don’t care what the rest of it looks like.

 

The football results worked their magic and both men were asleep leaning against each other within twenty minutes.

 

They both awoke to the signature music of the six o’clock news. The Americans were worried about Cuba. The Russians were worried about the Americans. The prime minister was merely concerned. It sounded serious. The lift in Blackpool Tower had undergone a six month long refit and would be ready for summer. Someone from Blackpool Council seemingly explained the entire process but neither of them could understand anything. Dennis worked his way onto his foot and crossed the room to turn the set off.

 

            – I think I’ll have a quick wash.

            – You know, I think you’ve caught the sun. Your forehead is red.

            – We were only out for two hours! It can’t be. Ow! It is a bit sore.

            – Just dab it, don’t rub it. I’ll come in if you call.

            – I know. I love you, Ray. Thank you.

 

Ray went to the bedroom and changed his clothes. He removed his peg leg and stood it against the bed. Next he wriggled out of his trousers, keeping the left wooden leg inside the trouser leg. He slipped off the bed onto his knees and stumped across to the closet. He picked a clean blue shirt and a pair of beige shorts which he threw onto the bed. He picked up his stump boots and inspected them for scuffs. They looked presentable. He sat on the floor and donned them. The cool leather felt wonderful after wearing two woollen thigh sleeves all day. He looked down at his short shiny black legs and grinned. He pushed himself back up and put the shorts on, leaving the three inch thick rubber soles visible, and the crisp blue shirt. It was warm enough not to need a jacket, but he thought about what he might need and wanted to take so he decided to fill his jacket pocket with his nosewarmer pipe, tobacco, matches, car keys, flat keys and wallet. Then he took everything out again and dropped them into his old satchel. It would be nice to get a new one. It was handy to carry and he could sling it over his shoulder to keep his hands free for walking sticks and the like. Dennis called.

            – Ray, I know I can do all this myself but can you help me? I don’t want to spend another hour dressing.

Dennis stumped naked into the bedroom.

            – Lie on the bed.

Ray fitted stump socks onto Dennis’s leg stumps and followed up with two pairs of stump sleeves. His mum had knitted them. One pair was red, the other a garish green. He put the red ones onto the left stump and the green on the right.

            – I look like a traffic light.

            – Wait a moment and you’ll look like the pole itself.

Ray slid the leather and aluminium artificial legs onto Dennis’s stumps and slapped the calves.

            – Let’s see if my grey shorts will fit you.

He fetched them from his closet and worked Dennis’s rigid feet through the trouser cuffs.

            – Can you raise your bum, please?

Dennis struggled to move his elbows and arched his back. Ray pulled the shorts to cover Dennis’s privates.

            – Oh, they fit you perfectly. And they look really good against your tin legs. Dennis, you’re going to look stunning. I didn’t know we were the same size. I’m going to borrow some of your trousers now.

            – Help yourself. Arms next.

            – How many stump socks do you want?

            – Three of the three ply. They’re different ply in each cubbyhole. Not that one, underneath. That’s it. Bring half a dozen.

Ray rolled the stump socks up Dennis’s arms, careful to keep the textile smooth. He brought the artificial arms over and asked if Dennis could manage.

            – Yes thanks, Ray. I can do this bit.

Ray went to the bathroom to swipe his armpits and face with a wet soapy flannel. He could no longer reach the towel rail and called for Dennis’s assistance.

            – It’s nice to be able to do something for you for a change.

            – You do so much for me, Dennis. We’re a pretty good team, aren’t we?

            – The best. Shall I make omelettes for supper?

            – Yeah, go ahead.

Dennis produced a thick buttery omelette which they divided between them. He intended to cook more often as his dexterity improved. An omelette was a good start.

Ray washed the dishes, a slightly awkward task for someone so short, and checked the time.

            – We could set off now, couldn’t we? Especially if we’re going to get some wine.

            – Oh yes, I almost forgot. Alright, let’s get going.

 

There was an off-licence on the main road. Dennis bought a bottle of white wine and four bottles of pale ale. Other customers stared at his aluminium legs in astonishment. Why on earth would a young bloke show off a disability like that? Shorts! And – he had two hooks too! Dennis asked the shop assistant to put the bottles into his string bag for him and paid with a ten shilling note. Dennis returned to his car, conscious of the attention he was attracting, with a huge grin. Ray noticed too.

 

Peter’s flat was only a five minute drive away. Ray turned into a side road and saw two other invacars already there. He parked alongside and Dennis drew up next to him. They exited the vehicles and commented on the unusual sight of so many in one place.

            – It’s only a quarter to. We’re early.

            – So are these others. Come on. No point in waiting.

Ray stumped along in his grotesque black boots and Dennis did his best to walk slowly. It was too difficult. He picked up his pace to maintain momentum and walked ahead. He pressed the door buzzer and waited for a reply.

            – Hello? Who is it?

            – Dennis and Ray.

            – Come on in!

Dennis held the door open for Ray. The lift was waiting on the ground floor. Moments later, Peter opened its gates on the fifth floor and welcomed them.

            – Sorry we’re so early.

            – Not at all. It’s nice to see you. You look very smart, both of you. Come in and I’ll introduce you to the others. Give me your jacket, Ray.

            – We brought some wine and a couple of beers.

            – Well, that’s very good of you. Thanks very much. Come on.

The other guests looked up at the new arrivals with some interest. They looked so young.

            – This is Raymond who used to live with Robert in Acton. And this is Ray’s good friend and flatmate Dennis. Now, this is Glenn, who has been in the wars. Christopher, former racing driver and Ed the grocer.

Dennis raised his right hook in greeting. Ray stood to attention and smiled.

            – Hello everyone. Good to meet you all. Can we take the handshakes as read?

            – Sit down anywhere you can find a space.

            – Thanks. Where’s Robert?

            – Out buying some gin. He won’t be long. What do you want to drink?

            – Couple of beers for us please, Peter. We can’t have too much because we have to drive.

            – Oh yes. Dennis got his invacar yesterday. How do you like it?

            – It’s wizard! It’s parked around the corner with two other invacars. I suppose they belong to people here.

            – One of them is mine.

Glenn waved his right hook. Dennis looked at him. His leather eyepatch fought for attention with his rigid steel peg leg.

            – I don’t know whose the other one is. Anyone else admit to arriving in a spazmobile?

Chris and Ed shook their heads.

            – Wouldn’t be seen dead.

            – Well, not everyone can afford to adapt an ordinary car, Chris.

            – Are you calling my Alfa Romeo ‘ordinary’?

            – You know what I mean. For legless young blokes like Den and Ray, a spazmobile is the best thing possible.

            – Well, of course it is. I’m only joking. So, have you been very far in it yet, Dennis? I bet you can’t wait to drive it around.

            – We went to Uxbridge this morning and then to Ruislip Lido for a cup of tea and now here. We only had to come from Ealing, not so far. But having the car makes it easier than jumping on the bus and we can wear our peg legs which we can’t do on the bus.

            – You have peg legs too? Why didn’t you wear them here?

            – I wanted to show off my tin legs and Ray is more comfortable in his stump boots.

            – Is that what you call them? I always call them stubbies. I must say, Ray, you look very impressive wearing them. Such an unexpected thing to see on such a young person.

Ray was sitting on one of the dining chairs with his boots pointing into the room. He looked simultaneously vulnerable and confident.

            – I love the look of a man walking on a peg. It’s such a defiant way of dealing with amputation. Glenn’s peg is shocking because it’s so unexpected and so assertive. Am I making any sense?

            – I wear a peg leg at work. Sometimes I wear it over my trousers so everyone can see it.

            – I thought you might still be a student. What do you do for a living, Raymond?

            – I’m a signalman in Southall signal box.

            – Oh, that sounds like fun. And you can manage it with a peg leg?

            – Yeah. I was worried about not being able to do the work after I was hurt but the peg gives me the stability I need to control signal levers and that sort of thing.

            – What happened to you, if you don't mind me asking, Ray?

            – I was outside when it was really foggy and I could hear a train coming but the fog muffled the sound and before I knew what was happening, I was hit by a locomotive and my legs were off.

            – Ouch.

            – So first I wanted a pair of wooden legs like Robert’s and then I ordered these boots and after that I got two peg legs too.

            – Two peg legs? Can you walk on two pegs?

            – Yes, but not very far. I should use a walking stick, I suppose. Dennis is going to make some shorter ones for us which are easier to walk on.

            – That’s very interesting. I was blown up in the Gulf. That’s near Arabia. The natives are getting restless so we’re over there trying to calm things down.

            – So you were a soldier?

            – Yup. Still am, officially. At least, they pay my wages. Anyway, I was driving along in my jeep and all of a sudden there was this huge flash of light. And when I woke up, I was deaf, blind in one eye – actually, they’d removed it, and my right side limbs were gone. That was ten days later. What happened was, I drove over a land mine, see?

            – That sounds terrible.

            – Yeah, it was but at least I get to wear a peg leg and a hook. That’s cool, don’t ya think? And I still have one pretty blue eye so I’m alright with this.

He took the eyepatch off with his hook and grinned at the young guests. It looked like he was winking. He was still a good-looking man.

            – I’ll leave this off.

He tucked the patch into his shirt pocket.

            – What happened to you, Dennis? Don’t get to see many quads your age.

            – I had septicaemia following meningitis. It was caught before it damaged my insides but my hands and feet were dead so off they came.

            – When was this?

            – About three months ago.

            – You must be kidding me! And you seem to be completely natural with it.

            – Well, why not? These are my hands now. They work a little differently from my old ones and my new legs are better looking than the previous ones – see the muscles? – so I feel fine with four new limbs. I’m going back to my job on Monday for a test run, just to make sure I can do what I need to.

            – What’s your job, Dennis?

            – I’m an apprentice carpenter.

            – Fuck me. And are you going to be able to carry on?

            – Well, that’s what I’m going to find out. I think I can use all the machinery. The only problem I have is turning something. I can’t use a screwdriver. I can’t imagine how I could ever use a screwdriver again, or anything I have to twist. But I can imagine being able to do everything else. I’m going to start making a stool on Monday.

            – You’re lucky. You still have your elbows. My arms are a bit clunky without elbow control. I have to say, I like the look of your black sockets. I’ve not seen that before.

            – They were pink like yours until Ray painted them for me a few nights ago. I was going to paint them with aluminium paint to match my legs but decided against it.

            – I think they look good like that.

            – How did you lose your arms?

            – I was seventeen and practising for a qualifying race in a gocart. Well, to cut a long story short, I came off the track and overturned and the kart caught fire. I was trapped underneath and the fire burned my hands off before I could be rescued. Then I had so many infections, they chopped my arms off halfway between my elbows and shoulders to stop it. Well, that did the trick. I'm still here today.

            – And now you’re an old man with hooks.

            – Shut up, Glenn. I’m twenty-seven.

            – That’s old if you’re twenty-three.

There was the sound of the front door closing. Robert appeared.

            – Hello, you two!  Good that you could come. I see you’re all settled nicely. I want to introduce Dan Wise who has recently undergone some revisions but is fine now.

A short figure with two very short peg legs crutched his way forward into the room.

            – Hello everyone. I’m Daniel Wise. Pleased to meet you. I see we all have something in common. I was not expecting this. Is anyone else legless?

Ray and Dennis raised their arms.

            – I’ll come and sit with you, then.

He hobbled over next to Ray and pulled a chair around to face the group. He dropped his crutches and heaved himself onto the dining chair.

            – Hello, I’m Dan. Who are you?

            – Raymond. Ray for short.

            – You have some smart boots there, Ray. I might get a pair like that. They won’t be as tall though.

            – I still have my knees.

            – Oh, I see. That explains the shape.

            – What happened to you?

            – Well, I was mountain climbing in the French Alps and a storm hit. So we were in our tent, listening to the wind howling and it blew the tent away. Then me and my mates were at the mercy of the elements. The storm went on for three days and by the end of it, we all had frostbite.

He held up his hands to show Ray the effects of frostbite. He had lost all his fingers and thumbs down to the first joint on both hands.

            – Well, that was bad enough but my feet turned black and rotten so off they came. And then I started to get bone spurs. You know, when the bones in your stumps try to regrow? So they amputated again. And again. I’ve had four double amputations in five years. Now it looks like we’ve beaten it but all I have left is two short stumps and a pair of stubbies.

            – They’re like tiny peg legs.

            – Well, that’s exactly what they are. I can either walk step by step with them or keep my stumps together and swing along on my crutches.

            – And you don’t mind?

            – I’m one of those rare men who like amputations. I didn't like the pain afterwards but I did like my new artificial limbs they gave me each time and some of my stumps looked really good.

            – Yes, I can understand that. I wanted a wooden leg like Robert’s before I lost mine. When it happened, I was perfectly happy with it. No-one else would understand, so I don’t say anything. You understand, don’t you?

            – Yes, I do. It’s great to wear artificial limbs. Even like this, I can carry on with my work.

            – What do you do?

            – I’m a potter. I make ceramics and stoneware. I have a little shop in Notting Hill and my boyfriend sells the things I make.

            – Oh, that’s interesting. Do you think you could make a cup or a mug which Dennis could pick up with his hook? The handles on ordinary cups are no good.

            – I’m sure I could. Let’s ask him.

Dennis was deep in conversation with Ed. Both were gesticulating with hooks. Dan waited for a brief pause before interrupting.

            – Dennis, Ray was just telling me that you have difficulty handling cups.

            – True enough. When I pick a cup up, it just tilts sideways.

            – Yes, I can imagine. I make pottery for a living, you see, and I reckon we could design something easy to handle with a hook. Would you like to come to my studio one evening and we could try to work something out?

            – That would be fun. Yes, I’d love to. Whereabouts is it?

            – Earl’s Court. Our flat is upstairs. Are you free next week?

            – Yes, I expect so. I’ll telephone you beforehand if you let me have your number.

            – Great. If it turns out well, I could make it part of a new range of items.

Robert brought two plates of sandwiches and put them on the table.

            – White bread has salmon paste and brown has cheese and tomato. Help yourselves.

 

It was an enjoyable evening. The older guests enjoyed having a few drinks with fellow amputees. Ray and Dennis managed to have two weak pale ales over three hours and were surprised to find that their stories were of interest to the older men. Ray’s self confidence when meeting strangers socially was growing gradually. They wished everyone a good night and left around eleven o’clock. Robert saw them to the door and spoke briefly with Ray.

            – I don’t get to talk to you at work. How are things with you?

            – Fine, thanks.

            – That’s good to hear. And you and Dennis get on well, do you?

            – Yes. I think Dennis has changed a bit since his illness but we’ve become closer. We get on really well. We both like being amputees and Den is really patient if he can’t do something. He’s never been angry.

            – Good. That’s all I wanted to ask, Ray. Just to make sure you’re alright. Good night. Drive safely.

 

Ray followed Dennis back home and they were in bed by midnight.

 

Dennis reminded Ray over breakfast that they were due to have a guest for elevenses.

            – Should we tidy the place up? I could vacuum the floors if you fix the bedroom.

            – Alright. I’ll wash up too.

            – Thanks. Do you want more coffee?

            – Just a drop.

They took turns to wash and dress. Ray walked around with the vacuum cleaner and put his sketch pad and pencils on the shelf out of the way. He collected a couple of old newspapers and took them to the kitchen. He straightened the chairs and thought the room looked presentable. Dennis sat on the bed and donned his legs in twenty minutes, then pulled the duvet flat and shook the pillows. There were a few stump socks on display. He put them into their proper place.

            – That didn’t take long. Oh, I just remembered. Give me the shirt we cut the arms off of. I’ll ask my mum if she can make it a short sleeved shirt and see what she says.

            – Would you ask her if she could turn a couple of pairs of my trousers into shorts too? I hate to impose. I’m sure she’ll say yes, regardless.

