RAILWAYMEN'S FEET Part 2/4

 

R A I L W A Y M E N ’ S   F E E T

An improbable tale by strzeka

Dedicated to my friend John P. of Melbourne

 

A suburban tale of disability

The second part of four

 

Prologue

School-leaver Raymond Martin started an apprenticeship as a signalman and immediately lost his legs under a railway engine. His colleague Robert Turner, also an amputee, took Raymond into his home. In the course of moving Raymond’s furniture, hook user Peter Wilmark and Robert initiated a sexual relationship. Soon after, Ray met apprentice carpenter Dennis Wilson, a devotee.

 

October 1961

 

Saturday morning. Robert and Ray were having a late breakfast.

            – Ray, I won’t be able to come to lunch with your parents tomorrow. I need to go somewhere but I don’t want your mum to go to the trouble of making a meal for me. Do you think you could leave a couple of hours earlier than usual and warn her so she knows?

            – Yes, I suppose so. Where are you going?

            – I have to see Peter about something. So I’m going to Hanwell.

            – Oh, alright. Say hello to him from me.

 

They heard the letter box slam and one knock. The postman had brought something for them.

            – I’ll get it.

Robert walked down the hallway and picked up a brown paper envelope addressed to Ray.

            – It’s for you. I can guess what it is.

Ray opened it and read.

            – I can go back to work on Monday. Midday to nine. Same shift all week. Hooray!  I’ll be earning some money at last.

            – You’d better take your stump boots with you and change into them in the kitchen. If you leave your legs in the corner out of the way, they’ll be alright. No-one will touch them. You can leave the boots there all week and bring them home on Friday if you want to wear them here at the weekend.

            – Good idea. That’s what I’ll do.

            – I hope you haven’t forgotten everything you learned.

            – I don’t think so. I keep thinking about my first day and what I was shown.

            – Good show. I can tell you one thing for certain.

            – What’s that?

            – They won’t let you go out laying blasters again. You’d come back with no head.

            – Haha!  What are we going to do today?  Apart from some shopping.

            – Well, why don’t you go and see Dennis if you have some time on your hands?  He gave you his address, didn’t he?  You only need to jump on a bus. If he’s not home when you get there, you can look around the shops in West Ealing. Buy some stump socks or some leather gloves. It’s getting nippy, in case you haven’t noticed. You can’t stroll along with your hands in your pockets to keep them warm when you’re using a walking stick.

            – Did you like Dennis?  He’s really excited by my wooden legs. Do you think he likes me only because of my legs? 

            – It’s hard to say. There are men who like to see amputees. Some of them like our stumps and some of them like our artificial limbs. I dare say you’ll meet quite a few of them before long. I actually think that Dennis really liked you. I mean, you are a likeable sort of bloke, aren’t you?  The fact that you have wooden legs is just a bonus.

            – So he’d like me if I had normal legs?

            – Yes, I think so. You’re not too far apart as far as your ages go, are you?  You could almost have been in the same class at school. I think he’s a bit lonely, being an orphan. He probably doesn’t know many normal young people.

            – No, I suppose not. Alright, that’s what I’ll do. Do you want some help with the shopping?

            – Yes please!  That’s the first time you’ve offered to help, so thank you.

            – It’s the first time I’ve felt like I was able to help.

            – Go and finish dressing and we can go. No point in hanging about.

Ray went to his own room and tidied the bed sheets. He found a clean pullover his mum had knitted and put it on over his T-shirt. And worked his rigid feet into his buff coloured trousers. He looked alright. Good enough for shopping, anyway. He went back to Robert’s room.

            – What do we need to buy?  Bread and potatoes. We have enough tea. Carrots, eggs, milk, cheese, luncheon meat?

            – Yeah, we’ll get some of all of that. I’m ready, are you?  Come on then.

Ray grabbed a walking stick and they left the flat via the back garden. One-armed Tim on the second floor noticed them and watched how Ray walked until he was out of sight.

 

An hour later they were back and Robert boiled a kettle for tea.

            – I think I’ll go round Den’s after this.

            – Fine. Have you got enough money? 

            – I’ve got seven shillings.

            – Well, if I give you a couple of quid, you can buy gloves if Dennis isn’t home. So it won’t be a wasted journey.

            – Thank you, Robert.

            – Don’t mention it.

            – What are you going to do?

            – I don’t know, really. I might just take my leg off and laze around for a change.

Robert actually intended to visit the greengrocer’s shop in Hammersmith to tell Peter that he would be free the next day and they could spend some time together.

 

Ray finished his tea and put his jacket on. He picked up his walking stick and promised Robert he would be back soon. He managed the front steps and caught a bus to West Ealing. He had no idea where Dennis’s address was so he went into a newsagent’s to ask.

            – Two blocks down, first right past the traffic lights and then it’s the first street on the left.

            – Thank you.

He found the address and looked at the house in horror. There were seven steps leading up to an imposing front door. Oh, but there were railings both sides. He would be able to hold onto them as he hauled himself up. There was a set of doorbells each with a typewritten name next to them. He found Wilson and pressed it. He waited a few seconds and a buzzer sounded. What did that mean?  It sounded like it was coming from the door lock. He pushed the door in confusion and it opened for him. That was good!  What should he do now?  He had no idea which floor he should go to. There was a rickety lift squeezed in between the flights of stairs. A voice called out.

            – Hello?  Anyone there?

            – Dennis?  It’s Raymond. What floor?

            – Third floor.

Ray ordered the lift and went up to find Dennis standing in his doorway with a huge grin on his face. He strode forward to hug Ray.

            – This is a wonderful surprise. Come in. Have you had lunch yet?

            – It’s a bit early for lunch. It’s good to see you.

Ray stepped in to a nineteen thirties flat with art deco decorations paired with modern Scandinavian style furnishings. An open bookshelf displayed wooden statuettes. To his left, a short corridor led to another room and to his right, a kitchen appeared through a similar opening. The room itself was enormous, easily twice the size of Ray’s and his own rooms combined. A wide window looked out onto the tops of trees and the street below them.

            – What a super flat you have!  It’s beautiful.

            – Thank you, Ray. Would you like to see the bedroom?

Before he could answer, Dennis half pushed him along the short corridor into his bedroom. A double bed was placed in the middle of the room with space all around it, cupboards along two walls and another window looking out over well-kept back gardens.

            – Let me take your jacket, Ray. Can you stay for a while?  We could have lunch. I’m sure I have enough to stretch to two.

            – That would be nice. I didn’t know if you would be home. But I’m glad you are. It’s good to see you, Dennis. I was thinking about you all week.

            – And so was I!  I couldn’t forget you. You are the most super friend I could wish for. You’re kind and understanding and of course, you have the special qualities which I admire.

            – Like my legs?

            – Oh, those too, but I love your face most.

It was an odd conversation. But Dennis’s pleasure in seeing Ray again after a week was obvious and Ray felt flattered that someone he also liked admired him in return.

            – What shall we have for lunch?  I have some plaice. Would you like fish?

            – Yes, please. That would be nice.

            – Come into the kitchen and you can help. Can you peel a couple of potatoes for me?  We can have mashed potatoes and string beans. Do you like beans?

            – Yes, beans are fine.

            – Let me give you a peeler and some newspaper and you can sit at the table.

            – Where did you learn to cook, Dennis? 

            – Oh, I don’t know. From my foster parents and from books, I suppose. Now I need a lemon. Can you squeeze the juice please, Ray? 

Dennis boiled the veg and poached the plaice. It was delicious and had taken hardly any time at all.

            – I enjoyed that very much. Thank you, Dennis.

            – I’m glad you liked it. How do you like my flat, Ray?  So much space. I was lucky to get this flat. The housing association was looking for a bed-sitter for me when I was eighteen but this was the only place they had available in time so they gave it to me. And I can live here for as long as I want.

            – You were lucky. It’s much nicer than where I live now. It’s even nice and warm inside. My room is always freezing cold.

            – Why don’t you come and live here with me, Ray?  I wish you would. I can even make you new wooden legs and your own special chair designed for a man who uses them.

            – Really? 

            – Yes, I think so. I made this table and the bookshelf in the living room.

            – It would be very nice but I only moved to Acton a little while ago and Robert would be very upset if I left so soon. He’s been so kind and helpful.

            – Well, I see your point but you could discuss it with him and tell him all the things you don’t like about your rooms – the cold, for example.

            – And not having a bathroom and the outside toilet.

            – Oh, Ray!  Really?  An outside toilet in this weather?  You have to come here.

Dennis brewed some espresso coffee in an odd hexagonal pot and they talked more about their work and Ray’s accident. Dennis had a deep fascination for amputation and artificial limbs. He fantasised about being disabled himself and often imagined himself using a peg leg or a hook. He could achieve orgasm only by imagining amputees. The young double amputee sitting opposite him was more than he would ever have dared to hope to meet. He thought Ray was extremely handsome and wanted to have him nearby all the time.

 

Ray eventually made his excuses and promised to talk to Robert about moving. He returned to an empty flat.

 

Robert and Peter had gone out for an early lunch at a greasy spoon soon after Robert showed up at Peter’s greengrocer shop in Hammersmith. They sat opposite each other and murmured about their ideas for the next day. Both men felt the other had something they needed. Peter admired Robert’s self assurance and masculinity and Robert had fallen for Peter’s body which was lithe and muscular. Peter had a touch of the working man about him which contrasted in a very sexy way with his flirtatious eye contact when speaking and the way he gestured so openly with his hand and hook together. Robert felt Peter was possibly the most honest man he had ever met. Best of all, they were both smitten by the fact that they had both enjoyed each other’s bodies sexually and offered what the other enjoyed. It had been such an unexpected meeting, too, which added to the sudden pleasure of being together. Peter reluctantly admitted he had to get back to the shop, which Robert understood, and they agreed to meet at Peter’s Hanwell apartment the following morning as early as possible.

 

Robert did not go home directly. He wandered around a department store and sank two pints in the Duke of Hammersmith pub. He fretted about Ray. Robert suspected he might well be sharing accommodation with Peter before long and he would have to tell Ray that his rent agreement had been terminated and it was time for both of them to find a new place to live. He hated lying. But if he and Peter were together, it would be ridiculous to maintain the Vale flat for the sake of Ray, living there alone. He caught a bus and returned home where Raymond was sitting in his living room with a cup of tea and smoking his oversized billiard pipe.

            – Hello, Ray. Have you been back long?

            – No. I’ve just made some tea. There’s more in the pot if you want a cup.

            – Good show. How did your morning go?

            – Well, Peter was in and he made us lunch.

            – That was nice of him.

            – Robert, it’s hard for me to say this but he wants me to move in with him.