            – Don’t worry about it! It’s the sort of thing mums like doing. Do you want a cuppa? Or shall we wait for Whatsisname to arrive?

            – Ross. Let’s have a cuppa now and make coffee after he gets here. I hope he remembers to bring his pipes. The one I saw him with was really handsome, like one of your billiards but the bowl was twice as high.

            – I’m going to have a pipe now. Den, would you like to smoke one as well? Where’s your pipe?

            – It’s in one of the cubbyholes.

            – I’ll get it.

Ray fetched it and found his own short fat pipe in his jacket pocket. He brought the tin of tobacco with him.

            – Shall I fill your pipe?

            – No, fill yours first and I’ll try after. I might be able to tease the tobacco with my hooks.

            – Alright.

Ray filled his pipe and put it between his teeth. He pushed the open tin and Ray’s billiard across the table. Dennis scraped a hook across the tightly packed tobacco to loosen it and plucked a few loose strands with steel fingers. He held the pipe in his left hook and half filled it before separating more tobacco. Tendrils of smoke from Ray’s pipe floated above the table.

            – Looks like you’re doing very well.

            – I’m surprised. If I manage to light it, I’ll be even more surprised.

Dennis inspected the bowl and grunted his satisfaction. He tamped the tobacco and set the pipe down. He reached for the matches and thought about the best way to strike one. The match needed to be horizontal and pointing towards him. He checked his right hook and used the left to twist it slightly. He held the box of matches in his right hook and extracted one match with the left. He put the box down and transferred the match to his right hook. He stood the box on its edge, held it in place and tried striking the match. It lit on the third try. Dennis tried picking up the pipe and getting it to his mouth before the match burned out. Too late. He put the pipe down and picked up another match. This time he put the pipe between his teeth before striking the match. He sucked the flame into the bowl and puffed at the tobacco.

            – Did it!

            – Good show. I’ll get the tea.

Ray kept an eye on Dennis’s pipe in case it needed relighting. He would relight his own, or pretend to, and hold the match to Dennis’s at the same time. Pipe smoking was supposed to be pleasurable, not an exercise in frustration. Dennis held the pipe with his left hook and smoked for five minutes until their tea was ready. They drank it from mugs.

            – It will be interesting to see what kind of cup design Dan comes up with. It will have to be some kind of flange, something flat to grip with a hook. Or maybe two stubby wings to hold with two hooks.

            – When did you think of going to see him?

            – Maybe Tuesday. Mid-week anyway. If I go there straight from work, Earl’s Court isn’t so far. I’ll have to phone him to ask the address. We can arrange a time then. But if they live right above the studio, it’s not much of an inconvenience whatever time I arrive, is it? Can I borrow your map so I don’t get too lost?

            – Course you can.

The door buzzer sounded in the hall.

            – That’ll be Ross.

            – Punctual, isn’t he?

A couple of minutes later, Dennis escorted his guest into the lounge and they sat facing each other. Ray came from the kitchen and shook hands.

            – How do you do. Pleased to meet you. I’m Jack Ross. I hear you’re a pipe smoker too.

            – That’s right. Dennis and I were just having a smoke.

            – Oh, you smoke a pipe too, Dennis?

            – Well, not very often. It’s a complicated affair.

He lifted his hooks as explanation.

            – Yes, I can understand that it might not be easy. I brought some of my more unusual pipes which you might like to see, Ray.

He dug into his pockets and produced four pipes which he placed on the coffee table in a neat line. The fifth was the pipe with the tall bowl which he handed to Ray.

            – That was a gift bought in Italy. I think it’s my favourite pipe. I love its shape and it smokes very smoothly.

            – It looks very handsome. I’ll keep an eye out for a similar one.

He handed it back.

            – This next one is perhaps the most unusual. It has two bowls along the same stem. I think the idea is to fill them with different tobaccos to experience the mixture but I smoke only one bowl at a time. It’s a very extrovert pipe, isn’t it?

            – I’ve never imagined such a thing.

            – Then this one is called an Oom Paul. Oom means uncle in Dutch, I believe. Uncle Paul. Anyway, you can see it is a sharply bent pipe with another deep bowl. It is very comfortable to smoke because it just rests against your chin.

            – I have a similar pipe but it’s quite a lot smaller than this one. I haven’t really smoked it yet.

            – This next one is fairly short but very broad. It fits nicely between the teeth and stays in place. And last of all, another short pipe with a triangular stem. It also has quite a broad mouthpiece. The rest of my pipes are more traditional shapes.

            – These are all very interesting. Thank you for bringing them to show me. Would you like coffee or tea?

            – Coffee, please. Thank you very much.

            – Shan’t be long.

            – What a nice chap. He’s very young, isn’t he?

            – He is. Still a minor and I act as his guardian. But he has a job despite his disability and we live here together as equals.

            – He’s disabled?

            – Yes, he’s a double leg amputee.

            – I didn’t realise. I had no idea.

Ross’s imagination whirled at the thought of two leg amputees, one also missing both arms, sharing an apartment and leading otherwise normal lives.

 

Ray busied himself in the kitchen and asked if they preferred to have coffee in the lounge or in the kitchen.

            – Shall we go into the kitchen?

They rose in their own unique fashion, Ross twisting almost sideways to lift himself from the low seat. He spread his arms to balance on his artificial legs before taking a step. Dennis watched him. He looked reasonable enough. A bit older, maybe twenty-five. Ross glanced back to see if Dennis was following. He was becoming impatient to get down to business and he wanted to see Dennis naked with four artificial limbs.

            – Sit where you like. These stools are more convenient for us, you see.

            – And for me too. I am also wearing two prosthetic legs.

            – Oh really? I would never have guessed.

            – You flatter me, Raymond. But thank you.

Ray served espresso and sat at the table.

            – This building was easy to find with two invalid carriages outside. Now there are three. I came in mine and parked it with the others.

            – Did you have to come far, Ross?

            – Well, I live in Twickenham. It took me three quarters of an hour. About the same distance as to work in Acton.

            – Do you have your own flat or house?

            – I live in a tower block on the first floor. It’s not too far to struggle if the lift is out of order.

            – I hate stairs. My below knee stumps are too short to be useful. I might as well just have thigh stumps.

            – That’s what I have.

            – Will you show me the knee mechanism, please?

            – Well, there’s not much to see. There is a hydraulic piston inside the shell but I’m afraid I can’t tell you very much about how it works. It certainly doesn’t help in climbing stairs.

He pulled a trouser leg up and exposed his pink metal shin and knee.

            – You can see it better from the back. Sorry I can’t take it off just now.

            – It’s alright. Thanks. Well, it’s time for me to go and see my parents. I’ve got your shirt, Den. See you later. It was nice meeting you, Ross. Bye.

Ray put his jacket on, went down to his invacar and soon the sound of its motor faded away.

            – I want to see your legs too. Let’s go in the lounge. Take your trousers off, Ross.

 

Dennis grabbed Ray’s walking stick as they left the kitchen. Ross undid his trousers and let them drop. He had gone commando that morning and his large scrotum nestled against his thigh sockets. His penis was becoming engorged.

            – Step out of them, Ross.

Dennis gave him the walking stick. Ross fought to maintain his balance as he worked the trouser legs over his rigid feet.

            – Give me the stick.

Dennis fished the trousers up from the floor with the walking stick and threw them onto the sofa. Ross had become completely erect, excited by Dennis’s suddenly masterful commands and by watching him manipulate his hooks.

            – Now walk for me, you cripple. Go to the window and walk back. Very good. Now wait here.

 

Dennis went to the bedroom and retrieved his crutches from his closet. He handed them to Ross.

            – Use these and walk to the window again.

Ross obeyed.

            – Now sit and remove your left leg. Let it stand on the floor. Then walk to the window and back on crutches. Take that stump sock off. I want to see some stump.

Ross’s penis strained and twitched. He was edging closer. He had never been spoken to like this. He had come with something else in his mind. It was exciting being made helpless unexpectedly. Dennis rapped on Ross’s right artificial leg with the walking stick.

            – Is the stump in this the same as the other one?

            – Yes sir.

            – I hope so. Get up and walk for me. Walk now!

Ross struggled to push himself up with the crutches. His artificial legs were basic health service issue, not known for their versatility.

            – Lift your stump. I want to see it pointing at me. Very good. Stand there.

Dennis approached and took the left crutch.

            – Another circuit, you legless cripple. Keep the stump up. I’ll tell you when you can lower it.

 

Ross inched his way back towards the window leaning precariously on a single crutch. Turning around was even more difficult.

            – Move faster. Your stump is not pointing at me. Keep it pointing forward.

Ross leant against his crutch and ejaculated onto the parquet floor.

            – You will clean that later.

Dennis handed Ross the second crutch.

            – Go to the couch and remove your leg.

Ross crutched over and collapsed onto the sofa. He put the crutches on the floor neatly and set about removing his second prosthesis. He stood it beside its twin.

            – Take the sock off. I want to see your stumps. Spread your stumps. Do not allow semen to foul our furniture.

            – I have a handkerchief in my trouser pocket, sir. May I use it, sir?

            – Yes.

Ross found it as quickly as possible and wiped his penis. He glanced at Dennis watching him and wondered what might be next. He put the handkerchief into his shirt pocket.

 

Dennis approached and looked at the helpless man breathing heavily on the sofa. He picked up one of the artificial legs and took it with him to an armchair. He sat and inspected the leg’s construction and materials. His hooks clattered on the painted aluminium. He looked at the knee mechanism from the rear. The top of the socket had a wide leather strap attached to it. Ross obviously needed the extra security. With such short stumps, it was not surprising. Dennis lifted the leg onto the floor, careful not to damage or scratch it. He stared at Ross.

            – Get on the floor. Now move across to the window and come back. Do not drag yourself through your filth.

Ross carefully lowered himself to the floor. He would have to walk using his fists and swing his stumps along. Dennis looked at him thinking. He was perfectly aware of the man’s difficulty and did not intend to make him do more than one circuit but he wanted to watch a legless man’s stumps as he walked on his arse. The floor was clean except for the splatter of cum.

            – Come on! Get moving.

Ross leaned forward on his fisted arms and hopped into motion. He swung himself forward and maintained the momentum. He reached the window and turned himself around. Dennis was impressed with the man’s obedience. He decided he had taken it far enough. Time to let Ross have some fun without losing control of the situation.

            – Sit on the sofa again when you reach it and remove your shirt.

Ross swung himself past Dennis’s armchair and launched himself up onto the sofa. He pulled his shirt over his head without undoing the buttons and revealed a mat of dark chest hair.  He looked at Dennis with an expectant expression. Dennis stared at him for several seconds.

            – I want to feel your leg stumps. You will remove my artificial arms and stump socks and place them on the table.

Ross’s penis showed renewed signs of life. Dennis rose to his feet and went to sit where Ross was.

            – I want to sit there. Move up. When I turn my back, lift my harness over my head so it is across my chest. Do you understand?

            – Yes sir.

            – Have you done this before?

            – No sir.

            – Go ahead.

Dennis turned so Ross could do as asked. Dennis held his arms out to make the job easier. The harness was in front of him. Dennis bounced himself around to face Ross.

            – Take my arms off. Do not force them.

Ross inspected the left prosthesis. The biceps cuff was secured with two buckles. Obviously the boy tightened these every day for Dennis. He released them and held the cool black socket in his hand while working the cuff down past Dennis’s elbow. Suddenly the prosthesis was free. Too suddenly. The arm stump was much shorter than he had anticipated. His penis twitched again.

            – Now the other arm.

Ross repeated the procedure. He lifted both sockets and placed them on the coffee table.

            – Lie back on the sofa. Lift your stumps.

Ross put his hands behind his head and did as asked. He watched as Dennis reached forward with the stumps of his ruined arms and touched his right leg stump. It was an electrifying sensation. It felt wonderful and looked extremely erotic. Dennis moved his attention to the left stump, running his stumps around and over the bottom of his own destroyed legs.

            – Very good. Now I am going to fuck you. I want you wearing legs. Put your legs on.

Ross picked up his stump socks and donned them. Dennis used the walking stick to poke the right prosthesis closer. He watched with considerable interest as Ross lifted his metallic leg and slid his stump into the socket. It was almost exactly the same process he and Ray went through every morning despite the fact that they both had about twelve inches more stump than Ross. It confirmed the uselessness of their below knee stumps. Above knee stumps might be more convenient for both of them. It was something they would have to discuss and possibly suggest to their surgeons at the following check-up.

 

Ross asked permission to stand.

            – Yes. You need to buckle your legs to the belt. You may do so. Now, remove my trousers.

Dennis stood with legs apart. Ross pulled the trousers down and was rewarded with Dennis’s long penis hitting his face. Dennis held on to Ross’s shoulders as his unfeeling feet were guided out of his trouser legs.

            – Leave your clothes here and go to the bedroom. Lie on the bed and wait for me.

Ross rocked himself forward and walked slowly into their bedroom. He sat on the bed and manually lifted his legs. He lay on his back and waited. Dennis followed, pausing only to take a hand towel from his closet. He threw it towards Ross.

            – Put this under your cock and balls. Roll over and lie face down. And spread your legs.

Ross spread the towel and rolled onto it. The bed was the largest he had seen. He was able to spread his artificial legs wide. His arse cheeks opened. He felt the cool air on his anus. Dennis sat on the bed and leaned back. He used his elbows to position himself. He pushed with his left stump and lifted his right leg over Ross’s legs. Their legs clattered, metal on metal. Dennis used his elbows to lift his trunk and position himself so his penis would penetrate Ross’s straining arsehole. Dennis lowered himself and found the opening. His precum lubricated it and with his arm stumps encircling Ross’s chest, he slowly pushed his thick eight inch penis into Ross’s colon. He waited a second, rearranging his stumps for better traction and began to gyrate his pelvis. His excitement grew. He withdrew a couple of inches and arched his back for a stronger thrust. He gave in to the urge and began fucking rhythmically.

 

He pushed himself up and rested his stumps on Ross’s back. Their metal legs clashed with every thrust. Ross squirmed to relieve the pressure on his penis which was caught at an uncomfortable angle. Dennis pounded on. The sounds from their artificial limbs encouraged him to continue. Dennis shook as he ejaculated hard and strong into Ross’s arse and fell on top of his back. He cradled Ross’s head with his stumps. It was the final straw for Ross. He arched his back and pumped out another load. He had never before come twice in one session. He wanted more from this young master in future.

 

Dennis rolled off Ross’s back and lay beside him. Ross worked himself onto his right side and faced Dennis. They kissed long and slow. Their legs clanked as they moved.

            – You need to help me dress.

            – Yes sir.

            – You need to wash my cock first.

            – I know sir. Thank you.

            – Let’s do it. Raymond may be back any time. He only has lunch and returns as soon as possible. You may stay, of course, but I want to spare him the sight of our encounter.

            – I understand sir. Stay here and I’ll bring a towel to clean you.

            – The brown one is clean. Use that.

Ross twisted himself upright and pushed himself erect. He picked the towel up and took it to the bathroom with him. He wetted the clean towel, returned to the bedroom and gently cleaned his lover’s penis.

            – Throw the towels in the bath. I’ll see to them later. Don’t forget the living room.

            – Yes sir.

A minute later, Ross announced that the living room floor was clean and no sign of anything amiss was visible.

            – Thank you. Help me up and put my arms back on. I can do it myself but you like to do things like this, don’t you?

            – Yes sir.

Ross put the stump socks on Dennis’s arms and helped seat the sockets onto his stumps.

            – Hold your arms out please, sir.

Ross pulled the harness over Dennis’s head, careful not to muss his hair and straightened the harness across his back.

            – Please test your hooks, sir.

Dennis stretched and shrugged. His arms worked perfectly and felt comfortable.