            – Does he, now?  And what do you want to do, Raymond?

            – I think I might like to. It’s ever such a nice flat and an inside toilet and bathroom.

            – Ha!  Well Ray, I certainly don’t want to stop you. It’s not like I own you or you have to stay here. Remember why you came. Because you were unhappy in Hayes. It doesn’t mean you have to stay here. You’re young and young people move around all the time. So don’t worry. Do what you want to do, but be sure that you’re not making a mistake.

            – How do I know that?

            – You don’t. You just need to think it.

 

Ray had found a copy of 1984 in Robert’s book collection and was engrossed in it for much of the evening. Robert watched him with amusement. He was such a strange boy. Sitting with two artificial legs, occasionally smoking an enormous briar and engrossed in another modern classic, he was such an unlikely figure that he seemed impossible not to like and want to protect. Robert would miss him if they split up although they would often be together at work. Robert read his own book, Revolutionary Road. It was so optimistic and full of modern progress and marital joy that you just knew it was going to end in disaster. Robert smoked one of his own pipes, a short fat one often called a nose-warmer. Ray liked the look of it in Robert’s face and decided to fetch his own similar pipe when he was next on his feet. It was brand new, and unsmoked. Peter had also bought a pipe in Inderwick’s, a long one. Ray wondered if he had smoked it yet and how he liked it.

 

            – Don’t forget the early start tomorrow, Ray. You need to get to your mum and dad’s early. You could tell them I can’t be there because I have to see a man about a dog.

            – Really?  We’re getting a dog?

            – No, of course not. We can’t leave a dog here howling all day when we’re at work, can we?  It’s an expression which means he’s off on a secret mission which I can’t divulge.

            – Well, that sounds very secretive.

            – Yes, it does. And it is. Very secretive.

            – What are you going to do?

            – If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?

            – No, I don’t suppose it would.

            – But don’t worry, Ray. It’s nothing bad.

 

Robert washed his and Ray’s stump socks and hung them to dry. He tended to his stump and threw a damp flannel over to Ray who cleaned his own. He put on a pair of woollen stump socks his mum had knitted, wished Robert good night and stumped along to his freezing room for the night.

 

As always, Robert was up shortly after six. He donned his wooden leg and a shoe on the other foot and put on his dressing gown for a quick visit to the outhouse. There was a frost. Winter was on its way. He hated winter with a passion for its relentless discomfort and slippery pavements. He hurried back inside and made a pot of tea. He intentionally made more noise than usual in an attempt to awaken Ray. The sooner Ray got to Hayes End this morning, the lesser the chance that Mrs Martin would have started preparations for four dinners. He hoped they were having something like a roast rather than four individual portions like pork chops. But it could not be helped.

 

Robert’s commotion had awoken Ray. He glanced at his watch and fell back against his bed in exasperation. There was nothing for it. He would have to get up. He donned a clean pair of stump socks, laid out ready the previous evening, two pairs of thigh socks and pulled his artificial legs on. Lacing the thigh corsets was the part which consumed the most time but it was the most important bit. Any carelessness would lead to problems later in the day. Ray had been fortunate so far in avoiding serious problems with his stumps. Robert had frequently warned him to be careful with them and to treat them as gently as possible. A small injury to a stump could mean up to three weeks off the leg and back on crutches as a one-legger, although Ray had peg legs in reserve if they were viable alternatives.

 

He rotated himself to his feet, threw his dressing gown on and stumped down to Robert’s room.

            – Good morning, you’re up early. Sleep well?

            – Good morning, Robert. It’s so cold.

            – I know. There’s a frost. Be careful the path isn’t slippery.

Ray tended to his business and returned shivering.

            – Do we have enough eggs for an omelette?

            – I think there are four left in the larder.

            – Would you like an omelette too, Robert?

            – Well, now you come to mention it, why not?

Ray broke the eggs into a mug and whipped them with a fork. He made two omelettes and served them with some ketchup. A warm breakfast was a rare treat not counting toast which was rarely warm anyway.

            – Are you looking forward to going back to work tomorrow?

            – Of course I am. What shift have you got, by the way? 

            – Two to eleven. All week.

            – Oh. Well we’ll be able to have some time together in the mornings. I hope I don’t wake up as early next week as I did this morning.

            – About eight would be best, I think. I’ll try to be quiet if I wake up before you.

            – You always wake up before me.

            – Yeah, I know. Weak bladder, you see.

            – Haha!  If there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that a leg amputee has to grow a strong bladder.

            – You’re absolutely right, my young friend. The times I’ve woken up bursting and had to mess around putting my leg and shoes on before I even get out of bed.

            – Do you ever feel sorry for yourself, Robert?  Or wish you had two legs?

            – No, I don’t. I can’t have my leg back so there’s no point in even thinking about it and I soon got so used to my pegs and legs that I don’t even give them a thought either. I reckon by the time you get your next pair of legs, you’ll have grown so used to wearing those ones that the next pair will seem strange. You know they’re phasing out wooden components, don’t you?  They’re too  expensive to manufacture and there aren’t enough skilled woodworkers who know how to make them any more. They’ve mostly retired. So your next pair might well be aluminium or that pink resin stuff.

            – At least my peg legs will still be made of wood, though, right?

            – Yes, I reckon they will be. You don’t mind using peg legs at all, do you?

            – Of course not. Why would I mind?

            – It’s just that they’ve always been seen as a very primitive way of giving an amputee a leg to walk on. But it’s true, some one-legged men prefer to use a peg leg even when he could have a more natural-looking leg. They like the security and the feel of it or perhaps even the attention which a peg leg attracts. You’ve seen that when Watson upstairs commented on it.

            – Yes, he said he’d seen me practising. Did I tell you?  I’ve been practising walking on two pegs without a stick. The longest I’ve managed is to the bottom of the garden and back.

            – Oh, I wish you wouldn’t, Ray! 

            – It’s alright. I have a cane in my hand, just not using it.

            – Just be careful. You can’t afford to hurt yourself any more. Have a bit of care.

            – Alright. I won’t do it any more.

            – Still, to the gate and back on two peg legs is pretty good!  I wish I’d seen it.

            – So do I. Is there any hot water?  I better wash and get dressed.

            – I’ll boil a kettle.

 

Ray left at nine and reached Hayes End before ten. It took him fifteen minutes to walk the short distance to his parents’ home but he was walking without sticks and felt confident on his wooden legs. June Martin opened the door and embraced him with kisses.

            – Mum!  The neighbours can see! 

            – Oh, I hope they can!  Ray, it’s lovely to see you. Oh, where’s Robert? 

            – Robert can’t come today. He has to see a man about a secret dog. That’s what he said. I don’t know.

            – Well, come inside and let’s see you. Would you like a cup of tea?  You’re awfully early, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

She called upstairs.

            – Arthur!  It’s Ray just arrived!  Come down, dear.

            – Be there in a moment.

            – See, Robert can’t come today and I don’t know why. But he didn’t want you to start making him a dinner only to find out that he can’t be here. So I decided to come early to let you know to make Sunday dinner for three not four. Does that make any sense?

            – Of course it does. What a thoughtful boy you are, Ray. Well, I hope Robert gets his business fixed.

            – Mum, can I ask you something?

            – Of course, dear.

            – Are you and dad friends again?

            – Of course we are, dear. Why ever did you think we weren’t friends?

 

Robert left shortly after Ray in order to fix his business. The bus took only twenty minutes to reach Hanwell and Peter’s flat was another hundred yards further on. It was on the fifth floor. Robert pressed the door buzzer and heard Peter’s voice.

            – You’re early!  Come in.

Robert went up by lift and found the door to Peter’s flat open. He entered and closed the door. Peter called out.

            – I’m in the bedroom. Shan’t be a minute.

He walked into the hallway, reaching round to his back to straighten his harness. The men embraced and kissed.

            – So glad you could come. Will you do me a favour?  Straighten the strap across my back. It seems to be caught up somehow.

He turned around and Robert adjusted the harness so all the straps lay flat across Peter’s shoulders.

            – That feels better, thanks. Let me take your jacket. Would you like coffee?

            – Yes please. I’ve had breakfast.

            – Let’s go in the kitchen and talk. What’s new with you?

            – Well, Ray dropped hints yesterday that he might want to move in with Dennis, if you remember?

            – The young kid on the tube?  Are they getting together?

            – It looks like it. I don’t know how serious they are. I think Dennis is a devotee but he seems to also genuinely like Ray. And the feeling seems to be mutual.

            – So if Raymond moved out, you’d be all alone again in that awful flat.

            – Yeah, I suppose I would.

            – Well, why don’t you terminate your rent agreement right away and move in here with me?  You don’t even need to bring any furniture if you don’t want to. And you can either share my bed every night or you can have your own bedroom. It’s just the box room, though. I use it to do my accounts in at the moment.

            – Peter, are you sure you want me here? 

            – Of course I do!  You haven’t got any bad habits, have you?

            – Oh, I’ve got dozens. I smoke and drink beer.

            – Thank god for that!  So when are you coming?  Next Sunday?  Or is that too long to wait?

            – As soon as that?  I’d love to. It gives me a chance to pack a few bits. I don’t really want any of the furniture I have. It’s all second hand stuff, anyway. I haven’t got a nostalgic attachment to any of it.

            – Alright, we’ll clear the flat and take the old junk to my warehouse and arrange for the council to come and take it away. Do you think Ray can move in with Dennis by next week?

            – He could, I’m sure. There’s nothing to stop him. I wouldn’t want to stop him if he’s found a friend.

            – That’s what we’ll do, then. Coffee’s ready.

Peter had made espresso and served it in tiny cups with sugar.

            – Do you think Ray is a friend of Dorothy?

            – I really couldn’t say. He’s very immature. I don’t think he knows what he is yet. Maybe he’ll have a relationship with Dennis and later find he prefers the ladies. Wants to settle down and have kids and all that.

            – You like him though, don’t you?

            – Yes, I like him. He’s naïve, like I said, but he’s very open and honest and I think he’s a pretty quick learner.

            – Were you hoping for a relationship with him when you invited him to Acton?

            – No, Peter. I already knew Ray is still a minor. I respect his right not to be molested by a guardian. I’ve met his parents several times. They’re an odd couple but I promised them I would look after Ray while he was gone. They were going through some domestic troubles and Ray couldn’t take it on top of his recent injuries. I think they’ve sorted themselves out now so Ray might even consider moving back home if the Dennis escapade turns to ashes.

            – I think you were doing really well. I had the feeling you were like two brothers. A bit of love in the mix but nothing sexual.

            – I think you’re right. A bit of love. Well, we can still keep in touch and don’t forget we both work in the same place.

            – Oh yeah, I forgot that. So you wouldn’t really miss not having him around because you’d see him at work.

            – It depends on what shifts we’re working, but we’d certainly see each other fairly often.

            – You know, Robert, I like you even more after what you’ve just explained. You’ve been a thoroughly decent bloke for Ray. I hope he appreciates you.

            – That’s good of you to say so.

            – And now it’s my turn, if that’s alright with you.

            – It’s alright with me. I already know you don’t mind being molested.

            – Haha!  No, I don’t mind at all. Quite partial to it, in fact.

 

Ray was in two minds whether to tell his parents about Dennis. He had a feeling about him which was confusing. Dennis really seemed to like him but he also liked Ray’s wooden legs. Ray was uncertain whether Dennis liked him because of his disability or despite it. In the end, he could never know. He could no more read Dennis’s mind than his parents could read his. He had an enormous secret he would have to keep from them for as long as they lived. Compared to that, moving in with Dennis seemed paltry.

            – I might be moving again.

            – So soon, son?  Just as we get your bed to Acton, you’re moving out?

            – Well, you see, dad, Robert had been thinking about moving to somewhere with an inside toilet and a proper bathroom. And I’m not sure if I could go with him. But I have another friend who lives in Ealing who said I could share his flat if I need somewhere to stay.

            – Oh, but you could always come back home, dear.

            – Yes, I know, mum, but my friend’s flat is really wonderful and I’d love to live there. And it’s much closer to work.

            – Oh of course, Ray, I forgot. You’ll be starting there again tomorrow, won’t you?  Oh, I do hope you’ll be able to manage. Well, I have to say that I’m sorry you won’t be coming home but I hope that you’ll be comfortable at your friend’s place, if you move there.

            – Now then, June, we’ve talked about this, haven’t we?  Ray has moved out like all young men do eventually and we just have to accept it. It’s perfectly normal to move around a few times before you settle down.

            – Yes, I know. You’re quite right, dear. Well, if you’re moving, have you got some help?  And how will we get in touch with you?

            – I expect someone will help me move, mum. It might even be Peter who helped last time, remember?  And, guess what!  I’m going to have a telephone number. Waxlow three eight three seven. I can’t remember the exact address, though.

            – Oh, that is lovely, Ray. Being able to telephone you. Well, do let us know your new address as soon as you can. Ealing, did you say?

            – Yes, West Ealing and it’s two minutes’ walk to the shops.

It would take Ray more like ten but he still thought of walking distances as he had known them before he became legless.

            – Well, that will be very handy.

            – And the other good thing is that it’s much closer to work. And I can still use the two-o-seven to get there or to come here.

            – It sounds like you’ve made your mind up to move there, son. Who is this Dennis?  Is he one of your schoolmates?

            – No, dad. I met him when we went into London on the Underground and he helped me on the train. We just got talking and he came with us to a place where we bought some new pipes and tobacco. And then we went back together, and by that time we were good friends. I think he felt sorry for me living in such an old-fashioned place with Robert and I think he’s a bit lonely. His mum and dad died in an aeroplane crash, you see, and he was a foster child after that.

            – How awful!  Well, you will be good friends together, I’m sure of it, Ray. Helping each other with this and that, as the case may be. What do you think, Arthur?

            – It all sounds like a young man’s adventure after he flies the nest. You go right ahead and do what seems right to you, Ray, but give it a bit of a thought beforehand so you’re sure of what you’re doing. And never forget that you always have a roof over your head here with us.

            – That’s right, dear. Oh, how you are becoming a young man!

 

The roast beef and Yorkshires Mrs Martin served were very tasty. Arthur turned the television set on to warm up for a matinee which Mrs Martin wanted to watch, having seen it in nineteen thirty-nine with her young man Albert. He was killed in an air raid. The story was of thwarted love and June Martin shed a tear for the characters in the film and for her own fate. She looked at her handsome son with his perfect face and his artificial legs and considered that he would probably not exist if Al had lived. Her husband slept on.

            – I think I should start to get back now, mum. Robert doesn’t like to be alone for too long.

            – No, of course not, dear. Give him my love and tell him we’re looking forward to seeing him next week.

            – I will. Thank you for a lovely dinner.

            – That’s quite alright. Let me get your coat, love. I hope you get on alright tomorrow at work. I expect they’ll be glad to have you back, won’t they?

            – Well, I hope so. I hope I won’t let them down.

            – Of course you won’t. Take good care of yourself, dear.

She opened the front door, kissed her son and watched as Raymond negotiated the front step and walked with his distinctive new gait along the garden path to the pavement and along the road. He waved after a few paces, knowing she was watching, without trying to turn his body. He was concentrating on his legs.

 

A bus arrived after a few minutes and he hauled himself aboard.

            – Where to, young man?

            – Er, West Ealing, please.

            – Sixpence, please, son.

Raymond had decided to see if Dennis was home instead of going straight back to Acton. He stumped along to the block of flats, climbed the seven steps hanging on to the railing and rang the doorbell. After about twenty seconds, a voice asked Who’s there, please?

            – Raymond.

            – Oh, come up!

Dennis stood waiting for him in front of the lift door.

            – This is a surprise!  I didn’t expect to see you so soon.

            – I was coming back from seeing mum and dad and I wanted to see you.

            – Give me your coat, Ray.

Dennis threw it onto his bed.

            – Come into the kitchen and sit down. It sounds like there’s something on your mind.

            – Yes. You are on my mind. I can’t stop thinking about how much I like being together with you and I like how you make me feel. I can’t explain it, Dennis. It’s just so nice when I can be with you and we can be together.

            – I feel exactly the same way, Ray.

            – So what I wanted to ask you, or tell you, is that if I still can, would you let me come here to live with you?  Robert says it would be alright and he wouldn’t be angry.

            – Oh Ray!  Of course it would be alright. It would be better than that, it would be wonderful.

            – I will have to decide on a time with Robert first but I hope as soon as possible. Oh Dennis, you are the first friend I have had since I lost my legs. The first person who still likes me. I’m so happy you want me to share your flat.

Dennis’s erection was straining the limits of his trouser fabric.

            – I would be ever so happy to have you here to share. Are you going to bring your own furniture?  Or will you sleep in my bed with me?  You’ve seen how big it is.

            – I think I’d like to sleep in your great big bed. It would be nice to sleep together. We can hold each other if it’s cold and keep each other warm.

            – That would be wizard!  Talk to your friend about what to do with your old furniture. You don’t have to bring it here. In fact, I hope you don’t. I am trying to make this into a modern flat and I don’t want any old-fashioned furniture here.

            – Alright, I’ll tell him. Maybe Peter can take some stuff to the dump.

            – Who’s Peter?

            – The man with the hook arm.

            – Oh yes, I know who you mean. He was on the Tube with us.

            – He owns the van which we came back from Hammersmith in, remember?

            – Yes, of course.

            – Will you give me a few days to let me get my things together?  I have to make sure I have all my stump socks and I have to tell the Post Office my new address.

            – You can come any time you want, Ray. You are very welcome any time. Shall we say next weekend?  Can you get your bags packed by then?  I’ll make sure there’s room for them here. Well, there’s one wall closet free for you in the bedroom. You can put all your clothes and all your other things in there.

He was thinking of Ray’s artificial limbs. It would be wonderful to be able to see and touch a real artificial limb. And Raymond had two of them!  He knew nothing about Raymond’s peg legs, crutches and walking sticks.

            – Shall we say next Sunday morning?  I can ask Robert if that’s alright.

            – Yes!  Next Sunday we can start a new team. Dennis and Raymond!  Can’t be beat!  Let’s go and sit in the lounge. We can turn the television set on.

            – You have a television?

            – Yes. It’s in a cabinet so it doesn’t look like one. There might be some interesting programme.

 

They moved into the huge living room. Ray’s right leg had started to squeak. He was extremely embarrassed by it.

            – Can you hear that, Dennis?

            – What?  You mean your leg?  Yes!  I love it! 

            – Oh. Alright then.

They both fell onto the sleek Danish-design sofa and nuzzled together. Dennis watched half of a nature documentary from Kenya about zebras before he realised Ray was fast asleep against his shoulder. He had never felt more fulfilled and more proudly protective in his life. After being cared for by strangers for so many years, it was his turn to care for somebody else. A handsome young friend who had wooden legs. He lowered his head against Ray’s crown and closed his eyes.

 

Ray and Robert both made their way back to Acton at about eight o’clock. Robert had to be up early. They arrived within twenty minutes of each other and asked how the other’s day had gone.

            – Dennis wants me to move in with him next weekend.

            – You’re joking!  Peter wants me to move in with him next Sunday. Ray, we can both leave this horrible flat and outside loo behind!  It’s wonderful we can do it at the same time. I was so worried about you. I couldn’t leave here without knowing you had a place to go to.

            – It’s all turning out for the best, isn’t it?  And we’re both going to friends who like our stumps.

Robert thought for a moment. He had not taken that into account. Surely Peter was not interested solely in his wooden leg?  No, he was sure he wasn’t. Although he had insisted on Robert taking his shoes off but still wearing his wooden leg when they finally fucked that afternoon. No, it didn’t mean anything.

            – Peter will help you take your stuff to Dennis’s flat. He’s taking mine to a warehouse or something. The council will pick it up and take it to a dump somewhere.

            – I don’t need to take anything. Just my clothes and peg legs and crutches.

            – Ray, I’m so glad we won’t cause each other any problems. Who would have thought we would leave together like this?  I’m going to miss you terribly but we’ll see each other at work.

            – Yes, we will. I’m ever so grateful to you for everything you’ve done for me, Robert. After I lost my legs, I felt like my life was over but you showed me how to carry on and now I have a new life with my new legs and it’s all thanks to you.

            – Come here and let me give you a hug. I’ve loved having you here. You won’t believe it but you’re clever and funny and I’ve loved your company.

            – Thank you for helping me. Now I know how to smoke a pipe properly.

            – Haha!  You have learned that, if nothing else.

            – Let’s have a smoke now.

            – I’ll put the kettle on.

 

They described their new living quarters. Ray said he would ask Dennis along to help in the removals. He scribbled a postcard and would post it the next morning. Robert was a little surprised that Ray would not be taking his bed.

            – Why’s that, Ray?

            – Well, Dennis has one bedroom and an enormous bed in the middle of it, so I’ll have one half and Dennis has the other. And along one wall is a set of cupboards for his clothes and things, and on the opposite wall there’s the same for all my things.

            – You can keep your spare legs and things in it.

            – Yes. They’ll be out of the way. They’ll be with my clothes so it’ll just be like dressing. Shirt, trousers, legs.