            – Now dress me. Shirt first. Get me a pair of shorts from that closet. Third shelf down. Yes, those will do.

Ross gently but firmly moved his lover’s artificial limbs in order to fit the clothes. Dennis enjoyed every moment. Ray helped quite often but this kind of gentle care was never on offer. Dennis wanted more.

            – Come to the kitchen. Put your clothes on. I’ll make us some coffee.

 

Not certain of his present status following their session, Ross decided to continue to behave submissively. It was an attitude he had grown into naturally since early childhood in a household with an alcoholic, occasionally vicious father. It was reassuring to be himself with a father figure who would not hurt him, albeit younger than himself. He could act the teacher, the guide, the sympathiser at work. He was a grown man, after all. He had learned how professional people were expected to behave. But being dominated by a multiple amputee whose artificial limbs he had fondled was the most satisfying sexual experience of his life. He wanted to return. Dennis brought his trousers into the bedroom and waited for Ross to take them. The game was over.

 

            – That was fun. Thank you for co-operating.

            – I felt very safe with you. I’d like to see you again.

            – Yes, we seem to have what the other needs. You don’t have a partner, do you?

            – Well, you’ve seen how I am. It’s not easy finding a partner.

            – No, I suppose not.

            – You don’t have a sexual relationship with your friend, do you?

            – No, of course not. He’s still a minor. He is still immature. We will see how his sexuality develops. I will never force myself on him although I would love him to accept me as a partner. We sleep together every night but it’s more for convenience than anything else.

            – I think you’re very lucky, both of you. Two amputees helping each other is a wonderful solution to the problems which so many limbless people have to confront.

            – It is. I feel very lucky to have met Ray. Well, coffee is ready. I wanted to ask you about your stumps.

 

Dennis explained how his longer stumps afforded little knee control and mentioned that Ray had exactly the same problems. He asked how Ross managed on stairs and on uneven surfaces. They discussed their amputations and prosthetic solutions until they heard the front door open.

 

            – Good grief! What on earth have you been talking about? You’re still sitting where you were when I left!

            – Sit down, Ray. Have some coffee. We were talking about the pros and cons of below knee stumps and above knee stumps. I think I’m going to demand revisions.

            – You mean more amputations? What sort of stumps do you want?

            – I want stumps like Ross has.

            – Well, I don’t know what sort of stumps Ross has.

            – Would you like me to show you, Raymond?

            – If you don’t mind. I’d like to know.

Ross returned to the lounge and sat on the sofa. He removed his trousers again and doffed his right leg. Ray watched him.

            – My stumps are identical, by the way. Here, take a look at this leg now you can see the knee mechanism.

Ray picked the limb up and sat down in the armchair to inspect it more closely.

            – You need to wear a belt, don’t you? Is it comfortable?

            – It’s alright after it gets some wear. It’s stiff at first which isn’t so comfortable.

            – Den, have you seen this? Is this the sort of leg you want?

            – Yes, I had a look at it earlier. And yes, I want two like that. Look how well Ross walks. You didn’t even realise he was an amputee when he arrived.

            – No, I didn’t, although I wasn’t really looking to check. How do you feel about your stumps?

            – I like them. I always wanted to be an amputee, even when I was little. And then when it happened, I lost more than I ever imagined. I was worried for a while but after I started walking on my new legs, I began to enjoy the feeling. Quite often, I even like being inconvenienced. It’s as if I was meant to be this way.

            – I understand. I wanted a wooden leg. But I got two. It’s sort of the same thing, isn’t it?

            – Yes, I think it probably is. Would you like to have short thigh stumps too?

            – I thought about it until my doctor made some alterations to my artificial legs. Now I like these wooden legs as they are, as well as my stubbies and peg legs.

Ross rose to his feet.

            – They would be interesting to see some time. Well gentlemen, I’m afraid I must take my leave now. It has been very good seeing you both and I hope we can meet again before too long.

He shook Ray’s hand and went to the kitchen to say goodbye to Dennis.

            – Do get in contact about that other business if you feel the need. Goodbye Dennis.

He put his jacket on and checked he had the pipes he had brought. He let himself out.

            – Funny sort of man. Do you think he lost his legs on purpose?

            – I’m fairly sure it was no accident. It seems very unusual to be so upbeat about amputations like that if it was an accident. So, how are your mum and dad?

            – They’re fine. They send their best. Mum said she would sew your shirts and trousers on condition that you give them to her yourself and explain what you need. I think she meant that you are invited to Sunday lunch next week. They were both pleased about you getting your car.

            – Ah, that’s kind of her. It sounds like she’s ready to see the new me now. I’ll look forward to that.

            – What did you have for lunch?

            – Oh, er, we didn’t actually have any. Time got way from us and before we knew it, you were back.

            – Do you want something to eat?

            – Not really. I can wait for supper.

            – Shall we have another fry-up? There’s sausages.

            – Sounds good to me.

            

Dennis checked the bedroom and straightened the duvet. He picked the towels out of the bathtub and hid them in the dirty laundry basket. They sat in the lounge watching an ancient film on tv until, as usual, they drifted off to sleep together.

 

The start of a new week. Ray had the midday shift so had not set an alarm. Dennis woke at half past seven and looked at the alarm clock. He shook Ray, thinking he would be late for work.

            – Urgh, good morning. What?

            – The alarm didn’t go off. You’ll be late.

            .. No, I don’t start until eleven. Didn’t I tell you? Sorry. Next two weeks, eleven to eight.

Ray sat up.

            – But you’d better get a move on if you’re supposed to be at work by nine. Are you getting up? Put your arms on and let’s have breakfast. I’ll wash and dress you as a special treat.

            – Thank you kindly.

Ray donned his legs quickly and went to the bathroom. Dennis rolled out of bed and stumped over to where he had dropped his arms the previous evening. He put them on without stump socks. They would do for twenty minutes. He went to the lounge and heaved himself onto the sofa. Ray boiled some water for coffee and made toast. They ate sitting next to each other. Ray took his sketchpad from the shelf and tore out the page with the illustrations of the stool Dennis intended making.

            – You might need this to show your boss.

            – Yes, thanks Ray. I would have forgotten.

            – Come into the bathroom when you’re finished.

Ray washed himself and sat on the toilet seat to wash his stumps. He stump walked back to the bedroom dragging his wooden legs and put on fresh stump socks and thigh sleeves. He found a clean pair of trousers and fed his artificial legs with their Doc Marten boots through the trouser legs. He donned them and pulled his trousers up. A clean blue shirt and he was ready for work. He made sure he had a pipe and tobacco in his jacket. Dennis was finished with breakfast and Ray washed his face and stumps and donned his socks and limbs. Dennis wanted to wear his work dungarees. His artificial arms would be on full view all day.

            – Don’t forget I’ll be late. I’m going to Earl’s Court after work to see a Dan about a mug.

            – What? Alright. Give him my best.

 

Dennis set off at half past eight. There was a lot of early morning traffic especially on the North Circular. He pulled in to Stapleton’s yard at ten past nine and parked near the gate. He checked in with Marjorie to let her know he was back.

            – It’s lovely to see you again at long last, Dennis. Mr Stapleton asked me to tell you to go to the workshop and he’ll be along shortly. He wants to have a word, I expect.

            – Thank you. I’ll do that. See you later.

Dennis made his way across to the workshop. Marjorie McCall watched him walk with his slight swagger and his steel hooks catching the sun. Stapleton obviously saw promise in him, regardless of his physical abilities. She called him on the intercom.

 

Dennis’s workmates had known he would be returning and had prepared a surprise. After saying hello to them all and shaking their hands, the foreman, Les, guided Dennis into the Dregs, as they called their break room. There was a big cream cake in the middle of the circular table. Les started the boiler for tea and invited Dennis to sit down.

            – We thought we’d make it a bit special since you’re coming back. You start next week, don’t you?

            – Yup. I wanted to come in this week to find out what I can and can’t do. I’m hoping I’ll be able to make a stool for our bathroom from some of the off-cuts. I’ve got the blueprint here.

He fished the folded illustration out of his dungarees and handed it to Les. He opened it out and perused it.

            – I see. You’re making a stool with as little material as possible.

            – Well, that wasn’t the original plan, but yes, I suppose I am.

            – This drawing is very nice. Did you draw it?

Dennis laughed.

            – I’m not that good with these hooks yet, Les. No. I asked my flat mate to help me. I told him what I wanted and he drew it.

            – Did he now? What does he do for a living? Or is he still studying?

            – No, he’s a signalman on the railway. Works in Southall.

            – Well, he’s in the wrong business.

Stapleton, the owner, stepped into the Dregs and Dennis struggled to stand up.

            – No need, Dennis. Welcome back, son. I’m very pleased to see you. It’s good you’re here too, Les. Dennis, I want you to know that regardless of how you do this week, I want to keep you on here because you’ve always shown initiative. I mean, you’ve had some good ideas and I like that.

            – Take a look at this, Greg. Dennis just brought it in.

            – I was thinking I might try making it as practice, you see, sir.

            – This is a nice design. Just a simple stool but it has good proportions. Fresh. Different. This is exactly what I mean. Did you do this, Dennis?

            – My flat mate drew it as I described it. We need something like that in our bathroom because we, well, we don’t want to have to sit on the floor when we don’t have our legs on.

            – Would that be the young man who brought me the papers for your invalid carriage?

            – Yes. Raymond Martin. We share my flat. We both have the same sort of problem, you see, sir.

            – Not so much a problem, more an opportunity for you, Dennis. I suppose that must be your invalid carriage I saw in the yard. That’s a good place for it. You can park it there. But look at this! This is a very nice rendition. Have you got any more illustrations which Raymond has done?

            – He has a sketchbook at home with some other things we have been designing to solve some problems we have. I can bring it in to show you if he lets me.

            – Tell him I’m very keen to see it. I’m on the lookout for an illustrator for our next catalogue. I don’t like the line drawings we have at the moment. Too sterile. But this is very nice work. Well Dennis, I can’t sit here all day. You’re welcome to test, er, your hooks on all the machinery providing it’s not otherwise needed and let Les know if you run into any problems which you think might be fixed. Good to have you back, son. Les, can you drop in at about three?

            – Yes sir. Well, Dennis. I see you’re all kitted out already. Shall we go and have a look at the junk pile to see what we can find for your project?

Dennis found a chunk of wood to be cut into four legs and some two by four for the seat. They would be two by one before long. He would worry about the struts later.

            – I can get started with these, Les.

            – Good show. What I’m going to do, Dennis, is let you carry on as if nothing has happened. But we both know something has happened and every one of us is behind you. If you need a hand, er… sorry.

            – It’s alright. You were saying if I need a hand…

            – Yes, well, you just need to ask. We want to see you pulling your weight but we’re willing to give a bit of a tug every so often.

            – Thanks, Les. I understand. Right. Let’s get started.

Dennis took the raw materials to his workbench. He spread Ray’s drawing out and measured and marked the wood. He lifted the heavy piece and carried it resting on both sockets to the rotary saw. He used the planing machine to produce a smooth clean surface to the legs. The sharp edges were rounded by the router. Dennis inspected them and decided to give the outermost edges a half inch curve. The crossbars were next. He ought to be able to get them ready before lunch. His hooks clattered against the machinery. His co-workers occasionally paused to watch him stretching and shrugging,  manipulating his hooks. Dennis continued his work oblivious of the attention.

 

They broke for lunch. Some of his mates had packed lunches. The others went to a nearby café. Dennis joined them.

            – You look like you’re getting the job done, Den. What are you making?

            – A stool for the bathroom. So I don’t have to sit on the floor when I’m not wearing my legs. I have to give my stumps a good scrub before bedtime, you see.

            – Are they painful, Dennis? Your stumps, I mean? I would think scrubbing them would hurt like hell.

            – No, they don’t hurt. Not any more. They were sore after the operations but it’s like with fingertips. That’s where your fingers end and they don’t hurt, do they? Same with me. My legs and arms end a bit before where they used to but they don’t hurt and I don’t mind using artificial limbs. I’m actually beginning to like my hooks and what they can do.

            – I think you’re fucking amazing, I honestly do. I’m gonna treat you to lunch.

 

Dennis ordered sausage and chips. He used his hooks to eat them.

 

By the end of the day, Dennis had most of the slats cut and sanded. He wanted the top edges to be rounded. Tomorrow he would finish them, make the braces and start assembling it all. He would have to think of a good way to join them other than screwing the parts together. Screws were impossible.

 

Dennis left shortly before five and sat in his Invacar studying the best route to Earl’s Court. There were several residential roads running parallel to the main thoroughfares and Dennis drove along them to avoid congestion. Dennis parked his car on a side-street and strolled to Dan’s address. It was the entrance to a courtyard, leading to a small central garden. There were several small workshops around it. Dan’s pottery had a large cup and saucer hanging from ironwork above the door. He knocked and the door opened almost immediately.

            – Hello Dennis! Nice to see you. I’m glad you could come. Come in and have a seat. I just have to finish clearing up and then we can get started.

He busied himself at his workbench, rearranging tools, replacing cartons of glaze on shelves. The bench itself was only three feet high to suit a double amputee wearing thick cylindrical stubbies. Dan carried a bucket to a low sink and poured its contents away. He washed his hands and turned to Dennis.

            – Shall we have some coffee? I could do with a cup.

            – Yes please. Can you put mine in a mug with straight sides?

            – Like this one?

He held up a mug with no handle in both hands.

            – That’s exactly what I need.

            – We’re going to be designing drinking vessels, aren’t we? Take a look at the display and see if there’s anything you fancy.

There was a set of shelves facing the window with dozens of vases and bowls and pieces of crockery. Dennis could see several mugs which might be suitable. It was the shape of the handle which presented the problem.

            – I’ll let that brew for a couple of minutes. See anything you like?

            – The white one with black streaks is the size I’d like for tea and coffee.

Dan waddled over and picked it off the shelf, again with both hands. His finger stumps were too short to close around a mug. He put it on the table and Dennis picked it up for closer inspection.

            – Look what happens when I pick this up.

Dennis grabbed the handle near its top. As he lifted the mug, it tilted and would have spilled a good quantity of its contents.

            – Yes, I see. That’s what I’d imagined. Can I take a look at your hook? We may be able to use its shape to our advantage. Open it, please. So if the hook is in that position, a handle would need to be a flat horizontal surface you can grab. Can you turn the hook to another position? Try it with the prongs pointing up, if you can.

Dennis gripped his left hook and rotated his arm as much as he could a couple of times. The fingers pointed upwards.

            – What happens if you pick the mug up now?

            – I might drop it if I try but you can see that there are only a couple of tiny contact points with an ordinary handle. The mug would just slip out of my grip.

            – Yes, I suppose it would. What about a handle shaped like that but with grooves which match your hook? It wouldn’t be able to slip then.

            – That might work. We could try that. I was also thinking that a vertical hollow tube I could slip my hook into from below might work. The mug would rest on the hook and couldn’t fall off.

            – That’s a very good idea. I like that. It would be easy to produce, too. It would have to be fairly high on side of the mug for you to fit your hook under.

            – I think a two inch gap would be enough. I know what you mean but I am able to angle the socket a little.

            – Yes, I see. I’ll get that coffee.

He brought the cafetière and a couple of mugs to the table on a small ceramic tray specifically designed to hold them.

            – What I would really like is for you to leave a hook here with me so I can experiment with it.

            – I would, but I don’t really dare to today because I’m driving.

            – That’s what I thought. Well, I’ll make a copy of it.

Dan crossed to the back of the room and scooped a handful of red clay from a galvanised dustbin. He patted it into a rough disc and threw it onto the table. He eased it up and inspected the flattened bottom.