            – It sounds very nice, Ray. Peter has offered me my own room but he’s using it as his office at the moment and I don’t want him to have to work in the kitchen so I’m going to share his big bed too. It’s funny to think of two men in bed together but there’s no reason not to, is there? 

            – No, of course not. Just because most people like to sleep alone, there’s nothing wrong with sharing when you have to.

Poor innocent Ray.

 

Robert fussed around Ray the entire next morning. He found a way to wrap Ray’s stump boots into as small a package as possible and tied them with string so he could carry them in one hand. He had the evening shift starting at three so they would still see each other for six hours during work time. He brewed some tea at half past ten and called it elevensies.

            – As soon as you finish this, you should get your skates on. Don’t forget you have to change your legs when you get there.

            – No, I won’t forget.

 

Ray caught a bus to Southall Broadway and walked the rest of the way to the signal box. He arrived twenty minutes before his shift was due to start. As always, Ed was to hand in the kitchen making tea.

            – Hello son!  Welcome back. It’s smashing to see you back at work again, Ray. Come in and get yourself ready. Want a cuppa?  I’m just making a brew right now.

            – I brought my own mug, Ed.

He handed a big brown mug with an R on its side to Ed. Robert had bought it for himself ages ago but gave it to Ray because he never used it at home.

            – I have to change my legs too, Ed. I can do it here, I think.

            – Is that what you’ve got in the bag, Ray?  Spare legs?

            – Yes. These are my stump boots.

Ed was astounded.

            – Let me get my trousers off and I’ll show you.

He stood up and undid his trousers. They dropped to the floor and Ray sat again. He removed his trousers over his feet and folded them. He opened the lacing on his thigh corsets and eased his artificial legs over his stumps. He ripped the brown paper package open and removed the stump boots. He worked them onto his thighs and tightened the upper laces. Ed was astonished to see the huge bulk of the base, extending to the rear while the front was flat and with very thick soles. Ray put on a pair of short trousers his mother had altered for him. He slid off the chair, stood up and stumped over to the tiny gas ring to collect his tea.

            – Well, blow me down. I’ve never seen anything like that before.

            – Really?  Well, now you can see it every day!  These boots are what I was waiting for before I could come back to work. They’ll let me operate the levers. My legs wouldn’t have let me.

            – I remember seeing a man wearing things like those shortly after the first war. Never seen ’em since. Well, drink your tea and we’ll go upstairs.

Ray finished his drink and left the empty mug on the table. He slipped down from his chair and carried his legs and trousers into a corner, as Robert had suggested.

            – These aren’t in the way, are they, Ed?

            – No, son. I shouldn’t think so. No-one will touch them. Let’s go upstairs.

Ray crossed the kitchen to the staircase and grabbed the wooden bannister. He hauled his right stump onto the first step and brought the left up beside it. With some help from his arms, he reached the first floor. The other signalmen clapped and shouted Hurrah.

            – Great to have you back, Ray!

            – Good to see you again, matey!

Ray was clearly abashed and thanked them for their welcome. He crossed to the work desk and collected the afternoon’s schedule. Ed spoke up.

            – I’ll be supervising you for the rest of my shift, Ray, just to make sure you’re on the right track. We’ll pick up where we left off, so to speak.

            – That sounds good, Ed.

 

He exchanged words with the other men on duty. They shook his hand in welcome and most of them wondered how such a severely disabled youngster had the guts to come back to work in the same place which had disabled him. Cut down from almost six foot to four and a half. Ray was most keen to know if he could handle the signal levers. That was what his whole future career depended on. He waited a few minutes studying the schedule until a signal came through from Hanwell or West Drayton.  Three minutes later, West Drayton signalled that their dispatch was on the way. Ray checked that the points were set correctly for its onward journey and noted the fact in the register. Ed nodded his approval. Shortly after, a bell from Hanwell alerted them to the passage of a shunter from Ealing which needed to return to the shed at Slough. It would have to be put on the right track by Southall.

            – Now’s your chance to show us what you’re made of, Ray. Find the right signal first.

Ray checked the schematic above the switch levers and took hold of one.

            – That’s the one. Change it when you’re ready.

Ray grabbed the greasy rag, threw it over the lever and gripped it. He leant back, pulling the lever into motion and quickly retreated on his stump boots bringing the lever forward and slotting it into place. The points and the signal were now set and ready for the Ealing engine.

            – That went pretty well. I always said you needed to put your back into it.

            – Ed, that was what I’ve been dreading for months. That I wouldn’t have the strength to operate the levers. I still don’t and I never will but I can do it with my weight and because I’m so short.

            – The main thing is, son, that you do it. I don’t care how you do it. If you can do that a hundred times a day, no-one should have a word against you.

Ray nodded his head in agreement and stumped across to the ledger.

 

Ray was so pleased with his performance on his first try and the others were so impressed by it that when he asked if he might be allowed to do all the work on the levers for the rest of his shift, they agreed. Ed had wanted to get him started on theory but was almost as excited as Ray to see the boy literally putting all his weight into the job. He looked at Ray’s black leather stump boots and wondered why his brother had been driven to suicide by only one missing leg all those years ago. It was not easy but neither was it impossible. Ray didn’t even seem to be struggling. At least, not beyond the fact that any normal youngster would not have wanted to be seen dead in the kind of outfit Ray was wearing. Ray’s smart grey shorts and the couple of inches of rubber stub showing were quite smart in their own odd way.

 

Robert arrived for his shift with a stubby pipe in his teeth and Ed signed out. Ray was too engrossed in following traffic to notice Robert’s arrival until other signalmen greeted him. Robert raised his hand in greeting and acquainted himself with the evening schedule. He ignored Ray as far as possible. He did not believe the rest of his comrades knew that they lived together, neither was there any reason for them to be overly familiar in the workplace.

 

Ray stumped over towards him.

            – I can operate the levers just fine, Robert.

            – I thought you would. Well done, Ray. I’m so pleased for you. When it gets near the end of your shift, you could nip downstairs and put your legs on and come back to see if you can still work the levers. You might be surprised.

Robert fired up his short pipe.

            – Alright. I’ll give it a try.

            – Good show. Did you bring your pipe?

            – No. I left it on the windowsill.

            – Oh. A pipe smoker should always have his pipe with him, Raymond. You’ll cut quite a dashing figure with your stump boots and your big pipe.

Robert was describing Ray’s most persistent fantasy. Strangely enough, it had not interfered with his thoughts so often now he had wooden legs and a small collection of pipes. Maybe acting out your fantasies for real tamed them.

            – I’ll remember tomorrow.

            – Good lad. You’ve got some traffic coming through in three minutes, I see. You’d better check it. Ed was watching you a minute ago. Go and see if everything’s alright.

Ray rocked himself round and stumped across to the other side of the signal box. Ed showed him the schedule and pointed something out. Ray listened attentively and nodded. Robert admired his aptitude. He was going to be a respected professional signalman, he was sure. The three month probational period would result in a permanent position and a nice increase in wages for Ray.

 

Twenty minutes before the end of his shift, Ray asked Ed if he might be excused for a few minutes in order to put his long legs on. He wanted to test operating a lever while wearing them. Ed looked at the schedule and agreed.

            – There’ll be a switch at five to so you can try that if you’re back by then.

            – Oh, I will be.

            – Good lad. How’s your first day back been?

            – It’s fine. I’m happy to be here again.

            – And we’re happy to have you, Ray. After what you’ve been through, it’s a miracle you’re back with us. You have guts, I’ll say that for you. Go and change your legs now, if you want to try them out.

Ray stumped across to the staircase and descended step by step. Several minutes later he returned and Ed beckoned him over.

            – Traffic from Ealing is on time so when we get the bell, you can change the points for West Drayton down. Then we’ll wait for traffic to pass and change the points back. Understand?  Let’s see how you do.

Ray stepped across to the bank of signal levers and checked the schematic above them. He gripped one and looked at Ed, who nodded confirmation. They waited for the bell from Hanwell. It sounded after a minute. Ray positioned his legs in front of the lever. If he pulled it now, his knees would collapse. He knew how they worked well enough by now to be able to predict that. He kicked his left leg forward so the heel touched the floor in front of him and the leg was straight. He reached the lever and pulled. Halfway through its motion, he pulled the leg back behind him. His right leg was now rigid and Ray completed his action. The points were set, the signal changed. Ed and Robert had watched him. Ray crossed to the table and made an entry in the ledger.

            – Well son, what do you reckon?

            – I’m really surprised. I never thought I’d be able to do that on these wooden legs. But my stump boots feel much more stable. I think I’ll stick to wearing them while I’m at work.

            – You can leave them here, if you like. Just put them in the corner where your legs were. No-one will touch them and they’re not much use to anyone else, are they?  I have to say, Raymond, you have done very well today.

A steam engine shunted past the window and momentarily enveloped the signal box in smoke. They watched it pass.

            – Go ahead, Ray.

He gripped the lever again and adjusted his stance. Legs slightly apart. He heaved the lever up and away from him and stepped forward with his right leg to push it home with a metallic thud.

            – Perfect!  Well done, son. You must be proud of yourself. All that worry for nothing. You can use your long legs after all.

            – Thank you, Ed. Home time. I’ll see you tomorrow.

He raised a hand to the rest of the crew and stepped carefully down the stairs. He put his coat on, grabbed his walking stick and stumped out towards the Broadway. He was feeling very pleased with himself and surprised by how his wooden legs had functioned, far better than he had imagined. And tomorrow evening, he would do this walk with a pipe in his mouth. And why not?  He would soon be sixteen years old. He was going to find out how he could get an invalid carriage. He would be able to put his stump boots on at home and wear them in his little blue car without needing to change when he got to work. Dennis had no idea that Ray sometimes looked extremely disabled with black leather stumps, although he did not feel himself to be handicapped in any way. He had a fine pair of legs. They just happened to be made of wood, steel and leather and he could take them off at night. He reached the bus stop and soon settled into the long ride back to Acton Vale. He missed not travelling on the upper deck.

 

The flat was becoming really cold as winter set in. Ray had taken Harry’s advice and asked his father for a couple of paraffin room heaters for his and Robert’s rooms. The factory had delivered them several weeks ago. They were efficient when they were burning but the rooms cooled so quickly. Neither of them could afford to let the heaters burn all day, and in any case, that was dangerous.