            – That will do. I want you to make an imprint of your hook in the clay. It’s going to act as a mould. I’ll make a replica of your hook in clay as soon as that dries a bit and I can use it to size and shape things.

He wiped his hand clean on his overall. Dennis twisted his hook back to its normal horizontal position and dragged the disc to the edge of the table. He angled his arm and pressed his hook into the soft clay. He looked at the imprint.

            – Is this alright?

            – Perfect. How do you like that mug?

Dan moved the disc to the centre of the table, picked up a sugar cube with his thumb and forefinger stumps and dropped it in his coffee. Dennis twisted his hook again.

            – This is fine. I mean for the size. And I can get my fingers around it to pick it up.

            – Is that what they’re called? Fingers? I was calling them prongs.

            – Well, I knew what you meant. Yes, a mug this size is perfect. It holds a nice amount of liquid, I can grab it with no problems and if it had a tube handle it would be even better. Also if it had a horizontal handle around the top I could grip that securely.

Dan picked up his mug with both hands and tasted his brew.

            – I wonder sometimes if I might do better in life with a pair of hooks instead of these finger stumps but of course, I wouldn’t be able to carry on here.

            – No, I can’t imagine myself making pottery. But I’ve been making a bathroom stool today. Halfway done.

            – Well, that’s something I couldn’t do. I don’t think I could manage carpentry with these hands. It’s interesting how we adapt, isn’t it? I know from my own experience that my disabilities restrict me from producing certain shapes and using certain processes but they also help me produce consistent work.

            – Why is so much of your work back and white? Why don’t you use other colours?

            – I like simplicity. My shapes are simple because of these…

He wriggled the stumps on his hands.

            – … and I rather like traditional Japanese designs which concentrate on shape rather than decoration. I abhor Wedgwood, for example. Also, the black you refer to is iridescent in sunlight. If you look closely, you can see the colours of the rainbow in it. That’s all the decoration I want in my work.

            – It is rather beautiful.

            – Thank you for saying so. How many mugs shall I make? I can make tall ones you could use for, say, orange juice, and shorter ones for tea. Will half a dozen of each be enough?

            – Oh, three would be more than enough!

            – Are you sure? Alright. I can’t promise you when they’ll be ready because I fire the kiln only on Sundays and it depends on how much room there is but it won’t be long before I have something to show you. I’ll make some test pieces. Then you can choose what you like and I’ll make you the set.

            – That’s very good of you. I’m impressed with your work. It has an honesty about it. I can’t explain it any other way.

            – No, well, there’s a new movement, or actually, it’s being revived from the nineteen thirties. It’s called ‘form from function’. It just means that things should be the shape they need to be and nothing more. No flowers, no decoration, no pointless colour. Just the shape. But the shape should be as stylish as possible. And that’s what I like and what I can still produce. You can imagine I’m fairly useless with a paintbrush.

            – Yes, I see. It all makes sense. I try for the same kind of thing with my woodwork designs. Like for example, there’s no reason a table leg should look like a lion’s paw.

            – Ha! No. They look really terrible, don’t they? Not something I would choose for myself.

            –Well, thank you for having me. I ought to be getting home. Ray will be back soon.

            – I’ll give you a call when I have something to show you. Let’s try to make it the weekend and you can bring Raymond too. Tell him to wear his stump boots.

            – Ha! Alright, I will.

Dennis rotated himself to his feet and raised a hook in farewell. He made his way back to his car, made a U-turn and drove north to Shepherd’s Bush and along the Uxbridge Road towards West Ealing and home. He stopped to buy a couple of gallons of petrol in Ealing Common and revisited the shop where he had bought his stickers. The shop assistant sold him two stickers proclaiming No Hand Signals. Ray’s car would soon explain that he suffered from hangnails.

 

He had a letter waiting for him from Hillingdon Hospital. His stump boots were ready at last and awaited collection at his earliest convenience. That would have to be Wednesday. Ray asked him how the day had gone. Dennis mentioned that Ray’s illustrations and drawings had made an impression and his boss had asked to see some more examples. They looked through Ray’s sketchbook and removed their fantastic ideas for peg legs and stump boots. Dennis left the sketchbook by the door to remind him to take it with him in the morning.

 

Back at Stapleton’s the next morning, Dennis reviewed what he had made. The seat needed bracing. He thought he would try using short lengths of dowel glued in to drilled holes to hold the components together. He went to the off-cuts pile for some half inch dowel. There were a few grimy pieces which would do. He also found two more large blocks which might come in useful for peg legs. He made a note of them but left them where they were for the time being.

 

The bracing required accuracy. Dennis checked the measurements and tolerances several times before making any cuts. He made the rest of the slats and sanded them, rounding their top edges. A bit of arithmetic produced the spacing required for eight inch-wide slats for the seating. Dennis asked Les if he could set up the drill stand with a suitable drill bit for him. He was unable to close the chuck tightly enough. Dennis drilled through the legs and into the ends of the braces and slats. The top left and right parts of the frame had regularly spaced holes drilled along their top edges. He had all the parts he needed and if he had calculated correctly, the parts should fit together neatly. Les came over, alerted by the silence of the drill.

            – Everything alright, Dennis? Need a hand with something?

            – Well, I think I’ve got all the bits I need. I could use a hand to assemble it.

            – Right. Well, I’ll help if you show me what to do.

            – Thanks. Let’s take these bits back to my bench. I’m going to have to saw some dowel in a minute and find some glue after that.

            – Are you gluing it together? Will it be strong enough?

            – I’m hoping it will be. See what you think.

 

Dennis found a few short pieces of dowel and used a mallet to pound them into the four legs. He hammered the lower braces into place and fixed the other two legs to them. He repeated the process with the top bracing. The seat was ready for testing. Dennis pulled it upright and checked to see if it was true. It was.

            – I think the dowel is holding so well that I’m not going to use glue.

            – In that case, all you need to do is saw the excess off the dowel pegs. Have you used a handsaw?

            – No, not yet. I was wondering how to go about it.

            – Well, let me do it now and you can work at it later. Are you going to put the slats on now?

            – Might as well.

Dennis took several pieces of old dowel to the rotary saw and cut sixteen two inch lengths. He dropped them into his overall’s pockets. The slats all matched up with their holes and sat firmly against the frame. Les used a small handsaw to cut the excess off all the pegs, careful not to scratch the seat itself.

            – Now you need to file them flat and sand them. You can manage that, can’t you?

            – I think so. Thanks Les.

Dennis worked for another hour and a half tidying the exposed ends of the dowel pegs. They made an unusual regular pattern along each side of the seat. It was finished. Les came over again and inspected it. The seat felt solid and was surprisingly light. The slats looked fashionably modern and would avoid the kind of damage from water pooling on a seat.   

            – Are you going to varnish it? I think you should if it’s going to be in a bathroom.

            – Well, I was going to do it at home.

            – Don’t be daft. You can use a drop of the company’s varnish, Dennis. Take a break for lunch now and do it this afternoon. Mr Stapleton mentioned yesterday that he wanted to see the finished article before you took it home. I don’t think he expected to see it today, though. Make it look nice.

            – Thanks, Les. Right. Back in half an hour.

 

Dennis took a half crown out of his wallet and put it in his pocket. He was late for lunch. His colleagues had had theirs and returned to the workshop. He looked at what was on offer. He could have sausage and chips again. They were easy to handle. He decided on mashed potato with meatballs. He could handle a fork easily enough. He paid and the cashier gave him tenpence change. He took the coins gingerly in his left hook and put them in his pocket. One or two of the other diners watched him eat his meal. It was unusual to see a man using a hook. This bloke seemed to have two of them.

 

Les had opened a new tin of wood varnish and found him a decent paintbrush and left them on Dennis’s bench. He noticed them straight away and lifted a hook in thanks when he caught Les’s eye. He turned the seat upside down and quickly varnished the undersides and inner surfaces. Righting the seat, he paid more attention to coating the wood evenly. The light wood took on a pleasing, richer colour. The varnish would protect the seat against damp as well as looking more professional. Les heard Dennis replacing the lid on the tin of varnish with a clatter and strode over to see the end result.

            – That looks very smart indeed. Well done, Dennis. You’ll have to leave that here to dry for twenty-four hours but you’ll be able to take it home tomorrow.

            – Actually, that was something I should have told you. I can’t be in tomorrow because I have to go to the hospital to pick up some equipment I ordered. But I’ll be back in on Thursday, if that’s alright.

            – Of course it’s alright. You’re not supposed to be in until next week, anyway. You can come and go as you please this week.

            – And the other thing is that I brought my friend’s sketchbook with some more drawings in it. Mr Stapleton said he’d like to see them, didn’t he?

            – Yes, he did. I’d like to see them too.

            – It’s in my car. I’ll go and get it.

He fetched it and Les came back to look at it.  Ray had illustrated another seat, a high-backed chair with a slatted back and a thick cushion on the seat. The seat was considerably lower than normal. Ray explained it was a design intended for their living room after they had taken their legs off. Dennis’s idea for a wooden handle to slot over the kitchen taps seem to leap off the page. Ray had exaggerated the perspective and contrast. It was a mysterious object until Dennis laughed at Les’s confusion and explained what it was for. Then there was a wooden block with a union jack pattern gouged into it. It was the idea Ray had learned from his tutor, Mr Patterson, for a way of altering the angle of a hook without needing to bash it against something. It was so skilfully drawn that it looked three dimensional.

            – Does your friend know that this is professional quality work?

            – Really? I mean, I can see they’re nice drawings but I haven thought about Ray drawing for a living. He’s too fond of the railways to want to change jobs.

            – How old is your friend, Dennis? Has he already left college?

            – Oh, he’s nowhere near college age! Les, he’s only a minor still. He’s just turned sixteen.

            – Oh for heaven’s sake! The boy needs some career advice. He has so much talent he could have a brilliant career as an illustrator or in advertising, for example. Look, let me show these to Mr Stapleton and you can be sure that I’m going to tell him what you’ve just told me.

            – Alright. Ray will be pleased when I tell him.

            – As well he should be. Look, I’m going to invite Stapleton across to see what you’ve made and then as far as I’m concerned you can either call it a day or make your tap handle. You’ve got some dowel left over you could use for that.

            – Good idea. Yes, I think that’s what I’ll do.

Les wandered off with Ray’s sketchbook and shortly left carrying it. He crossed to the office and asked Marjorie to tell the boss Dennis had already completed his project.

 

Dennis found a quarter inch thick off-cut about a foot long and four inches wide. It would do. Instead of making a simple lever he could push with a hook, he intended to make a hole at the end big enough to put his steel fingers through so he had leverage pushing or pulling. Two inch long prongs would be more than enough but not so long they would catch on anything. The lever would stay in place if it was not being held. Dennis imagined the end result as being about three inches wide and seven long. He sawed the cut-off to size and sanded it smooth on all sides. He thought about rounding the edges but that didn’t matter. A length of dowel provided four two inch long pegs. He needed Ray’s notated illustration before he could drill the holes in the off-cut but he could try making the hole for his hook. He would need a jig saw. He was not sure he could manage one. A hole an inch in diameter would be more than enough. He could mark out a hole that size and drill through the middle of it to slip a jig saw into. Maybe Les could saw it for him. He went to the Dregs and poured himself a mug of slightly over-brewed tea. How could he adapt his tools so he could hold a saw?

 

Les went in to Mr Stapleton’s office and placed Ray’s sketchbook on his desk.

            – Just look at these! The lad is sixteen and did these as rough sketches for Dennis. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Stapleton turned the pages slowly, savouring the skill behind the sometimes baffling images he was seeing. He had attended art school himself until it was interrupted by the war. He never went back.

            – Do I understand that the chap who drew these is working on the railways?

            – Yes, that’s right. And he’s only just sixteen years old. Left school early, got a job, almost killed in an accident and lost both legs, and still went back.

            – Absolutely extraordinary. Do his parents have no idea about his talents?

            – I don’t believe they realise. And according to Dennis, Raymond was always determined to work on the railway somehow. It’s his greatest interest.

            – Well, interests can change. Sixteen, you say? I dread to think that my career would have been set in stone at sixteen. Would you tell Dennis that I would like to have a chat with both of them here next Saturday morning at ten o’clock? I have a proposal in mind for both of them. Now then. You tell me Dennis has his project finished. I wasn’t expecting to see anything before Friday. Did he have much help?

            – I set up the drill for him. That’s all. He’s even thought out how to assemble the seat without screws.

            – Really? Now that does sound interesting. Well, Les. I’ll let you go and I’ll be over in a few minutes. I have to make a couple of phone calls first.

 

Dennis had the bits ready for his lever. He needed Ray’s sketchbook back in order to place the holes for the dowel. In the meantime, he watched one of his workmates etching a rococo design into something like a skirting board but which would encircle a room at waist height in Hampton Court. Stapleton had won a bid to deliver woodwork for the renovation work started several years previously. The shapes formed almost automatically as his colleague positioned the wood and the drill head for the next inch or two and guided it carefully. He looked down at his steel hooks and realised he could do exactly the same thing, assuming he knew the pattern. He also thought it was a skill he would never use on any piece he designed himself.

            – Alright, mate?

            – Yup. You don’t mind me watching, do you?

            – Be my guest. Wanna have a go?

            – Er, not just yet, thanks Chris. I’ll leave stuff like that to the experts.

            – You’re pretty fucking expert yourself, excuse my French. Didn’t take you long to get that seat together, did it? Bloody marvellous, that’s what I call it.

Les arrived with Mr Patterson. Dennis noticed and went back to his workbench. Patterson stood looking at the seat in wonder at the speed at which it had been produced and the appearance of the piece. He knew it had just been varnished and did not dare touch it.

            – Dennis, this is phenomenal. I love the look of it. Apart from the length of the legs, which I understand, don’t worry, this could be in any wet room. I love the way you’ve rounded the edges along here.

He indicated the slats.

            – I don’t often see that attention to detail. And to think you’ve done this in under two days using your, er…

            – It seems that my hooks are more versatile than I expected, sir.

            – Well, it certainly looks that way. Dennis, I have been looking at the drawings your friend made and I want to have a serious talk with both of you on Saturday morning. I hope you’ll be able to be here. If you could be here about ten in the morning, I’d like to have a chat.

            – Well, I don’t know for sure whether Ray has a shift on Saturday or not but otherwise we’ll be here at ten. Can I telephone you tomorrow? By the way, I have to get some new prosthetic stuff from the hospital tomorrow. I hope that’s alright.

            – Of course it is. You’re still on furlough as far as I’m concerned. Come and go as you like. Dennis, I’m very impressed with this seat. It’s very stylish and you’ve used less material than I expected. So, will you remember Saturday at ten?

            – Yes sir. Thank you.

 

Dennis remembered his walking stick idea. The stick was on the floor of his car so he strode across the yard to collect it. Back in the workshop, he asked one of his colleagues to measure the distance from the end of his socket to the floor. He added an inch and marked the stick. He cut the handle off and drilled a half inch hole in the centre of the cut surface. He needed a half inch bolt about two inches long, one end of which would be permanently attached to the end of the stick and the other would screw into his arm socket. Les walked over, on his way to the Dregs, and Dennis asked if there might be any suitable bolts available. Les thought there might be some in the storeroom.

            – What do you need it for? I thought the seat was ready.

            – Oh, it’s not for that. I’m converting a walking stick so I can screw it into the socket here. We were at Ruislip Lido last weekend and found that neither of us could walk in the woods because the ground was so uneven. So I thought a stick might be good and this is the only way I can use one.

            – I get it. Hang on a minute while I get some coffee.

 

Dennis prepared to remove his right hook. He opened it and held it open by wedging it against the edge of his workbench. He used his left hook to persuade the cable out of its notch on the hook’s thumb. The cable skittered up the socket. Dennis twisted his body to the left to loosen the hook and pulled it away from the bench. Now he would either have to try unscrewing the hook himself or ask someone to do it for him

            – Right. Let’s find you a bolt.