 

Ray fried some bacon and eggs for supper and wiped the plate clean with some bread. He sat in his armchair and read for a while. He started thinking about operating the levers at work on his wooden legs. If one of them was reliably rigid, there would be no problem. He would have his own pivot point as his weight shifted. Maybe if he wore a peg leg instead of one of his wooden legs he’d be able to function just as well and he would have the benefit of being as tall as the other men. He could take a peg with him in the morning and swap it when he got to work. He could not imagine himself wearing it on the bus unless he wanted to stand for forty minutes on an artificial leg and a peg. He returned to his book and read until he heard the front door open and shut and Robert arrived home.

            – Ah, you’re still up. Good book?

            – Yes. I’ve been reading it all evening.

            – After you left, the others were talking about how well you’d handled yourself. A couple of them had thought you’d need some help but instead you managed to pull your weight and they were all very impressed.

            – That’s good. I was thinking that tomorrow I might wear a peg and a wooden leg and see if that makes things easier. And I can be as tall as the others.

            – You could try that. Don’t wear it on the bus though or you won’t get a seat. We ought to wrap it as well so the other passengers don’t get an eyeful.

            – I’m going to take my new short pipe tomorrow as well. What was it you called it?

            – A nose-warmer?

            – Yes, that’s it. A nose-warmer. It looked very good when you smoked yours.

            – It smokes very well. Very smooth. Try it tomorrow. I expected to see you smoking today. You look really handsome when you smoke your pipe, Ray. So few young men smoke pipes these days. It’s quite special to see a youngster with a pipe.

 

Robert found a sheet of brown paper and wrapped one of Ray’s peg legs. He tried to disguise its shape a little and tied it with some twine. He washed a couple of stump socks and removed his leg so he could clean his stump.

            – Time for bed, Ray. We’d better start sorting out things to take on our removal day, hadn’t we?  I wonder if the grocer has any cardboard boxes he could let us have?  I’ll ask him. You’ll need something to pack your clothes in. I don’t suppose you want to go to Hayes End just to fetch the suitcase again, do you?  Well, we’ll sort something out.

 

Ray rose from the armchair, brushed his teeth over the sink and wished Robert good night. He took a damp flannel to his room to wash his legs.

 

Next morning, Ray made himself some toast and spread peanut butter on it. He made a cup of tea and collected his pipe paraphernalia together. The peg leg package was by the door. Everything was ready. He put his coat on, stuffed his pipe and tobacco into his coat pockets, balanced the peg under his left arm and grabbed his walking stick. An Uxbridge bus pulled in to the stop as he reached it.

 

Three of his colleagues were sitting in the poky kitchen at work with a few minutes yet before their shift began. Ray excused himself.

            – I need to swap one of my legs over. I hope you don’t mind. There’s nowhere else I can do it.

            – Go right ahead, Ray.

Ray undid the package and leant the peg against the wall. He undid his belt and fly and dropped his trousers. Leaning precariously on the left wooden leg, he managed to remove his right leg and shook the rigid foot free of the trouser cuff. He pulled his trousers back up and slid the peg leg up over the trouser leg. A few inches of material hung down the peg behind his knee. Ray tightened the belts around his thighs and waist. Finally he wrapped a much narrower belt around his stump and the peg’s knee cushion. He used his walking stick to rescue the artificial leg from the floor and stood them together in his reserved corner.

 

His small audience watched the procedure in total silence. Ray moved across to the stairs, lifted his left leg onto the first step, checked the knee was rigid, gripped the bannister and followed with the peg. And repeated the torturous process over a dozen times until he reached the top and called out Good morning to the men whose shifts were about the end. They looked at the teenager limping towards them on a peg leg in astonishment before collecting their wits and returning his greeting. Ray collected the morning’s rota and studied it. It was going to be a quiet morning by the looks.

            – Is Ed not here today? 

            – Haven’t seen him yet, Ray.

            – I’m not sure who’s supposed to be supervising me if Ed’s not here.

            – Don’t worry about it, Ray. It’s not your problem to solve. Robert should be here later and he’ll be able to keep an eye on you.

            – Yes, I suppose so.

 

The shifts changed on the hour and the men from downstairs joined Ray. They also collected copies of the rota and groaned when they saw the sparsity of work.

            – Not much going on this morning, Ray. I don’t know what we’re going to find for you to do.

            – I could read the Code Book.

            – Yes, you could study that. Listen, Ray, I know you don’t want to be treated any differently from anybody else, but I’d prefer it if you had the chance to sit down. Shall I bring a chair up from the kitchen?  I’m not saying you have to sit on it. Only that it’s here if you want to.

Ray considered his options. He could insist on standing all day like everyone else or he could acknowledge his workmate’s thoughtfulness.

            – That would be very good of you, Stu. Thank you.

            – Shan’t be a tick.

He returned with a kitchen chair and put it by the counter facing the bank of signal levers.

            – There you are. All set and ready.

            – Thank you.

Not wanting to seem churlish, Ray sat down and opened the Code Book. His peg leg jutted out in front of him. The others looked at him and at each other and shook their heads in wonder.

 

Twenty minutes later, a bell sounded indicating the first traffic of the morning. A shunter from Slough needed to head towards Hanwell and Stuart called across to Ray.

            – Are you the young man who wants to test himself with the signal levers?

            – Haha!  Yes, that’s me.

            – Well, traffic on the Up Slow needs diverting to Hanwell One. So get to it, sunshine!

Ray rotated himself erect and put his book on the chair. He crossed to the bank of levers and studied the schematic before selecting what he thought was the correct signal lever. He looked round at Stu, who also glanced at the diagram of lines and the lever Ray was holding. He nodded. Ray stood squarely in front of the bank of levers, threw his left leg forward so the heel struck the ground and the leg was rigid. Using the tip of his peg leg as a pivot, he put his weight into pulling the lever and stepped back with his left as the heavy apparatus clanked into place.

            – That looked easy. Well done, Ray.

Ray was surprised and elated. The peg leg was the answer to the lever problem. It worked even better than the stump boots had the previous day. It was a matter of leverage and a rubber ferrule provided the pivot. All that worry for nothing!  Now he knew what he would have to do every morning. Change his right leg for the peg. It would be handy if he could wear it on the bus too. It would be handy if it bent. Then he would be able to sit on the bus.

 

The day otherwise passed uneventfully. No word was heard of Ed. The crew were relieved to reach the end of their shifts after such a quiet shift. Ray occupied himself with the Code Book and occasionally asked one of his colleagues about some detail or procedure. Ray folded the day’s rota and used it as a bookmark. He put the book on his chair and negotiated the stairs down to the kitchen. Robert was sitting there waiting for him.

            – Ray, well done. It seems to me that you’ve found the right combo at last.

Ray sat opposite him and began to unstrap the peg leg.

            – Yes. It worked very well. Just as good as the stump boots but I can be as tall as the others.

            – You looked very manly today when you were working. I think wearing one peg really looks good on you.

Ray dropped his trousers and reached back for his wooden leg.

            – It would be good if I could wear it on the bus too.

            – Yeah, I suppose so. But I doesn’t take long to change over, does it?  Listen, when you get home, there’s some bacon in the larder I bought this morning. You can fry it and have it with an egg and toast. I’ll be another three hours.

            – Oh, that’s good. Thanks. That’s what I’ll have. I’m going to make sure I have all my things ready this evening.

            – That reminds me, the grocer said he would keep a few cardboard boxes for us. We have to pick them up on Friday.

Ray pushed himself up and put his coat on. He took his short, fat pipe and tin of tobacco from a pocket and leaned over the table filling the bowl. Robert watched his slim fingers manipulating the thick briar. Ray put the pipe between his teeth and lit the tobacco with a match. He checked it after a couple of puffs and relit it. Satisfied, he grabbed his walking stick and removed the pipe from his mouth long enough to say See you to Robert. He rocked himself around to face the door, left the signal box and made his way towards Southall Broadway. He felt very satisfied with himself. For the first time, he was doing what he had wanted to do – walking along the street with a pipe and wooden legs. And he no longer had to worry about the levers.

 

Next morning, Ray arrived for his shift, clocked on and greeted two colleagues sitting drinking the foul brew which passed for tea. He excused himself again and quickly explained what he needed to do.

            – Go ahead, Ray. Don’t mind us.

Ray went through the rigmarole of donning his peg leg and took the wooden leg to the corner of the room. He put his walking stick next to it. He crossed to the stairs and began to haul himself up them, one step at a time. As he pegged over to collect the rota, he was surprised to notice someone he had not met before talking quietly with two colleagues and looking rather serious.

            – Good morning.

            – Good morning. You must be Raymond.

            – That’s right.

            – We haven’t met but we have corresponded. I am Donald Lewis.

            – I’m pleased to meet you, sir.

            – Well, I wish it could have been under more auspicious circumstances. I’m very sorry to tell you that Mr Robinson passed away at home on Monday night. So we need to find you a new mentor, I’m afraid.

Ray was shocked. He did not know what to say. What were you supposed to say at times like this?  Sorry?

            – Now, I hear you were able to fulfil all your duties yesterday according to the rota and have been experimenting with different artificial limbs.

            – Yes sir.

            – And is this the optimal arrangement you have found?  With a peg leg?

            – Yes sir. It is very practical.

            – Excellent. I’m pleased to hear it. You cut a striking figure, if I may say so. Raymond, you have done nothing wrong so don’t take this as a reprimand but I would like you to stay home until your next shift on Monday at seven o’clock. It will take me a few days to arrange for someone to supervise you. Do you understand?

            – Yes sir. Is it alright if I take the Code Book with me?

Lewis turned to the others.

            – There are other copies of it here, are there not?

            – Yes, sir, several.

            – Then go ahead, Raymond. We’ll meet here next Monday morning and I’ll introduce you to your new teacher.

            – Thank you, sir. Goodbye.

            – Bye, Ray.

They watched his departure.

            – What an extraordinary lad. Well, I must get back to HQ. Good morning, gentlemen.

Lewis went downstairs and found Ray about to remove his peg leg.

            – Raymond, you live in Acton, don’t you? 

            – Yes sir. Until next Sunday. Then I’m moving to West Ealing.

            – Really?  Well, if you don’t take too long, I can give you a lift. I’m going that way.

            – That’s very kind of you, sir. I just need to put my leg on.

            – Jolly good. I can wait that long. How are you getting on here with the other men?  They’re quite a lot older than you. I’m sorry there’s no-one else your age here. We need more young signalmen. There are quite a few who’ll be retiring very soon.

            – I think we get on very well. I respect their knowledge and I want to learn from them. Sometimes we talk about the railways in general when we have a cup of tea. It’s very interesting.

This is almost ready.

Ray indicated his thigh corset and its row of lacing.

            – That’s alright. Take your time and do the job properly.

Ray glanced up at Mr Lewis. He was watching with fatherly interest. Ray pulled his trousers up and grasped his walking stick. He twisted himself up from his chair and leaned on his stick with both hands.

            – Ready?  Let’s go. My car is just around the corner.

A red and white Ford Anglia awaited them. Lewis climbed in and released the passenger door lock. Ray put his walking stick in first and lowered himself sideways onto the seat. He used his hands to move his legs into the car.

            – This is the first time I’ve been in a car with these legs. I always come to work by bus, you see.

Lewis drove off towards the Broadway.

            – How old are you now, Raymond?  Nearly sixteen, I believe.

            – Yes. My birthday is next month.

            – Have you thought about applying for an invalid carriage?

            – Well, sort of but I don’t know how to go about it.

            – Oh, no need to worry about that. My son is also a double amputee like you and he has an Invacar. He’d be able to tell you all about getting one for yourself.

            – Does he have wooden legs too?

            – I don’t believe they are wooden but he has two artificial legs, certainly. You see, when I heard of your accident, I knew from experience with my son that you’d be able to return to work on artificial legs. It’s why I was prepared to wait for you. So, if you can give me your telephone number, I’ll let my son know and he’ll phone you. You can ask him all about applying for an invalid carriage.

            – Does your son work on the railways too, sir?

            – No, he works for the Water Board in Brent.

            – How did he lose his legs, sir?

            – He was shot up at Dunkirk. He was very nearly killed but it cost him his legs at the age of seventeen. But he does fine with his tin legs. He’s married and has two young children. Just an ordinary family man. And I can see some of him in you, Raymond. The same determination.

            – That’s good of you to say, sir. By the way, I won’t have a telephone number until after I move on Sunday.

            – Do you know what it will be?

            – Yes, it’s Waxlow three eight three seven.

            – Ah, that’s easy enough to remember.

They presently stopped at red lights and Lewis wrote the number in a small notebook.

            – My son’s name is David, so if someone calls and introduces himself as David Lewis, you’ll know who it is.

            – Thank you very much, sir.

            – Happy to help, Raymond. Shall I take you to your door or would you prefer me to drop you off somewhere? 

            – Oh, straight home please, sir. I am going to start packing.

            – I don’t expect that will take you very long, will it?  What are you going to do with the rest of the morning?

Ray and Lewis glanced at each other and grinned at the quip.

 

Lewis made a U-turn in the broad street and pulled up outside Ray’s home. Ray was able to hold on to the car’s frame to force himself onto his feet and plucked his walking stick from the floor.

            – Thank you very much for the ride, sir.

            – Goodbye, Raymond. We’ll meet on Monday morning. I hope your move goes well.

Ray closed the door carefully and rocked himself around to face the hated steps up to the front door.

 

Robert got home just after nine.

            – Hello Ray. I heard you’ve been given a bit of holiday. That was an awful shock about Ed, wasn’t it?  One day you’re here and the next, you’re gone. He was sixty-seven and would have retired at the end of the year. But apparently he died peacefully in his sleep so he had an easy death. Didn’t know anything about it. Best way to go, I should think. Instead of, say, being run over by a railway engine.

            – Not funny, Robert. I left half the bacon and I boiled some potatoes so if you want to fry them, they’re ready.

            – Thank you very much. I shall do exactly that. What did Mr Lewis have to say for himself?

            – He said he would find a new mentor for me. That’s a teacher, I suppose. But he needs a few days. Did you know he has a legless son?  He was shot at in Dunkirk.

            – Really?  How do you know that?

            – Oh, Mr Lewis gave me a ride home. We were talking about our wooden legs and things, mine and his son’s I mean, and he told me his son could tell me about getting an invalid carriage. Tell me where to apply and that sort of thing. He’s going to phone me at Dennis’s.

            – Well, you have been courting with the high and mighty. Good for you, Ray. It sounds like you’ve found yourself a very good new friend. Lewis gave you a lift home. Strewth!

 

The rest of the week dragged by. Ray and Robert spent a couple of hours together in the mornings. Ray did some shopping and visited his baker admirer several times. Ray didn’t actually cook anything for Robert but prepared things like boiled potatoes, pork chops and shucked fresh peas so they were ready for Robert to cook when he got in. Several times he practised walking up and down the garden path using crutches, wearing only one peg leg but he did not tell Robert. He sat around with one wooden leg and one peg leg and smoked a pipe or two. He studied the railway code and looked forward to the weekend when Dennis would be at home. He intended visiting Dennis on Saturday morning.

 

Robert brought home several cardboard boxes from the grocer on Friday night. Folded flat, they easily fit under one arm. He gave two to Ray and told him to ask for more if they were needed. Ray put his small pile of shirts, pullovers, stump socks, trousers and shorts into one box and left the top open so he could throw his toothbrush, flannel and towel in later. He had asked his parents if they actually wanted his bed and dresser back. They looked at each other and shook their heads slightly, indicating No. So Peter could take it all to his warehouse for temporary storage. He had arranged in advance for council workers to collect it for disposal the following week.

 

Ray ate his breakfast as quickly as possible on Saturday morning and left as soon as the dishes were dried. He hauled himself aboard an Uxbridge bus and travelled west for a quarter of an hour, looking at the shops and roads and places he would no longer see every day. The Uxbridge Road was a dismal thoroughfare until Ealing Common and its nice park, then the shops. He clambered down in West Ealing and strode along with his walking stick and slight swagger to Dennis’s flat. He used the railings to pull himself up the seven marble steps outside the main entrance and pressed the buzzer.

 

            – Who is it, please?

            – Ray!

            – Ray who?

            – Haha!  Ray the new flatmate.

            – Oh, that Ray. Come in!

The lock buzzed and Ray pushed his way into the lobby. He rode in the lift to the third floor. Dennis was waiting for him on the landing and opened the lift’s door. He grabbed hold of Ray’s head with both hands and planted a long kiss on his lips. Ray was a little taken aback.

            – I’ve been waiting all week to see you again. I was hoping you would come in the week but anyway, you’re here now. Come inside. Tell me all your news.

He closed the front door and they went into the lounge. Ray lowered himself onto the sofa.

            – I’ve been at home all week, Dennis. My teacher at Southall, oh Dennis, aah…

Ray burst into tears. It was the first time he could explain how he felt and the release was overwhelming. Dennis put his arm round Ray’s neck and hugged him. Ray’s body shook with grief and his tears flowed.

            – He was such a nice man. He was so kind to me.

            – What happened, Ray?  Did he pass away?

            – Yes. He died. I’m going to miss him so much.

They hugged for several minutes until Ray calmed himself.

            – I’m sorry, Dennis. I didn’t know how much I liked him. Sorry.

            – No need. I love you, Ray.

Ray looked into Dennis’s dark eyes with their beautiful thick eyebrows and long eyelashes and, still calming his breathing after his outburst, replied.

            – I love you too, Dennis. We’re going to be good mates, aren’t we?  If I come to live with you, we’ll be alright, won’t we?  Good friends? 

            – I hope so, Ray. Good friends. I’m sorry about your teacher friend. But think of it like this. Last week you lost a good friend. Now you are getting a new one. Come on. Let’s go in the kitchen and have some coffee.

Dennis stood in front of Ray, took him by the hands and pulled him up.

            – Life goes on. Would you like me to come and help you move tomorrow?

            – Yes, that would be a big help because Harry isn’t coming so there’ll be only me and Robert and Peter and we’re all amputees. So if you could come to lend a hand, it would be a big help.

            – I’d love to help. I’ll come early in the morning so I’ll be there when Peter arrives. Are you excited?  It’s going to be so wonderful to have you here. I won’t be lonely any more. Ray, we’re going to have such a wonderful time together.

Ray wiped his eyes and ran a sleeve across his face.

            – I’m so happy we met.

They drank their espresso and Dennis produced some biscuits. Ray explained how someone might telephone to the flat to tell him about an invalid carriage.

            – Do you mean one of those little blue three wheelers?

            – Yes. I can have one of them. Anyway, his name is David Lewis, so if someone calls and introduces himself like that, you’ll know it’s for me.

            – That would be super if you could have a little car, Ray. You could get to work in it any time and not have to wait for the bus. And there’s room out the front to park a little car like that. Anyway, what time would you like me to come round tomorrow?

            – Oh, about nine I expect. Peter will probably come fairly early, I should think. First of all we have to take the old furniture to his warehouse in Hammersmith. Then we can take our stuff to our new homes. Oh Dennis, I’m so happy this will be my new home with you. It’s so smart and modern.

            – We can furnish it together. I don't have many things and we have lots of room. It’s going to look really smart.

 

Robert had tidied the flat and thrown out old newspapers, magazines, crockery, soft furnishings and anything he could fit into the waste bin. All that was left of his five year long residence was the second hand furniture and his clothes. The furniture would disappear on the morrow and he was happy to see the back of it. Peter’s flat was Scandinavian-modern, open plan and all the plates matched. He hoped very much that the two of them would match as well. One missing a leg, the other an arm. Both fairly good looking, both about the same age, both queer, both keen on each other. Worth giving it a try.

 

Dennis knocked on the door at half past eight. Anticipating that he would have to do at least a little carrying, Ray had prepared for the move by wearing his other peg leg.

            – I’ll get the door. It must be Dennis.

Ray pegged along the hallway and opened the front door. Dennis turned to look at Ray.

            – Good morning!  Here I am, at your service.

            – Come in, Dennis. It’s cold, isn’t it?

Dennis noticed that Ray had only one foot.

            – What the…?  Are you wearing a peg leg?

            – Yes, but only one today. What do you think?

Dennis stood in astonishment and watched as Ray strutted around the hallway and put an arm around Dennis’s neck.

            – Haven’t you ever seen a peg leg before?  Come and have a cup of tea.

            – Hallo Dennis. Nice to see you. Thanks for coming to help. We’re both a bit inconvenienced at the moment, you see.

            – Hello Robert. Are you looking forward to moving too?  Isn’t it super that you can both move out at the same time?          

            – Yes, it’s worked out very well. I’m really looking forward to sleeping in a warm bed tonight instead of freezing in here.

            – Here’s your tea, Dennis.

            – Thanks.

There was another hefty knock on the front door. Robert got up to answer it.

            – Hi Peter!  Thanks for coming so early. Dennis just arrived too. We’re having some tea. Would you like a cup?

            – Yes please. That won’t be in the way, will it, parked out there? 

            – It might be. It’s right next to a bus stop, you see.

            – I’d better move it round the corner then. Shan’t be a minute.

Peter turned round, climbed back into his van and drove it into the next side street. He strolled back and the pair of them kissed in the darkened hallway.

            – Let’s clear the furniture into the front yard first and then I’ll bring the van around and we can throw it all inside. There’s nothing we have to be careful with, is there?