            – Les, can you unscrew this hook, please? I ought to make sure the thread is suitable. It should be. This is a standard half inch thread.

Les put his coffee down and took hold of Dennis’s upheld arm socket.

            – I just twist it off, do I? I haven’t done anything like this before.

            – Ha!  No, I don’t suppose so. Thanks, Les.

They walked to the stockroom and Les located a suitable three inch bolt.

            – Let’s try this. Lift your arm up.

The bolt turned smoothly into the socket.

            – Bingo! How long does it need to be?

            – Well, just over an inch screwed into the stick and just under an inch poking out of it. So two inches will do.

            – OK. Let me drink this and I’ll be over in a minute. Take five and get yourself some coffee. It’s fresh. We need a metal saw and a file, don’t we?

            – Yep. That’s all.

            – Good show.

Les went to his work desk and sipped his drink. He scribbled a few notes about the problems Dennis had asked for help with, including unscrewing his hook. He would have a think and see if he could come up with a solution. It was an interesting problem. He had never considered anything to do with artificial limbs before. He finished his coffee and went over to where Dennis was tidying his work bench with the bolt still sticking out of his socket.

            – Let’s have a look. I take it that the bolt should be screwed into your arm as far as possible, right? And you reckon a couple of inches deep for the stick? That would mean about a quarter of an inch off this. Hold your arm out and I’ll unscrew it.

Les placed the bolt into a vice and took a short metal saw from his overalls. He removed the head and a bit. He took a metal file from another pocket and removed the burr from the bolt and the bolt from the vice.

            – Shall we try screwing this into the stick?

Les inserted the freshly cut edge into the hole Dennis had drilled and screwed it with his fingers as far as he could. He put the bolt back into the vice and screwed the stick into the bolt until only three quarters of an inch remained. That would screw into the socket.

            – I think that this is screwed in so tightly that it won’t work itself loose. Almost ready. Hold your arm out and let’s try it.

Ten seconds later, Dennis stood with his new walking stick. He walked a few yards and leaned on the stick as he turned himself around.

            – This feels very good. Thanks very much, Les. Would you mind putting my hook back on? I think I’m going to call it a day.

            – Up to you. Don’t forget to tell your friend about Saturday morning. I don’t know what his nibs is planning but if he’s coming in special on a weekend morning, it must be good. Do you need this cable somewhere? Where does it go?

Dennis explained how it fitted onto the thumb.

            – You have to pull the hook open but mind your fingers because it has a nasty bite. Then the little ball bearing goes into the hole on the thumb – the prong sticking up.

            – Is that what they call it? A thumb?

            – Yeah, and the two parts of the hook are called fingers.

Les anchored the cable and gingerly removed his fingers from the hook. He could feel its force.

            – Right you are. Well, will we see you on Thursday?

            – Yep. I want to use the lathe for some turning.

            – It’s good you’re getting some practice in on all the machines. What are you going to make? Anything special?

            – I’m going to make some peg legs.

            – Bloody hell!  First time for everything, I suppose. Alright, Dennis, see you.

Dennis picked up his new walking stick and shouted a farewell to his workmates.

 

Dennis stopped for some groceries on the way home. Ray would probably want something when he arrived back. He fancied bacon and eggs. And a loaf. Customers recoiled in horror at Dennis’s artificial arms. He noticed and was amused by their reactions. He was not wearing a T-shirt and it was the first time his artificial arms had been on public display in their entirety. What would they think if they could see his legs too? He should roll his trouser cuffs up and flash a bit of metal. He had perfectly handsome calves. They were just an odd colour.

 

Dennis had hours before Ray got home. He found some paper and practised his handwriting. He had another idea. The pencils and pens he practised with were awkward to hold in his hook. He could make a disc or something similar which he could grasp easily and drill holes of various sizes around its edge which would hold a pen or pencil. He made a note of it to remind himself. pen disc. He wrote a line of loops. Some of them looked alright. A row of diagonal lines. He wrote his signature over and over again. It was nothing like his old signature but he wanted something he could write reliably, more or less recognisable as Dennis Wilson. Esses were hard. He wrote his address and his phone number. That would be handy to master. Ah, but it was all part of mastering his hooks for delicate work anyway. He wrote rows and rows of numbers from zero to nine. The page was full of his doodling. He made himself some coffee and considered going for a drive. But the roads would soon be busy. Better stay home. He could wash some laundry. Those towels needed washing before they started to stink. He took his legs off to tackle the job. From tomorrow, he could don stump boots at home. The anticipation of wearing them, thinking about them, helped pass the time while washing and rinsing the laundry. It would dry overnight beside the kitchen window on a clothes horse. They needed a washing machine. There was room for it in the kitchen. It would save so much effort. He would discuss it with Ray when he was home. Dennis stumped into the lounge and watched television until he heard the front door open.

 

            – Hi Ray! Had a good day? Do you want some supper?

            – Hello. Yes please. What have we got?

            – Bacon and eggs. They’re quick.

            – Good. Let me get my legs off first.

Ray went to the bedroom and removed the wooden leg and peg leg. He stood them against the wall still wearing his trousers. He put a thick pair of socks on over his stumps.

            – I’ll cook. Are you having some too?

            – Yes. I haven’t eaten yet. I was waiting for you.

            – Oh, alright. What sort of a day did you have?

            – Well, the most important thing is that my boss wants to have a word with us on Saturday morning at ten.

            – Really? What about?

            – No-one knows. But my foreman reckons it must be something pretty special.

            – I suppose we could go and find out what he wants. He wants to see me too, you say? That’s odd.

            – Yeah. And the other thing is that our bathroom seat is ready and varnished and I made myself a walking stick which screws into my socket. I tested it and it feels quite good.

            – Great! I’m looking forward to not having to sit on the floor. Are you going to make another one for the bedroom? That would be useful.

            – I think I probably will but not this week. I’ve found some fairly decent wood I think I can use for peg legs.

            – Make them for yourself. I don’t really need them, do I? I know you want to try them out.

            – Alright, if you’re sure. I think I’m going to have six inch long pegs on mine. Maybe eight. If I can get them done by the weekend, I’ll be spoiled for choice. I’m getting my stump boots tomorrow.

            – Oh yes, I forgot.

            – There was another thing I wanted to ask you. Shall we buy a washing machine? They’re a bit expensive but we could buy one on the never-never.

            – What’s that?

            – It means you pay a couple of quid every week until you’ve paid in full but you get what you’re buying straightaway.

            – Well, I think it would be great if we didn’t have to wash everything by hand in the bath. We can take a look in the shops if you like.

            – Let’s do it.

 

They both slept in the next morning. They had a leisurely breakfast. Dennis asked to borrow Ray’s grey shorts again.

            – If I change out of my long legs, I can wear the boots and shorts home.

            – Help yourself.

            – Leave the washing up. I’ll do it when I get back from the hospital.

            – No, I’ll do it now. You might not be tall enough to reach this afternoon.

            – Good point. I’m really looking forward to seeing what they’ve made. It would be good if the boots have great big thick rubber soles on them like yours.

 

They left together at ten thirty. Dennis followed Ray as far as Southall Town Hall and waved goodbye to him. He pulled in to the hospital’s car park just after eleven. He grabbed his shorts and checked in at Reception.

            – Hello Dennis. Nice to see you again. How are you? I see you have an appointment with Dr Young. I’ll let him know you’re here.

She spoke into an intercom.

            – That’s new. Saves a lot of running around, I bet.

            – Yes, it does. The doctor will fetch you in ten minutes. How have you been managing?

            – I’ve been back at work this week, just practising. I made a bathroom stool. The boss seemed impressed with it. I was fairly surprised myself. I can do much more with my hooks than I thought.

            – I’m so glad to hear it, Dennis. We all wish you every success.

 

Dr Young appeared and shook Dennis’s hook.

            – Hello, Dennis. Come and try your boots on. I’m awfully sorry they’ve taken so long. There was a problem with the first version they made, apparently. Too flimsy. So they set about making a new reinforced pair only to notice that they didn’t have enough of the special thick leather. Anyway, now you can try them.

They went into Young’s workshop and Dennis spotted his boots immediately. They looked very imposing. The sole was indeed a thick wedge of rubber but instead of being completely flat, the front two inches curved upwards. The front of each boot was an expanse of smooth black leather but the rear extended three inches to accommodate Dennis’s stump. The boots curved smoothly to the heel. Dennis tapped the boot.

            – This feels solid.

            – Well, there’s a cork filler to help the boot keep its shape. There are also steel reinforcements on each side but the leather is thick enough to hide them. Well, if you take your legs off, you can try the boots on. How have they been, by the way? Any discomfort?

            – None at all. I pad my stumps with woollen stump sleeves and pull the lacing as tight as I can. The legs stay on, they don’t chafe and I haven’t had any problems with them so far.

            – I’m glad to hear it. I expect you’ll have to lubricate the knee joints before long. Use sewing machine oil, just a drop. Right, hold out your left leg.

 

Young pushed the heavy stump boot up Dennis’s thigh. He bent his knee when his stump touched the inner sole and his stump slid into its custom extension. Instead of lacing, there were two straps with buckles near the top of the boot. Young secured them both.

            – How does that feel?

            – Astonishing. Amazing. It fits very well. My stump feels very comfortable.

            – Good. Other leg. Are you going to change back into your legs or are you going to leave wearing these?

            – I intended wearing these. I brought a pair of shorts with me.

            – Good show. Well, let me help you down and you can try walking on them.

Young lifted his patient by his armpits and lowered him to the floor. Dennis transferred his weight from side to side, feeling the odd sensation of total rigidity. He stepped forward and realised the heel struck the ground further back than he was accustomed to. He waddled across the room, walked along the parallel bars watching himself in the mirror and returned to the examination table.

            – Very nice. I’ll take them.

            – Ha! Glad to hear it. Just sign this form and they’re all yours. If you find them beginning to slip, just add some stump socks. If you don’t have any already, I suggest you buy some thick ones, ten-ply, something like that.

Dr Young handed his pen to Dennis and was impressed to see his patient adjust the pen’s angle and write his signature confidently and legibly.

            – You’ve made great strides with your handwriting. Congratulations, Dennis. Keep it up. Well, you’re set to go. Can you manage your legs like that?

            – Yes, thank you. My Invacar is just around the corner.

            – Oh, you’ve got yourself one of those, have you? They’re lots of fun, aren’t they? If they weren’t so plug ugly, everyone would want one.

            – I don’t mind what it looks like. I love it. It makes life so much easier.

            – That’s the whole idea. Goodbye, Dennis. Get in touch if you have any problems.

 

Dennis waddled past the Reception desk, kicking his thighs forward. The boots looked extraordinary. Dreadfully ugly orthopaedic footwear for a severely disabled invalid, able only to waddle. Dennis loved the image he was projecting. Let them look. He carried his artificial legs bent over his artificial left arm and made his way back to his car. Everything would have been perfect but for the fact that his keys were still in his left trouser pocket.

 

He slid the door of his car open and pushed his legs into the rear of the car. He leaned in and supported himself with a hook on the seat and worked his thighs into the car. He pulled himself into the seat and leaned forward to start the ignition. It was a little awkward without the support of his artificial legs on the floor. The little car coughed into life and Dennis curved away from the car park and onto the lane leading to the Uxbridge Road. He glanced down at his gleaming thighs with the thick rubber feet pointing straight ahead. He felt himself severely disabled and extraordinarily enabled.

 

Instead of going home directly, Dennis drove along Ealing Broadway looking for a shop which sold domestic appliances. He spotted one and turned off the main road at the next side road. Oblivious of the stares he was attracting, he waddled back to the shop and pushed the door open.

            – Good afternoon, sir. May I be of assistance?

The shop assistant looked at Dennis in dismay. The hooks repulsed him.

            – Yes. I’ve decided we need a washing machine at home. Can you show me some models which don’t take up too much space? It has to go in the kitchen and we don’t have a huge amount of room.

            – Is it for a large family, sir?

            – No, no. there are only two of us. We don’t anticipate any more.

            – I see. Well, we have these two models which wash but do not spin dry. Then there are these two twin-tubs which wash on one side and spin dry on the other. And last of all is the premium model which does both with the one tub.

            – How much is that?

            – A hundred and five guineas, sir.

            – I wanted something rather more economical. How much is that smaller twin tub?

            – Thirty-five guineas, sir.

            – And is it guaranteed?

            – Yes, for eighteen months against manufacturing errors.

            – I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that I am disabled. Will I be able to operate it with hooks?

            – This model has buttons for selecting the three different washes. This is the on–off button. I think you could operate it, sir.

            – Yes, I think I probably could. Hmm. I’m tempted to buy it but I’m not sure I can afford it at the moment.

            – Oh, we have credit available, sir. Pay five pounds now and the rest over six months. That means, just a moment while I check the table… one pound seven shillings a week.

            – That sounds very affordable. Will you deliver it?

            – We will indeed, sir. Will anyone be at home next Monday morning, sir?

            – If you can deliver it before ten in the morning, yes.

            – I’ll make a note of it for the deliverymen. You will be the first on the schedule after eight o’clock.. Follow me please, sir, and I’ll write out the order and credit agreement.

Twenty minutes later, Dennis owned a washing machine. Or at least, he would when it was paid for. Ray could sign for it. Dennis would have to leave at eight. Back to work on Monday. Dennis tried striding forwards with his stump boots instead of swinging his thighs around. It felt a little odd. The heel was further back but there was no danger of tripping. Passers-by looked askance at his grotesque black boots and the steel hooks barely clearing the pavement. Dennis entered his car, drove home and carried his legs upstairs.

 

He wanted to see himself walking in the boots. He wanted to see himself in profile. They really should get themselves some full-length mirrors for the hallway. Dennis sat on the sofa and pulled the trouser legs of his shorts up as far as possible to look at the vast new expanse of shiny black leather. The three inch high rubber soles looked astonishing. He was a very satisfied man. Soon he would be wearing his own peg legs. Short ones, enough to waddle on. It would be nice to walk on tall peg legs. He could be six feet tall. Maybe he would need crutches but they were difficult to handle with hooks. He stroked the leather and admired the solidity of his new boots. He and Ray would be the same height at home. It was great being together. Two legless amputees acting like everything was normal. For them, it was.

 

Dennis remembered he needed to get something for supper. He did not want to put his long legs on and change out of them again so he decided to go to the Co-op wearing his stump boots. They needed eggs, cheese, milk and something easy to cook like chops or a bit of fish. Dennis stuffed a string bag into his shorts and checked he had his wallet and keys. He waddled along the street, trying various strides, trying to find the natural rhythm, until the rigid stump boots felt good. He held onto the door handle and pulled himself up one step and entered the shop, The cashiers were used to seeing the young man who used hooks instead of hands but they were surprised to see him on such short legs. Dennis picked out his items and dragged the wire basket to the cashier. Having paid, he put his purchases into the string bag and realised that he would have to hang them over his shoulder otherwise the bag would drag along the ground. He made sure the handles were in his hook and swung it a couple of times until it hit his back. He said Goodbye and rocked his way out of the shop, feeling like a cartoon robber with a sack of swag.