            – No, nothing at all.

            – Hello Ray, Dennis. Excited to be moving, Ray?

            – Yes, I am, very much. Thank you for helping again, Peter.

            – Don’t mention it, Ray. Did you ask your mum and dad if they want their dresser back?

            – Yes I did and they said they didn’t want it. So we can take my bed and the dresser to your warehouse.

            – I hope we don’t have to take the piano as well.

            – Ha!  No, we don’t. That belongs to the landlord.

            – So, we’ll clear this room first. We’ll take the heavy stuff and then the table and chairs. Then we can fit Ray’s bed in and the dresser. What about the sofa in Ray’s room?

            – I think that’s the landlord’s as well. It was in there when I moved in.

            – We’d better leave it then. And then we’ll take it all to the warehouse and come back here to pick up your bags and bits and we’ll be off.

            – Sounds like a good plan. Right, if you’ve finished your tea, Dennis, will you help me carry this sofa to the front yard?

Ray made an effort and carried three dining chairs into the hallway. He watched his amputee friends struggling with the ugly old-fashioned furniture and for the first time felt himself to be disabled. He wanted to help them too but he could not. Dennis discovered the tabletop was detachable and carried it out into the yard and returned for the lower section. Robert’s room was soon devoid of furniture and looked surprisingly large.

            – Oh, I forgot to take the lampshade down.

            – Do you want it?  You certainly don’t need it.

            – No. Let’s leave it for the next lucky people.

            – Right!  Raymond, will you escort us to your room and show us what needs moving?  I have to say, I love your peg leg. I didn’t know you wore one of those. It gives you a very… maritime gait. Like an old-fashioned sailor. A very young old-fashioned sailor. You should go to Army & Navy and see if they have any sailor’s trousers. You’d look smart with a pair of big bell-bottomed trousers. Easy to pull on over your wooden legs too, I should imagine. Now then, let’s tip this bed on its side and we can drag it out. Dennis, can you grab the front and I’ll push from behind.

Ray watched as his bed disappeared through the door. It had been only a couple of months since they brought it in. Dennis came back for the mattress.

            – Say goodbye to your bed, Ray.

He dragged it out. Ray picked up a drawer he had removed from the dresser and took it into the hallway. He came back for the other two.

            – Ray, take it easy mate. Some things it’s best to leave to the experts.

Robert lowered his voice and spoke earnestly.

            – No-one expects you to carry stuff, Ray. I know you want to but just hold up and let people help. I know it’s difficult but there are some things people with wooden legs just aren’t good at. I should know.

Ray looked at Robert and lowered his eyes.

            – It makes me feel disabled.

            – I thought that was what you wanted. To be disabled like me. Here we are with our wooden legs and pipes watching our good friends helping us because they want to. Are you going to be happy in Ealing with Dennis?  Do you like him very much?

            – Yes, I think I do. I remember what you said. You can never be sure but you have to think you are. I think he’s the best friend I ever had. Except for you.

Robert hugged Ray’s shoulders.

 

Peter and Dennis returned for the frame of Ray’s dresser.

            – This is the last bit. I’ll go and get the van and we can throw all this into the back. Ray, we’ll be gone for an hour, I reckon, so will you put the kettle on for us and we’ll have a final cuppa when we get back?  Do you want to come, Rob?  You’ll have to squeeze into the front with Dennis if you do.

            – Yes, I’ll come along. Ray, behave yourself for an hour and then put the kettle on. See you later.

Peter collected his van and opened the back doors. The furniture soon disappeared inside since none of it had to be handled with special care. Dennis threw the last of the dresser drawers into the van and climbed into the cab next to Robert.

            – Many hands make light work, right?  Thanks for coming to help, Dennis. I have to ask you something. You are a homosexual man, aren’t you?  Well, so am I, so we have that in common. But you should know that Ray is still under age. He’ll be sixteen in a couple of weeks. And when it comes to sex, he’s very inexperienced and naïve. I don’t think he even knows that men can be queer. So treat him like you would if he was your brother. You can kiss him and cuddle him but you mustn’t go further than that. Do you understand me?  I can’t say any more. But please don’t put Ray into a situation he’s uncomfortable with. He’s had enough of those for a while.

            – I understand all that, Robert. I’m just happy to have a friend who likes me. I don’t have any other friends. I don’t want to do anything to Ray to hurt him. You do believe me, don’t you?

            – Yes, Dennis. I do believe you. You are a good man to invite him into your home and I hope you will be very happy together.

Robert looked at Dennis and smiled and slowly nodded his head to indicate that he had meant every word.

 

Peter backed into a corner of his warehouse and the trio enjoyed themselves emptying the back of the van as quickly as possible. None of the furniture was worth saving from scratches or bumps and it was soon piled up ready for the council refuse collectors to dispose of the following week. They jumped back into the van and returned to Acton. Ray had their tea almost ready when Robert opened the front door.

            – It’s just brewing. Two minutes. You were very quick.

            – What have you been up to? 

            – I was out the back practising on one peg. I really like doing it. I know you don’t want me to. Mr Watson upstairs was watching me all the time. I could see him but I think he thought I didn’t know he was there.

            – You are a tease and I wish you would not do that. Dennis, tell Ray not to walk about on only one peg leg!  It’s too risky. You’ll fall and hurt yourself one of these days, Raymond.

            – I’ll give you a demonstration if you want. You can see how good I am at walking with a peg leg and crutches.

            – I don’t want to see it, Ray. Anyway, we don’t have time. We’ll be on our way as soon as we get these boxes into the van. Have you got your pipes somewhere safe?  You have quite a decent selection now, don’t you?  Four? 

            – I still haven’t smoked the one that Ed gave me.

            – The Peterson pipe?  Keep that one special and smoke it only on Sundays, for example. It’ll help you remember him.

            – I’m going to miss him. He was really kind to me. I was frightened of him at first because he was so old. But he was really just like one of my friends from school.

            – Raymond is discovering the meaning of life. Wash your mugs under the tap and let’s get moving!

 

The four of them soon carried the dozen or so boxes of what were apparently Campbell’s Soup, Heinz Baked Beans and Garden Peas into the front yard. Peter collected his van and the boxes were stashed inside it along with spare prosthetic legs, crutches, and walking sticks. Dennis and Ray insisted on travelling in the back, sitting on the boxes. Peter drove around the Bromyard Avenue crescent instead of doing a U-turn and rejoined the Uxbridge Road. Ray’s glossy black peg leg stuck out horizontally, resting on a box. Dennis was fascinated by it.

 

They passed Ealing Common.

            – Dennis, I sort of know where you live but can you give me directions now?

            – Well, after you go past Marks & Spencers, turn right after the traffic lights and then it’s the first road on the left. Number seventeen.

            – Got it. Thanks.

A few minutes later, he pulled up outside.

            – Jesus Christ!  All those steps, Ray!

            – It’s alright. I just grab hold of the railings and pull myself up. And there’s a lift to the third floor.

            – Rather you than me. Right, let’s get your stuff inside. Dennis, shall we bring Ray’s things into your flat?  I have to say, I’m dying to see it.

            – Yes, of course. Let’s all go up. I think only two at a time will fit in the lift but you're welcome to see where I live. Where we live.

Dennis opened the front door and carried a box inside. Peter brought the second one and Robert carried a wooden leg, two crutches and two walking sticks. Ray held on to his stump boots until he reached the steps. He put them on the third step and pulled himself up clinging on to the railings. He moved the stumps boots up to the landing, heaved himself the rest of the way, picked up his boots and entered the hallway. Dennis was waiting for him by the lift.

            – Robert and Peter went upstairs already. Welcome home, Ray.

He pulled the steel gates aside and they went up to the flat.

            – Have you got time for coffee?  I got everything ready just in case.

            – Yes please, coffee would be very nice right now.

Dennis switched the stove on. The table had four matching mugs and a bowl of sugar lumps. Peter asked if he could look around the flat.

            – Of course you can. I’ll show you. Here’s the lounge.

He spread his arms to indicate the size of the room.

            – There’s room to make the place our own, as you can see.

            – You have some nice things, Peter. I like that bookcase.

            – Thanks. I made it myself.

            – Really?  That’s wonderful. Can we see the bedroom?

            – This way.

Robert and Peter looked in and saw a king-size bed in the middle of the room. On each side were built-in closets with sliding doors. The room was neat as a pin. Peter gave a knowing look at Robert.

            – Ray will probably need a chair in here, Dennis. Somewhere to sit when he puts his legs on.

            – Yes, I thought about that. We’ll work something out. He can tell me what he wants and I can make it.

            – It looks very beautiful. You’re very lucky, both of you. Let’s have that coffee.

They returned to the kitchen where the water was coming to the boil. Dennis poured it into a tall glass coffee pot and stirred it.

            – Shall we have a get-together in a couple of weeks after we’ve settled in?

            – That would be fun. Where shall we have it?  Here or at your place?

            – I was thinking you might like to come to Hanwell to see our flat. I can come and collect you in the van if you like but I can’t bring you back. Not the same night, anyway.

            – What do you think, Ray?  Shall we go and visit?

            – Yes, I’d like to see your flat and spend an evening.

            – That’s settled then. Shall we say, two weeks on Saturday?  Here’s my phone number for last minute changes.

Peter held out a business card to Dennis in his hook.

            – I’ll give you one of mine with this number on it. Just a sec.

He rummaged through a kitchen drawer and found his box of calling cards.

            – Thank you kindly. Right, Robert, are you ready?  Shall we make tracks?

            – Yes, I’m all set. Goodbye, you two. Be nice to each other. See you on Monday, Ray. I’m working the midday shift next week.

            – Bye, see you.

            – Oh, one last thing. Ray, don’t forget to let the Post Office know your change of address.

Dennis saw them out and turned to admire Ray with his peg leg jutting forward. He would always be able to see his friend’s amputations and artificial limbs now.

            – Ray, what are those black leather things in the hallway?

            – They’re my stump boots. I wear them when I don’t want my long legs. They have rubber soles so they won’t hurt the floor.

            – I’ve never seen you wearing them.

            – Shall I put them on now?  We’re not going out anywhere, are we?

            – No, I have all the shopping done. Shall I bring them in?

            – Yes please.

Ray loosened his trousers and unbuckled his peg and undid the lacing on his wooden leg.

            – Can you pull all this off my legs, please?

Dennis hugged the artificial limbs and trousers and moved them into the lounge. Ray waited on his chair for Dennis to proffer a stump boot. He had left them a little out of reach.

            – Can you pass me a boot, Den? 

            – Oh sorry!  I should have realised you couldn’t reach. I won’t do that again, I promise!