 

Back home, he brewed some coffee and found that the kitchen stools were too high to sit on. Ray had learned to heave himself up using his hands but Dennis could no longer do anything like that. No matter. He would take his coffee into the lounge. He wanted to think through the design and manufacturing process of his peg legs. He poured a mug of coffee and put it on the coffee table. He went to Ray’s closet and picked out the peg leg. It would serve as a template. It fit both of them fairly well. He would make the knee shelf a little longer at the back to prevent the ends of his stumps from bearing weight when he sat. He sipped his coffee and imagined how to attach the vertical struts. Bolting them seemed like the best bet. He had to take the width of his upper thighs compared to his knees into account. The struts could not be parallel. Then the pegs themselves. Six inches would be enough. He wanted to use the peg legs without support and the taller they were, the less stable he would be. If there was some inch thick dowel, he could use that. It should be strong enough. He could drill a deep hole in the base of the knee shelf to hold the peg firmly. And the tips could have rubber ferrules to prevent scratching the parquet. He might use discs cut from the rubber bathroom mat he had bought the other week. He also needed some leather belts to hold the peg onto his leg. He would used three wide ones along his thighs and a narrower one to hold his bent stump. They could be screwed onto the inner struts. The knee shelf would need a pad of some kind, too. He did not relish the thought of kneeling on a flat piece of wood for any length of time.

 

Dennis leaned back on the sofa and imagined himself walking on short peg legs. He needed a pair of shorts cut off just below the knee for the best effect. Long shorts. He should sort through his old clothes for a pair which Mrs Martin could adjust. Dennis lay down on the sofa and snoozed.

 

Ray arrived home shortly before nine. Dennis had eaten a sandwich after he woke up but was hungry again. He hoped Ray would cook. His stump boots made him a little short for kitchen duty.

            – Hello! Oh golly! Look at you! Dennis, they look incredible. Stand up and let me see them. Can you walk in them alright?

            – Well, I went to the co-op wearing them after I got home, and I think I got the hang of them.

            – They look really solid. They’re so wide when you look at them from the side. All that black leather. And look at how thick the soles are! Do you like them? Are they what you wanted?

            – Of course I like them. I didn’t really know what to expect, but certainly nothing as massive as these. They are a little heavy but they have steel reinforcement inside so that’s probably why.

            – I’m going to put mine on.

Ray pegged to the bedroom and changed into his stump boots. He returned to the bedroom eighteen inches shorter and stood facing Dennis.

            – I think you’re an inch taller than me, Den. So, have you eaten yet?

            – You know I wait for you. I bought some liver. We could fry that and have it with mash. I peeled the potatoes already.

            – Alright. I’ll cook. I’m used to being this short.

            – I was wondering if you feel up to doing a couple of drawings for me after dinner. I need the dimensions for my peg legs. It would be easier for me to plan what I need to do if I could see what I’m aiming at. They don’t need to be detailed or anything.

            – Yes, let’s do that. Are you going to bring the bathroom seat home tomorrow?

            – Yep. The varnish will have dried by now. I should be able to fit it in the car.

            – Ask one of your mates to put it in after you.

            – Good idea. I’ll do that.

 

Ray turned out some tender liver which they ate with mash and a tomato. Ray cut Dennis’s food into bite-sized pieces. They left the washing up and Ray spread out his sketchbook on the lounge coffee table. Dennis described what he envisioned and Ray sketched it, adding the essential dimensions. They managed to work out precise measurements for the knee shelf which would result in correctly angled thigh struts.

            – I think this is enough, Ray. Thanks very much. I still need some rubber tips and a cushion for my knee. I don’t know what I could use for that.

            – A piece of leather with a load of old stump socks stuffed under it and nailed down.

            – Ha! That would work, I suppose. Oh, I forgot! You’re going to be home next Monday morning, aren’t you?

            – Until about ten, yes. Why?

            – The delivery men are bringing our new washing machine and you will have to let them in and sign for it.

            – Really? You bought one already? Oh, no more washing clothes in the bath! But I don’t think I’m allowed to sign anything like that yet, Dennis. I have to be twenty-one.

            – Well, just wear your peg leg over your trousers on Monday morning and they’ll be so surprised they won’t remember to ask how old you are. They don’t care, anyway. Just as long as they have a name on the paper.

            – Are you sure?

            – Well, after they’ve brought the washing machine up here, they’re not going to take it away again only to bring it back again because you’re not an adult, are they?

            – Haha! No, at least, I wouldn’t.

            – Well then. And make them take it out of the packaging and take all the cardboard and stuff away. Tell them we’re both terribly disabled and can’t deal with things like that. And make sure they bring all the tubes and connectors and everything. No point in having the thing if we can’t get water into it, is there?

            – Oh dear. Can you write me a list?

            – Haha! Just look into their eyes with your most innocent face and ask if they could hook it up for you so it works because you need to wash your stump socks. Actually, that would be quite a good idea just to make sure the thing works.

            – Alright. That makes sense. Do you still want my peg leg on show?

            – Absolutely. You’ll bring new meaning to the term pegging out the washing.

 

They snuggled together on the sofa, arms around each other’s necks and enjoyed the intimacy. Their stump boots jutted out in front of them, surreal in their sheer improbability.

 

Dennis rummaged through the pile of surplus wood in Stapleton’s workshop. He needed two large pieces of wood at least six inches wide. There was a nice piece of mahogany but he was reluctant to use such valuable wood for his peg legs. They were going to be painted black so any combination of cheaper wood would be fine. Les saw him. Les saw everything.

            – What are you looking for, young man?

            – Good morning, Les. I need two bits of wood at least six inches wide, a foot long and ten inches deep.

            – Well, I can tell you now there’s none of that in there. But we have some raw wood in the drying room and there might be an awkward bit you could use. Let’s go and have a look.

Dennis rocked himself around and followed Les out into the yard and across to a locked shed. Dennis had not been inside it before and had not even known what it was for. Les opened the lock and pulled the door open. Inside, lengths of wood more like tree trunks were lined up ready for use at some future date.

            – There are some bits on the floor. There’s one, for a start.

Les kicked a chunk of old oak.

            – That would do just fine.

Dennis had not realised how large an amount of wood he would be using.

            – There’s a fairly big piece of ash. Is that any good?

            – Do you think that’s a foot long?

            – Just about. Are those bits any good to you? I can’t think what use they are to anyone. They’ve been lying around here for years.

            – I think they’re what I need. Thanks, Les.

            – Right. Can you take one, and I’ll bring the other. Hold your arms out.

Les lifted the section of ash onto Dennis’s sockets and kicked the oak until he could get his fingers under it. Dennis walked back to the workshop very carefully, aware of the extra weight pulling him forwards. Les watched him but was unlikely to be able to grab him in time to prevent a fall. They reached the workshop without incident.

 

Dennis set about transforming the sections of tree trunks into the parts of his peg legs on which he would kneel. He squared off the ends so there was a flat surface on which to mark measurements. He paid close attention to the dimensions he had worked out the previous evening with Ray and produced two identical blocks. He drilled three holes for the bolts which would hold the struts and a one inch hole two inches long to accept the peg.. He wanted the lower half of the rectilinear block to be semispherical in the traditional shape of a peg leg but was unsure how to go about it. He asked Les for his advice.

            – You could turn it on the lathe but you’ll have to be very slow about it and do it in phases. Do you want me to do the first one and then you can try?

            – Yes please. I think I know how to do it but I’m not sure.

            – Show me the drawing so I know what you want.

Dennis pointed out the schematic diagram Ray had drawn and explained what he had in mind.

            – I see. It would have been easier if you’d not drilled the big hole but it’s not too late. We can probably do it.

Les fixed the block into a huge chuck which he fitted to the lathe. He tested that it rotated evenly and changed the bit to a thick straight-edged chisel. He started the lathe and slowly cut away successive layers of wood until the piece had a roughly semispherical end.

            – Do you want to do the other one? Have a go. Don’t go too fast otherwise something will break. Tell me when you’re ready and I’ll change the bit for you.

            – Thanks Les.

Dennis removed the knee shelf and the chuck. He fitted the second part into the chuck and slowly screwed it tightly into place. He lifted the chuck onto the lathe and checked it sat squarely. He pulled the chuck closed with all his weight and started the lathe. He understood how the wood had to be shaped in stages and reproduced an almost identical version of what Les had made. He reported to Les.

            – Right. Well, the next stage is to even out the surface. I’m afraid to say, Dennis, that it requires a firm and steady hand and I’m not sure that you’ll be able to exert enough pressure with your hooks. You won’t be able to feel anything either, will you? So let me show you the process and you can decide for yourself.

Les attached a thick steel rod to the lathe facing the roughly shaped block of wood. He selected an inch wide chisel and started the machine. Slowly the rough parts of the hemisphere fell away, leaving a smooth even surface which needed only to be polished.

            – Do you think you can hold the chisel?

            – I’m not sure but I think I probably need a stronger grip than I have right now.

            – That’s alright. I’ll do the other one too if you fetch it. You can do the sanding, I’m sure.

Les swapped out the blocks and produced a second smooth hemisphere. He left it in place and showed Dennis how to hold a piece of emery paper to polish the surface.

            – You need to watch what you’re doing and mind your fingers. Or in your case, just be careful. Give me a shout and I’ll change the block for you.

            – Thanks ever so much, Les.

            – Don’t mention it.

Dennis grabbed a sheet of coarse emery paper and folded it around his work hook. He turned the lathe on, rested his hooks on the support bar and pushed the emery paper against the rotating hemisphere. Wood dust flew into the air. Dennis changed his position slightly and did his best to maintain contact but the shape of the hook was not compatible for use with the support bar. He stopped the lathe and compared what he had sanded with the untouched area. The difference was so small that he decided a couple of coats of paint would even out the surface. He opened the chuck and removed the piece. He tried to remove the over-sized chuck from the lathe but Les had tightened it too much for him to shift. He strolled over to Les to explain the situation.

            – I think I’ll leave it, Les. I want to get the struts done this morning.

            – Fine. I’ll be over in a while to see how you’re doing.

Dennis cut the struts to size. Two short, two long. He marked and drilled bolt holes and sanded all edges smooth. The tops of the struts were rounded off so as not to chafe or catch on clothing. Back at his bench, Dennis ensured the holes in the struts corresponded to those in the knee shelf block. He needed six of the three inch bolts. He tried fitting the peg into its base and found it would stay connected even without glue but he would use some just to be sure. He checked the depth of the holes and added that amount to the length he wanted the pegs to be. He cut the dowels to nine inches. His pegs would be seven inches long plus the ferrules. Everything was ready. He started tidying his bench. Les came over to check on him.

            – Finished?

            – More or less. I need some bolts and some leather belts and it needs to be painted and I need some kind of cushion to kneel on.

            – Well, I can give you some bolts. Looks like you need six, right? Are you going to be making anything else?

            – I need to drill four holes in the tap lever. I’ll mark them out in a minute. I think the drill has the right size bit in it. But that will be it. Thanks for your help, Les.

            – That’s alright. Well, back to normal next week, eh? Eight thirty to five. Nose to the wheel and all that. I’m glad you’re back, Dennis. Right. Knock off when you like and see you Monday.

Dennis completed his tap lever and pounded the four pieces of dowel into the freshly drilled holes. He dropped it into his overalls, put the peg leg components into a string bag and called out a farewell.

 

Dennis drove to West Ealing and parked near Marks and Sparks. He attracted considerable attention in his shirtless dungarees. He selected a black leather belt wide enough be comfortable and a narrower one which matched. A saleslady asked if she could be of assistance.

            – Yes, I would like half a dozen of these belts and two of these.

            – Are there not that number on display, sir?

            – No, I couldn’t see them.

            – If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll check with the stockroom.

            – No, I’ll wait, thank you.

She sought out her supervisor an asked permission to absent herself from the shop floor. She went upstairs to the stockroom and asked the manager there about the belts’ availability. He checked a ledger and announced that a packet of half a dozen was indeed available and several loose items of the narrower size also. He called a runner, a young school leaver, and gave him the order numbers. He shortly returned with the goods and Dennis was soon in possession of all he needed to start learning to walk on short peg legs.

 

He also needed some screws and washers to fix the belts to his peg legs. The only do-it-yourself shop he knew of was in Southall Roadway so he drove along the Uxbridge Road, past Peter and Robert’s home in Hanwell, past the railway viaduct and under the Iron Bridge, past Dormer’s Wells to Southall. The shop assistant recognised him immediately. He drank in the sight of the good-looking bloke with the hooks and greeted him like a long-lost friend. He was fairly handsome himself. Well-built, nice crewcut, cleft chin, sexy blue eyes. His nine inch cock sprang to its full size and he was unable to prevent his trousers from tenting. Dennis was in the mood for games too.

            – Are you always ready for action? I think the same thing happened to you last time I was in.

            – I’m sorry. I can’t help it. Your hooks make me aroused.

            – You like amputees?

            – I’m sorry, sir. Yes, I do. I would love to have an amputee boyfriend. I love the look.

            – Give me your phone number.

            – I don’t have a phone at home but you could call me here, sir.

            – If you want to pay me a visit, come to my address in West Ealing at eleven thirty this Sunday. Don’t over-dress.

Dennis bought two dozen large brass screws and washers and a Phillips screwdriver. Ray could do some handiwork over the weekend.

 

Dennis thought about his peg legs and realised that he still needed rubber ferrules for the pegs. Having come this far, he decided to continue to Uxbridge Vine Street to the orthopaedic supplies shop. He might buy some thick stump socks for his boots, as Dr Young had suggested. It was turning into an expensive outing. No matter. He would be earning again from next week on top of his disability allowance.

 

            – Hello. I need two one-inch ferrules, please, the sort for walking sticks.

            – Certainly sir. Er, if I may ask, are they for yourself?

The salesman doubted Dennis’s ability to use walking sticks.

            – Well, actually, to tell you the truth, they are for a pair of peg legs which I have made.

            – Oh, in that case you need something entirely different. We have two models for peg legs. The base has to be a different shape, you see, and the ferrule itself has to be far more robust.

He turned to the bank of drawers behind him and took two ferrules from a low drawer.

            – Here are the peg ferrules. This one is the standard model which most patients use. Then there is the rather larger version. It also has a one inch fitting but as you can see, it is rather taller and wider than the standard.

Dennis thought it was huge. The base was two and a half inches wide, flat, and the ferrule itself was about four inches tall. They would look phenomenal.

            – I’ll take two of these larger ones, please.

            – Very good, sir. That will be two pounds seventeen, please.

They were expensive. Dennis understood that not many were manufactured. Disability was expensive.

 

He tried to think of anything else he might need on the way back. He already owned a hammer. And a couple of screwdrivers. They were no longer of any use to him. He needed a cushion for his knees. What could he use? Old textiles stuffed into a sock? That would work until he thought of something better.

 

Back home, he planned the scenario with the do-it-yourself man. His name was Philip Lewis. Dennis was in two minds about how he would welcome his guest. He could wear his long legs and trousers, as he had done on the occasions when Philip had seen him, or he could wear his stump boots. Suddenly he remembered that he was supposed to be taking his shirts and trousers to the Martins for alteration. It would be too impolite to decline their offer of a Sunday lunch. Maybe Saturday afternoon or evening would be better. He phoned the work number Philip had given him.

            – Hello. I would like to speak to Philip Lewis, please.

            – Speaking.

            – Oh, hi. This is Dennis Wilson, the bloke with the hooks, remember? I can’t be free on Sunday like I planned, so it’s tomorrow afternoon or evening. And it has to be at your place. Is that alright?

            – Yes, that’s even better. Let me give you my address.

            – Wait a minute while I get a pen and paper. Right, go ahead.

            – Three Godfrey Street, Chelsea.

            – And do you live alone?

            – I do unless you want to move in.

            – Don’t get ahead of yourself, Philip. How old are you, by the way?

            – Twenty-four. How about you?

            – I’m a month shy of twenty-two. Alright, Philip. I will see you tomorrow at about three. I may not be able to stay long. Be ready for me. I need help undressing.

            – I understand, sir. I will have everything ready. Good bye, sir.

            – Good bye, Philip.

 

Another bloke who wanted to call him sir. It was a clear enough signal.

 

Ray arrived at his usual time and changed into his stump boots. Dennis had been wearing his for about five hours. The television set was on in preparation for the Eurovision Song Contest due to start on the hour.

            – Have you had anything to eat?

            – I had some sandwiches but I’m not hungry.

            – I’ll just make a few sandwiches, then. Are you going to watch that to the end?

            – Yes, of course. I’m not watching it for the songs, am I?

            – Haha! Go and have a wash and shave. Don’t forget Stapleton wants to see you tomorrow.

            – And you too.

            – I’ll wash in the morning. He already knows what I’m like.

 

They watched the song contest and argued amongst themselves which was the best song. Neither of their favourites won. Victory went to the French song and they stumped to their bed still arguing. They cuddled together, giggling.

 

Saturday was the big day. They were summoned to Dennis’s workplace to meet his boss at ten o’clock. It usually took Dennis forty minutes in his carriage but they left at a quarter past nine to be sure. The gate was open and they drove into the yard and parked next to each other in front of the office building. Stapleton had been there since half past and heard the youngsters arrive. He went downstairs and let them in.   

 

            – I’m very pleased you could come in. I know it’s an imposition but we have no other opportunity to meet together.

            – We don’t mind, sir. We don’t have a timetable for weekends.

            – Good show. Well, what I want to talk about is this. Raymond, you have been sketching some drawings for Dennis, haven't you?

            – Yes. He tells me what to draw and I do it.

            – I have seen your sketchbook. I hope you have it back, by the way?

            – Yes, Dennis brought it home in the week.

            – Good. Raymond, this is a little difficult to say. I know you work on the railways and enjoy your work, especially after your accident. But your artwork is so exceptional and you have such extraordinary talent that I feel you could quite easily get into an art college and continue from there. If you want to, of course. I don’t want to force you in any way.

            – Do you really think I’m that good?

            – Dear boy, I have never seen anyone who can produce such realistic and such beautiful drawings. You are far more than good. You are exceptional. Now, I want to produce a new catalogue and I would like you to illustrate it for our company. There would be about forty illustrations. We have a deadline of about six months. Do you think you could draw so many in that time?

            – Yes, I expect so.

            – Good. I’ll show you our current catalogue and the items themselves. You can draw them in your own style. You don’t have to copy what we have at the moment.

            – I’m sure I could do that, sir.

            – Yes, so am I. Now Raymond, you have already left school because you wanted to work on the railways. Is that right?

            – Yes. I like the work. It’s interesting.

            – Well, I have been making a few phone calls and asking a few questions on your behalf. I hope you won’t be angry with me. It’s this. On my recommendation, the dean at St Martin’s College of Art is willing to accept you for a two year course in design and draughtsmanship when you are eighteen. They would take you now, but you are still too young and they have their rules.

            – You mean I could go to art school?

            – Yes, that is exactly what I mean. I will sponsor you for the two years with eighty pounds per month on top of any other sponsorship on this one condition – that you agree to produce all the illustrations for Stapleton’s publicity for the next five years. Until nineteen sixty-seven.

            – I’m not sure I understand, sir. I would have to leave my job at Southall and go to art college for two years and do the drawings for your catalogues. What would I do after that?

            – That would be up to you, Raymond. You would be old enough by then to make your own decisions but I should imagine that you would easily find a well-paying job in an advertising agency, for example. I have one in mind, but I won't go into that just yet.

            – Do you really think I could get into college?

            – Raymond, the work you did with Dennis – you remember, the tap handles and the seat sections? – were so professionally executed that I have no doubt in my mind that art college is the natural place for you. I shouldn’t say this, but I have a couple of strings I could pull to help bring it about.

            – Can I think about it?

            – Yes, of course you can and should. The college won’t accept you until you are eighteen so you can enjoy working on the railways for a couple of years yet.

            – Thank you, sir. I will think about it.

            – Good show. Now, Dennis. It has been a pleasure to have you back this week. I’m very impressed by how you have used wood to produce things which would be usually produced in other materials. It shows you have a sense of experimentation and an understanding of the material. It’s why you’re here, of course, as an apprentice. Your course will end in a couple of months, as you know, and it will be up to Stapleton’s Decor to give you a passing grade or not. We have had to take into account your three month absence and the subsequent consequences. Not to put too fine a point on it, your ability to continue in a professional capacity has been analysed this past week. Your foreman and I are both of the opinion that we can not allow you to continue to follow a career with us in the workshop. I’m sorry if that sounds cruel, Dennis.

            – I thought I was doing quite well.

            – You were. You excelled yourself. But there are aspects such as with the lathe and using the drill which are essential to the work which you were unable to do independently. I have complete understanding and sympathy with the reasons why. I’m sure you understand.

            – Yes, I suppose so. I would always need help with those things.

            – Exactly. So I want to offer you the position of designer in chief of a new department which I am working on and starting in August. The work you have done this week, using only cast-offs, suggests to me that you have a fresh way of thinking which we will be very advantageous to us. We’ll talk more about this over the coming weeks. I want you to finish your apprenticeship and you may ask for assistance where needed but afterwards, I want you off the shop floor and into creative planning. Does that sound acceptable to you?

            – Well, yes it does. Thank you very much, Mr Stapleton. I’ll do my best.

            – I know you will. I want to create an extended version of Stapleton’s, a new department which produces furniture to be delivered as individual components and assembled with simple tools by anyone. You have an eye for design, fresh for the nineteen sixties, and I want your insight as a disabled man on how to design new adaptable furniture for everyone. I believe that if you design the furniture and products as if for yourself, you will produce the style I want to invest in. Am I making myself clear?

            – Yes sir. I think so. I’m sorry I won’t be working in the workshop any longer.

            – No need to be. You are far more valuable elsewhere and you would be welcome to use the workshop for your own needs whenever you want. Now, I’d like you both to think about what I’ve told you over the coming weeks and let me know at the end of the month what you’ve decided. Raymond, you still have quite a while before you can start college but it’s best to get the ball rolling now. Right, do you have any questions?

            – Not at the moment, sir. This has been quite a surprise.

            – A pleasant one, I hope. Not what you expected, I dare say. Alright. Shall we have an early lunch? I know a nice place for lunch in Willesden. My treat, of course.

 

There was a quick discussion about whether to go together in Stapleton’s Bentley or to drive separately. They drove individually, stating that they had further business in the general area and it would be more convenient to have their invalid carriages nearby. Stapleton drove slowly, closely followed by two small blue Invacars. He turned off the main thoroughfare and approached a row of suburban shops with a Tudor-style public house on the corner. He drove to the rear of the building and stopped in a small car park. Dennis and Ray soon appeared and parked alongside. Stapleton noticed the message on the rear of Dennis’s vehicle and grimaced. He glanced at the almost identical version on Ray’s car and burst into laughter.

            – That’s really quite funny. I’m happy to see you haven’t lost your sense of humour. Let’s go in and have some lunch. I’m peckish. After you.

He watched as Ray negotiated the steps, balancing carefully, with Dennis flailing his hooks as he followed. They waited just inside the door, their eyes adjusting to the dim interior. Stapleton strode in and looked around for an accessible table.

            – Shall we sit over there?

            – Yes, fine.

They sat at a round table neatly laid with cutlery, napkins and a cruet. A small leather folder contained the day’s menu.

            – I’m going to have braised beef. Choose whatever you want, lads. Don’t look at the prices.

They both chose battered cod and chips with mushy peas. Dennis hoped his unusual table manners would not offend his boss. Stapleton brought up the subject of career choices again. He was particularly anxious to persuade Ray that he would have a more promising future after studying at art college. By the time he turned twenty-one, Ray could have a creative job in advertising or with a major publisher or magazine. Ray listened carefully, nodding, understanding, considering. Stapleton asked him about his present signalman’s job and what its prospects were. As Ray explained, he realised himself that the job would be the same for the foreseeable future. The same thing every day for years and years. It might be nice to earn a living by drawing and designing things.

 

A waiter took their orders and asked what they would like to drink. The young men chose water and Stapleton asked for half a pint of pale ale. Stapleton turned his attention to Dennis.

            – We’re half way through April now and if all goes according to plan, you should have your certificate by the end of June. That would give you a month of free time before you start in the new department, which I am assuming you want to. So you’ll have the entire month of July off work, Dennis. If you have any more little projects you’d like to work on, you’re welcome to come in to work during that period.

            – Thank you, sir. We do need some more adapted furniture for our flat. Another similar seat to the one I made for the bedroom and a couple of easy chairs for the lounge which we can get in and out of easily.

            – Now, that’s a good example of what I have in mind, Dennis. If they’re easier for you to use, they’ll be easier for other people like the elderly or other invalids with mobility problems. There’s definitely a market opening there, I am quite convinced of that. And if the end result is also turned out in your contemporary style, there’s no reason it wouldn’t be popular with everyone.

The waiter returned with their meals and wished them Bon appetit.

            – Shall I cut the fish, Den?

            – Yes please.

Ray sliced the cod into smaller chunks. Dennis used his steel fingers to eat his meal except for the mashed peas. He managed to angle his fork in the left hook so it could both scoop the food and reach his mouth if he leant forward.

 

            – I hope you enjoyed that.

            – Yes, thank you. It was very good.

            – I used to live nearby and this was my local. Then the publican sold the place and the new management put in the kitchen.

He wrote a cheque after the waiter served him the bill.

            – Well, I must be getting back. Enjoy the rest of the weekend and I’ll see you on Monday, Dennis. It was good meeting you again, Raymond. Think about what we spoke about. Cheerio.

He left and Ray looked at Dennis.

            – Our lives have been turned upside down in a couple of hours. I’m so confused.

            – Our lives have been turned upside down before, Ray. Have to grab the opportunity when it presents itself. But we’ll discuss it all later. I am going to see Dan now. Dan the Potter. He asked me to say that he’d like to see you but he especially wanted to see your stump boots.

            – Well, I’m wearing my wooden legs so that’s too bad. And I don’t really want to meet any more people today, Dennis. I think I’ll go back home. But say hello to Dan from me.

            – Alright, I will. I don’t know how long I’ll be. I’ll see you when I see you.

They pushed themselves up from the table, thanked the waiter and returned to their cars. They went in opposite directions when they reached the main road.

 

The streets were busy with Saturday shoppers. It took Dennis almost an hour to reach Earl’s Court. It was three o’clock. Dan might be in his studio. His partner would probably be in Notting Hill market selling his ceramics. Dennis drove into the courtyard and parked outside the studio. Dan was inside and heard the motor. He opened the door and welcomed Dennis as he climbed out of his car.

            – Ray sends his best wishes and apologises. We’ve just had some very surprising news and I think he’s feeling a bit overwhelmed.

            – Nothing bad, I hope.

            – No, not at all.

            – Well, come in and you can tell me all about it, unless it’s confidential, of course. I have a few pieces you might be interested in. Sit down and I’ll try and find them. I’ve had a busy week and the kiln will be full tomorrow. Which is a good thing. Just a moment.

Dan stumped across to the drying shelf and carefully picked up a couple of mugs with his fingerless hands. He brought them over and returned for another pair.

            – Now, these are just prototypes, Dennis. Have a good look at them and try them out. They may be a little fragile because they haven’t been fired but they should hold up if you’re careful. Oh, and they’ll shrink slightly after firing.

Dennis pulled one of the mugs towards himself and turned it with the end of a hook. It was cylindrical with a slight flare round the lip. A vertical tube extended from halfway up  to just below the flare, its edges rounded. It could be used as a handle by someone with a normal hand. Dennis twisted his right hook’s fingers to point up and inserted them into the tube. He lifted his arm and the mug rose without slipping. He brought it closer to his face and leaned forward slightly as if to drink. He raised his elbow and the mug tilted. His steel fingers held the mug firmly. It was a completely successful design. Technically perfect and aesthetically pleasing. He put it down and looked at the next suggestion. It was identical except that the tube was only half as long. His steel fingers poked out of the top. The mug shifted as he picked it up and tilted a little more than expected as its weight distribution shifted. But it was held firmly on his hook. The third suggestion was a different idea. The shape of the mug itself was identical to the others but a curved flange wrapped around the mug near the lip. It seemed to grow out of the surface of the mug at the rear and protruded a couple of inches near the front. Dennis adjusted the angle of his hook and picked the mug up. The fingers held it firmly and it was easy to tilt. The fourth mug was a copy of the previous design but Dan had used the imprint of the hook which Dennis made to create indentations on the upper and lower surfaces of the handle. Once gripped, the mug could not possibly slip.

 

Dan watched Dennis experimenting with his handiwork. Apart from a few glances, there was no communication. Dennis put the fourth mug onto the table and released his hook.

            – I am speechless. These are remarkable. Two of them are extraordinary and one of them is excellent. And one I didn’t like.

            – Haha! And I know which ones. I was watching your expression.

He leaned across the table and picked up the first mug Dennis had tested, the one with the tall vertical tube cum handle.

            – You like this one, don’t you?

            – Yes. It’s perfect. That’s the only word for it. How long did it take you to work out the diameter of the tube?

            – I had three tries. I made a rough copy of your hook, if you remember, so I could test how it fitted. It is a standard design, isn’t it? All hooks of that type are the same, aren’t they?

            – Yes, and I would guess that all hook users have this type in their collection.

            – That’s what I thought. Would you like me to make your mugs with that kind of tube?

            – I would be very grateful for it, Dan. Yes please.

            – Can you pick it up again for me? I want to check if I could make the tube any shorter.

He waddled around and looked at the contact Dennis’s hook made inside the tube.

            – I could shave a quarter inch off without affecting it mechanically. Would that be alright?

            – Yes, of course.

            – Jolly good. There is one disadvantage to that design, though. I could put a short tube on a shorter mug but you saw how it wobbled.

            – Don’t make anything smaller, Dan. I think this size is perfect for coffee or tea.

            – Good. I was hoping you’d say that. Now, be honest, tell me how many you’d like? Two? Four? A dozen?

            – Ha! Four would be marvellous.

            – What colour would you like? Remember, you can choose black or white.

            – Can I have two different sorts?

            – Yes. What did you have in mind?

            – Well, two white ones with black tubes, and two vice versa. Black mugs with white tubes.

            – Good idea. Yes, I can do that. Now about the timetable. I should be able to make them next week and if there’s room, they can go in next week’s firing. So they would be ready the following week on Tuesday at the earliest. I let them cool down slowly on Mondays so they don’t crack, you see. But I’ll telephone when they’re ready and you can come and collect them when it suits you. Well now, would you like a cup of coffee?

            – I’d love to sit and chat, Dan, but I have another appointment this afternoon and I’m not sure I dare be much later.

            – Oh, I don’t want to detain you. Thank you for dropping by. I’m so glad we found something you can use.

            – Much more than that, Dan. Something I will display with pride and show everyone. Super work. I can’t thank you enough.

 

Dennis sat in his car and looked at the best route from Earl’s Court to Chelsea on Ray’s A to Z. It suddenly occurred to him that Ray might have needed his map to get back from Willesden but it was too late now. He pushed the joystick forward with a hook and steered the little car around the courtyard out onto the High Street.

 

Godfrey Street was a narrow cul-de-sac lined by two storey houses painted in faded pastel colours. Dennis parked outside number three and noticed how well the colour of his Invacar matched that of the house. He placed his hook behind the lion’s head door knocker and let it fall. The door opened and the handsome face of Phillip Lewis peered out.

            – Oh, it’s you! I was afraid you weren’t going to come. Please come in. Give me your hand.

Dennis offered his right hook and Phillip held him steady as he lifted his legs over the door step.

            – Welcome to my humble home. Can I offer you a drink? Coffee? Whiskey? What would you like? Come and sit down.

The living room was immediately adjacent. Dennis thought it odd to have the front door lead straight into the lounge but it seemed to work.

            – I would like some coffee, please. I need it in a mug or a glass with straight sides so I can hold it with a hook.

            – Yes, of course. I can manage that. Just a moment.

Phillip went through a short passageway at the end of the lounge and Dennis heard the clink of crockery and of a running tap. Phillip reappeared.

            – How are you? I have been looking forward to seeing you all week. I thought we would be together tomorrow but this is even better.

            – I am doing pretty well, thank you. I had some odd news a couple of hours ago. My employer will not allow me to continue in the job I have been training for.

            – Oh. That’s awful. Is it because of your injuries?

            – Yes. Instead he wants me to be a furniture designer for his new company. He says I have insight into making products for the modern age.

            – Well, that sounds perfectly marvellous. What do you think? Are you going to take the position?

            – I would be a fool not to, wouldn’t I? Who else would employ a man with no hands and no feet?

            – Is that what your problem is? I noticed you limping last week in the shop. I didn’t realise you are a quadruple amputee.

            – That’s me. Sums me up perfectly. Anyway, you can imagine I would have trouble finding a job. My employer just happens to know me from before my illness.

            – Is that how you lost your limbs? Illness?

            – Yes. I had septicaemia following meningitis. My hands and feet died. They cut them off to save my life. And now I use artificial limbs.

            – I think you look fantastic wearing hooks. I hope you will show me your artificial legs.

            – You like the idea of artificial limbs, don’t you? Both times I’ve been in your shop you’ve had a massive erection when you serve me. I quite like it. You must have a big dick.

            – I do, a bit. I can’t help it. The idea of artificial limbs just makes me go weak at the knees.

            – Ha! Not as weak as mine, I dare say. So have you had any other amputee lovers?

            – No. You’re the first amputee to ever visit my home. I had a boyfriend with dentures once but that hardly counts, does it?

            – Not really.

            – He liked to smoke huge cigars. You know how you clench a cigar in your teeth? He just had to let his big cigar hang from his toothless mouth. I loved to see him smoke.

            – How is that coffee?

            – I’ll see.

He rose and Dennis could see Phillip already had an impressive erection. He would not get to use it, that was for sure. Phillip seemed like a thoughtful host. Dennis decided to take command when he came back with the coffee.

            – Here you are. I hope it’s alright. Do you want sugar?

            – No, black is fine. I see you are still tenting. Take your trousers and underwear off. I want to see your cock.

Phillip looked at Dennis in surprise. He had only been spoken to like that once before and asked his guest to leave immediately. He looked at the quadruple amputee and felt his penis twitch and harden. He undid his belt and removed his trousers and underwear in one motion. His dick sprang up. Its heavy weight would not allow it to rise much more than ninety degrees while he stood. He looked at Dennis for further instructions.

            – Christ almighty! That’s even bigger than mine. Come here and undress me. Take my arms off first.

Phillip stretched his neck back until his head faced the ceiling. He strained more blood into his penis. He approached Dennis and undid the shirt buttons. He tugged gently. The shirt rose over Dennis’s head and Phillip laid it over a chair. Dennis opened a hook and took hold of the huge engorged penis.

            – You won’t be needing this. But I have to admit, it is a handsome cock. Take my harness off. Pull it up over my head. Use the ring in the middle. Now drop it over my chest. Undo the buckles on my biceps. Good. Now pull the arms off carefully and put them on the floor.

Phillip obeyed. He eyed Dennis’s short arm stumps. Everything he ever did for the rest of his life would be down to those two short little stumps. His penis twitched again. He was edging very close to orgasm and they had not even reached the bedroom yet.

            – Very good. Now the coffee should be cool enough to drink. Test it. Is it?

            – Yes, I think so, sir.

            – You will have to help me drink it. You can see I only have stumps.

Phillip lifted Dennis’s mug to his lips. This felt completely unreal. He had become subservient to this invalid.

            – More, sir?

            – No, that’s enough. Take my legs off.

            – Yes sir.

Phillip loosened Dennis’s belt and undid his flies.

            – Can you raise yourself on your elbows please, sir?

Dennis obliged.

            – Loosen the lacing and pull my legs off. Stand them in the corner and pull the trousers up over the sockets.

Phillip pulled the artificial legs down past the remnants of Dennis’s legs and took them to the corner of the room where he leant them against the wall. He pulled the waistband up until a pair of unembodied legs stood waiting.

            – You can give me the rest of the coffee. Drink your own. I am ready now.

            – Will we go to bed, sir?

            – Yes. You will carry me to your bed. Drink your coffee.

Phillip gulped his expensive roast without tasting it. He trembled in anticipation of the cripple’s next commandments. He was more sexually excited than he had ever been. The cripple’s penis was almost erect and showed signs of becoming as large as his own. He had been nicknamed Miss Fairymeat in certain circles. He could not believe that anyone would dare refer to the limbless man by any derogatory name. Phillip was not effeminate, merely submissive when required. He tried not to allow any typically homosexual gestures or speech patterns to give himself away. But this remnant of a man had effortlessly led him to reveal his great weakness for amputees. He would be the amputee’s slave for as long as it took.

            – Do you have a bedroom?

            – Yes sir.

            – Take me there. Lay me on the bed. Strip naked and lie next to me, belly down. Do you understand?

            – Yes sir.

            – Do you understand what I am going to do to you?

            – Yes sir.

            – Good. Let’s go. Pick me up carefully.

 

Phillip approached from the side of the armchair Dennis was sitting in. He placed his arms under Dennis’s knees and under his armpits. He rose to his full six foot three height and walked carefully to the short corridor. He kicked open the door leading to the stairs and trudged up them to the upper room, his bedroom. He walked around the right hand side of the bed and placed Dennis on his back.

            – Are you comfortable, sir? Would you prefer to be on the other side of the bed?

            – No. This is good.

Phillip took off his yellow shirt and arranged himself and his huge erection on to the bed next to Dennis. He felt an arm stump trace a pattern on his back. He felt Dennis swipe his leg stumps along his upper thighs. Short round stumps instead of shins. Phillip groaned.

            – I am going to penetrate your arsehole. If you feel me slipping, you will hold me in position. Do you understand me?

            – Yes sir.

Dennis pushed himself with his stumps as close to Phillip as he could and lifted his left leg onto Phillips back. He pushed with an elbow.

            – Help me!

Dennis was too far from Phillip’s anus. He pushed himself down digging his elbows into Phillip’s back. He groaned in pain and ecstasy. The amputee was on him.

Dennis gyrated his pelvis until he felt Phillip’s arsehole with his penis.

            – Spread it. Use your hands!

Phillips obeyed and drew breath as Dennis began his entry. He worked at it slowly, withdrawing, entering further and again. Phillip grunted with each new insertion. He was being fucked by a limbless man. A good looking one at that. Dennis pulled his penis out a good five inches and shoved it back inside him with force and power. He could feel the tip hit his prostate. His own penis throbbed with need. Dennis placed his arm stumps onto Phillip’s back and wrapped his leg stumps around Phillips’s thighs. He increased his rate and thrust his eight inch penis all the way into Philip’s colon. He was getting closer. He could feel contractions in his anus and the growing anticipation in his thighs. He withdrew his penis one last time and thrust it back with a shout of release and pumped cum until he spread his arm stumps and fell against Phillip’s back. Phillip had become over-excited and his nervous system refused him release. He pressed his groin deeper into his bed and squirmed until it was clear that he was only making the head of his dick sore and he was not going to orgasm. Dennis rolled off him, dribbling cum. He landed on his back and breathed deeply.

            – I want you to wash me. Then take me back and fit my artificial limbs.

            – Yes sir. I will fetch a towel, sir.

Phillip wiped Dennis’s turgid penis and pulled his foreskin forward. He wiped his own arse with the towel and threw it into the shower stall. He put on a short dressing gown and returned to carry Dennis to the lounge.

            – Arms first.

Phillip picked up the prostheses and looked at them with some trepidation. He should have paid more attention to how they were attached before he removed them. Dennis watched his confusion. Phillip placed the sockets side by side on the sofa and arranged the strapping. He believed he had the things the right way round. He picked up both sockets and turned to Dennis who lifted his stumps. Phillip fed each biceps cuff and socket onto the stumps and straightened the harness.

            – Will you duck your head please, sir?

The harness fell across Dennis’s shoulders and Phillip made sure they lay flat. Dennis shrugged a couple of times and opened each hook in turn.

            – Now the legs.

Phillip fetched them and placed them in front of Dennis. He kneeled and pulled the trousers down to the aluminium ankles.

            – Will you lift your left leg please, sir, so I can attach the socket?

Dennis tilted his body. Phillip ensured the short below knee stump was in position inside the calf.

            – And the other side, sir.

Not having been reprimanded, Phillip believed he was fitting Dennis correctly. He adjusted the lacing and pulled it tight, closing it with a bow.

            – Is this correct, sir? Are they comfortable?

            – It is correct and they are as comfortable as they will ever be. If I could have my shirt?

Dennis lifted his hooks and Phillip pulled the still-buttoned shirt over Dennis’s head. He asked Dennis to stand and offered assistance. He tucked the shirttails in.

            – Thank you, Phillip. Game over. I hope we can see each other again after this evening.

            – I hope so too, sir. You are welcome any time. Perhaps next time you would like to have some dinner.

            – I would enjoy that. Time to make tracks. It’s been a long day.

Phillip escorted him out to his Invacar and waited until Dennis started the ignition and moved off. That had not gone as expected. But what had he been expecting? He had wanted to handle the artificial limbs and to feel the stumps. He had done that. He started to get another erection. Phillip closed the front door and went to the bathroom for a hand job.

 

Ray was watching television when Dennis arrived home. He had seen an episode of Railway Roundabout which concentrated on new methods of signalling which were sure to improve speeds and services in the near future and bring an end to the traditional role of signalmen up and down the country. What an amazing coincidence that he had been given an alternative future that very morning.

            – Did you see Dan? What did he have for you?

            – Yes, he was in his studio. He’d made four mugs for me to try out and one of them was exactly what I need. So he’s going to make four of them next week.

            – Great! Before I forget, remember to sort out some shirts and trousers for my mum to alter. We’re going for lunch tomorrow.

            – Oh yes. Thanks for reminding me. I’ll do it right now. Do you think I should give her some measurements too?

            – I expect so. I’ll get the tape measure.

Dennis found five shirts and two pairs of trousers to be shortened. He pointed out on his prostheses whereabouts the new hems should be and Ray held the clothes against him to get the new length from the waistbands and shoulders. He jotted the figures down for his mother.

            – What do you want for supper?

            – Just sandwiches will do. Cheese and tomato.

            – Good show. No washing up with sandwiches. I’ll bring them in here. Do you want a cuppa?

            – Yeah, why not?

 

Ray and Dennis arrived at Hayes End in time for elevenses. Both his parents were pleased to see them and Mrs Martin was doing her best to keep calm after seeing the dreadful steel hooks poking out of Dennis’s smart jacket. Anything to do with Ray’s disability was taboo while she was present, although Ray could talk about his wooden legs and his stumps with his amputee father. This weekend they had better news.

            – So you think you’ll be going to St Martin’s, then? I must say, they got the name right. And it’s to study art and industrial design, is it? Well Ray, I think you’re making the right choice. It looks like they’ll be making a lot of signalmen redundant before long. Did you see Railway Roundabout on television yesterday? They were talking about how automatic signals are being phased in.

            – Yes, I watched it. It would be such a shame for all the signalmen but I suppose they’ll be given other jobs, like guards or stationmasters or something. But I wouldn’t want to be a guard on my feet all day on a moving train because of these.

He slapped his thighs.

            – And Dennis got some interesting news yesterday too, didn’t you? His boss isn’t going to let him carry on in the workshop.

            – Oh Dennis! That’s terrible. I am sorry to hear that.

            – Yes, so was I until Mr Stapleton – he’s the owner – said he wanted me to design modern furniture which you would buy as a kind of kit and have to assemble yourself.

            – Really? That sounds very odd. And what do you think about it?

            – Well, he likes the ideas I had about making my own life a bit easier and how it looks. I think he likes the new simple style of furniture but he’s worried that the present customers are going to keep him stuck with traditional designs. So he’s launching a whole new department and I’m going to be the head designer. I think.

            – So you do the designs and Ray draws them. I have to admit, it does sound like you are forging ahead. Well, good luck to both of you.

            – Dennis dear, did you bring some sewing for me?

            – Yes, Mrs Martin. I left it in the car. I feel terrible for being such an imposition. It’s very good of you to do it for me.

            – Think nothing of it. I was going to have the machine out next week anyway to shorten some curtains for upstairs so I might as well do your things while I’m at it. Bring them in and I can have a look at what you want.

Dennis retrieved a small bundle wrapped in brown paper from his car.

            – I’ve got the measurements here, mum.

            – Oh, thank you dear. You do think of everything.

            – Here they are, Mrs Martin. There are five shirts where I’d like you to shorten the sleeves and two pairs of trousers which I’d like made into shorts. You can see that even though they are shorts, the legs are still quite long, down to my knees.

            – Are you going to be walking around with your legs on show, Dennis?

            – Well no, actually I have a new pair of leather boots and those shorts will be just long enough to cover them.

            – Oh, I see.

            – Well Dennis, if you would like to join us again next Sunday, I’m sure these will be ready for you to collect. These are rather nice shirts, aren’t they? Never mind. They’ll be just as nice with short sleeves. How are you doing for your thigh sleeves? Would you like me to knit you some more? I just finished a cardigan for your father and I have quite a bit of wool left over.

            – Yes please, mum. Those red and green ones looked funny when Dennis put them on. He said he looked like a traffic light.

            – Oh Dennis! Did you have the pair on the same leg? That must have looked funny. Well, I’m going to see how things are getting on in the kitchen. I’m sure you have some more news for your father.

It was June Martin’s euphemism for talking about amputations. She left the room.

            – Did I understand you’ve got yourself a pair of stubbies, Dennis?

            – Yes, I got them a couple of weeks ago. I change into them quite often when I get home.

            – So you don’t wear them in public? They are rather shocking, as you must realise.

            – Well, I did go out to the Co-op wearing them. I don’t know if I got any more looks than usual. I just have to use what I have available to me, Mr Martin. I can’t be changing my prostheses because some housewives are going to be shocked by my short little legs. If they aren’t shocked by that, they’re going to be shocked by my hooks. But it’s very rare that anyone passes comment. I suppose most people are just considerate. It’s none of their business and they leave me alone although they might sneak a peek. I don’t mind. I used to look at amputees myself.

            – Yes, I understand. I work with quite a few amputees myself. After the war, Aladdin made it policy to employ as many disabled servicemen as possible so there are quite a few of us missing a limb or two. I’m quite used to seeing men wearing hooks. Most of them use them like the rest of us use our hands. They do what they need to do with their prosthetic arms just like anyone else. You’re still a bit new to those hooks of yours, aren’t you? But have you noticed that you don’t have to think about them so much?

            – Well yes, now that you come to mention it, I suppose I don’t. Last week was different because I was at work practising and I was using machines I hadn’t used before so I had to think about my hooks. But I don’t need to if I’m at home or out shopping.

            – Just goes to show. You can get used to anything given a bit of time.

June Martin rapped on the wall to signal dinner was ready and the men moved to the dining table. They were served roast chicken with fresh runner beans and enjoyed every mouthful.

            –It seems to me that you two young men have had a change in your luck. Ray, you’ll have to wait a year or so until you can start college and Dennis, you’re going to be in a much better position than if you hadn’t been ill. I must say, I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.

            – Thanks dad.

 

An hour later, Ray kissed his mum goodbye and left his dad asleep on the sofa. They drove back to West Ealing, Ray following Dennis in their invalid carriages. Once home, they fell asleep in the lounge, leaning against each other, Ray’s hand on his friend’s right arm socket.

 

 

 

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