            – It’s alright. Look, like this. The boot slides up my thigh and I bend my knee so it fits into the space at the back of the boot.

            – It looks like your foot is on backwards.

            – Yes, I know. And next I lace up the top and I'm ready for the next boot.

Dennis handed it to Ray and watched him slide the expanse of black leather onto his leg stump. The boots’ soles pointed out into the room.

            – I can wriggle off the chair, like this… and I’m on my stump boots. How do you like them?  Shall I put my shorts on?

            – They look amazing, Ray. I’ve never seen anything like them before. Are they comfortable?

            – Yes, they feel really nice.

            – Let’s sort out your boxes in the bedroom and you can tell me where you want to have your stuff.

Ray’s few shirts and trousers were soon hanging from a rail and his underwear was placed into cubbyholes on the right hand side of the closet.

            – I can put my stump socks and so on in there as well. That’s really handy. Can you give me those grey shorts?  They used to have long legs but my mum altered them for me.

Ray stepped into the smartly pressed shorts and pulled them up. He was about four foot six and Dennis thought he was the most erotic sight he had ever seen.

            – You look really stunning, Ray. I wish I could wear stuff like you have.

            – Well, you could try out my peg leg if you want. Go on!  You’ve seen how I wear it. Just fold your knee and put it on this bit. I’ll tie the straps round your new stump. Do those buckles up around your thigh and waist and you’re ready.

Dennis did as instructed. The peg was a suitable length. Ray and Dennis would obviously have been as tall as each other had Ray not lost his legs.

            – Just a sec and I’ll give you a walking stick.

Ray waddled into the hallway and brought one back.

            – Try walking. Don’t try to bend your knee. It doesn’t bend.

            – This feels amazing. Oh Ray!

Dennis ejaculated powerfully into his underpants.

            – Oh god!  I’ve just come.

            – What do you mean?

            – My penis just ejaculated.

            – Oh really?  I know. That’s happened to me sometimes too. Robert told me all men do it when they feel sexy. Is that the way you feel, Dennis?

            – Yes, Ray. I do.

 

Robert and Peter had arrived in Hanwell and brought Robert’s dozen or so boxes of clothes, books and memorabilia inside.

            – Let’s sort those out later on. I’m going to have to shift that van in a minute, too. But first of all, by way of saying Welcome, this is for you.

He reached into his back pocket, extracted a small brown envelope and handed it to Robert.

            – A key to the door!  Thank you very much, Pete.

            – It fits this door and the front door downstairs. Right, time to start getting some lunch ready. You can have sausage and mash with a fried egg or sausage and mash with baked beans. What’ll it be?

            – With a nice sloppy fried egg, please. Shall I peel the potatoes?

            – If you insist.

They went into the kitchen and Peter showed Robert where he kept the cutlery and kitchen tools and what was in the cupboards. Robert peeled three big King Edwards and sliced them into smaller pieces.

            – What did you cut them up for?

            – Well, the smaller bits cook through much faster. I hate waiting for half an hour for a whole potato to boil.

            – Bugger me!  Why didn’t I ever think of that?

            – Those will be done in twenty minutes, tops. Give them ten minutes and then start the sausages. When they’re ready, you can fry the eggs while you mash the spuds and it’s all ready at the same time.

            – Amazing!  I’m going to try that. I hope you’ve got more handy hints. I’m useless in the kitchen.

            – There’s nothing to it. It’s only chemistry and timing, after all.

Peter clattered about with his hook holding utensils over splattering grease and stirring boiling water with short spoons.

            – I have to say, that looks really efficient. You don’t feel the heat too badly, do you?

            – Nope. It’s all the same to me.

            – What shall we do this afternoon?

            – I can think of a couple of things we might do.

            – So can I.

            – We’ll start with those, then. After I move that van.

 

Monday morning, six o’clock. Alarms sounded in both households. Ray and Dennis woke with an arm over each other’s chest and with their foreheads touching.

            – Hello, you. Sleep well?

            – Yes, thank you. It’s lovely and warm. I don’t want to get up.

            – Well, you have to. Let’s get some breakfast inside us. Come on. I’ll help you with your legs again.

            – Good. I like it when you help.

 

Robert and Peter woke further apart but with morning erections. Peter sat on the side of his bed and grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on his night table. He wanked for ninety seconds and came into his open palm. Robert watched the performance.

            – Ready!  What do you want for breakfast?  You can have toast and jam or toast and marmalade. We have it all.

            – Go for a piss and let me get my leg on. Why are you still here?  I thought you had to be in Hammersmith by four. Not that I’m complaining, you understand.

            – I delegated all that to my best bloke last week. He did a brilliant job of it so I gave him a pay rise on Friday and told him the job is his. So now I get to be with you in the morning and in the evening every day.

            – Genius. Christ, I need a piss.

            – You’ll have to cross streams, matey. Come on.

 

Ray arrived at a quarter to eight and clocked on. Lewis and another gentleman were seated in the kitchen.

            – Good morning, Ray. Good to see you again. Come and say hello. This is Mr Harold Patterson who has kindly agreed to act as your mentor for the next couple of months. He has a very good knowledge of everything which goes on here in Southall. How long were you working here, Harry?

            – Thirty-five years.

            – But Mr Patterson had an accident not entirely unlike yourself and retired with a pension three years ago. I managed to coax him out of retirement to help a fellow amputee and here he is.

Ray moved around to where Mr Patterson sat and held out his hand.

            – Pleased to meet you, sir.

Patterson shrugged and lifted his right hook for Ray to take hold of. Ray was surprised but he’d seen Peter’s hook often enough not to be shocked by its appearance. He took hold of the hook and shook it gently.

            – Raymond, I have spoken with my son about the matter we discussed and he asked me to tell you that he will telephone this evening at eight o’clock. You will be home then, I hope?

            – Yes sir, we will. Thank you very much.

            – And now I must leave you. Harry, thank you for this. And Ray, listen to everything Mr Patterson tells you. He was Ed’s best friend when he was still working. You can trust him. Goodbye.

He left and Raymond collected his right peg from the corner.

            – I change my right leg for a peg, sir, because it helps me work the levers better.

            – Do what you need to do, son. Still a few minutes before we need to go upstairs.

            – Can I ask why you have a hook, sir?

            – I have two. I lost my arms when they were putting the overhead electric lines up in nineteen fifty-eight. One of the lines broke and fell across the tracks so we had to move it to one side. We moved one broken wire and I was the first to pick up the other half. Well, there was still current in the wire and I got thirty thousand volts through my arms. My hands were burnt to cinders, of course. Now I have four inch long stumps and I wear two full-length artificial arms with hooks.

            – That’s terrible.

            – Well, like you, Raymond, I work around my disability. I learned to appreciate my artificial arms and hooks and the attention I get because of them. People helping, asking questions and being kind, making friends with other amputees I’d never have met otherwise. Every cloud has a silver lining. Are you ready?  It looks like your peg is on. Come on, son. Let’s get back to work.

They went upstairs, Patterson following Ray’s slow but sure progress up, step by step on a wooden leg and a peg. He gripped the bannisters as best he could with his hooks.

 

Ray wished his co-workers a good morning and collected a copy of the rota. The couple of older workers who remembered Patterson called out their greetings. He asked if he could take a look at the rota.

            – Nothing too demanding this morning, I see. Quite a bit of traffic expected after lunch, though. I suppose the factories are wanting their deliveries of raw materials.

            – There’s a new symbol here I haven’t seen before. What’s that?

            – Oh, well spotted. I didn’t notice that. It means there’s a train coming down which wouldn’t normally be on our tracks. It could be a shunter moving a passenger carriage or two down to Slough for repair, for example. We’ll have to take a look when it passes by. Well spotted, Raymond.

            – It’s alright to call me Ray, sir.

            – And you can call me Harry. Alright?

Ray smiled and nodded.

 

Patterson was a mine of interesting information. He explained the history behind the signalling system that Ray was learning, starting in the nineteenth century. How railway accidents had always been the catalyst for progress until these days, they were fortunately quite rare. He quizzed Ray on how much he knew about the local track layout and where points were situated. Ray listened attentively, occasionally asking a question or two. The one thing which made Patterson’s explanations so distinctive was the complete absence of gestures. His motionless artificial arms hung beside his hips at all times.

 

A bell sounded, indicating Down traffic from Hanwell.

            – Would you see to that, Ray? 

Patterson watched as Ray replied to the notification with bells of his own. He studied the rota and the layout schematic above the bank of levers and found that points needed to be changed. The traffic was currently halted at a red signal. Ray gripped the relevant lever and arranged his stance. He looked at Patterson for approval but Patterson merely continued to watch him. It was the right lever. He had not yet selected the wrong one. He tested his balance on his peg and pulled, stepping back with his left leg as the lever moved forward.

            – Well done, Ray. I can see why you prefer the peg leg for this job. It lets you put your back into it.

            – I thought you might tell me that I was pulling the correct lever.

            – Oh, I’ll tell you soon enough if you’re about to make a mistake. Otherwise you can go ahead.

Another bell rang out indicating that Hanwell knew the points had changed and traffic was moving.

            – Now we wait until the traffic passes us and you can let West Drayton know about it.

            – I’ll write it up in the ledger.

            – Yes, always remember to enter everything you do.

Patterson was impressed by Ray’s ability and initiative. He had already made his mind up that he would recommend approving Ray’s performance on the job and making him a professional signalman – unless he made a serious error. The permanent position would start on March the first, nineteen sixty-two. Being too disabled to take written notes, Patterson watched Ray closely, committing notable actions to memory. Lewis had arranged to be in telephone contact every evening with him to write a brief summary of Ray’s progress and conduct.

 

Ray got back to his new home much sooner than he was used to. Dennis had not yet arrived so Ray took a few minutes to change into his stump boots. They were more comfortable than his artificial limbs and Dennis had said he liked seeing Ray wear them. He put his red football shorts on over the boots and stumped into the lounge and looked around. A moment or two later, he thought he might peel a couple of potatoes to make a start on dinner. He was not sure what Dennis had planned. Apart from the fact that everything was new to him, things were different. More equal somehow. He had respected Robert very much and envied him. Dennis was much closer to his own age and envious of Ray. Ray felt himself to be the authority figure. It was strange.

 

Dennis arrived within half an hour and was surprised to find Ray home already. They hugged and Dennis planted a kiss on Ray’s cheek.

            – It’s a much shorter bus ride, Den. It takes twice as long to get to Acton, at least. What are we having for supper?  I peeled some potatoes and they’re in the pot.

            – How about fried liver and onions?

            – Great!  I love liver. Guess what?  Mr Lewis’s son is going to telephone me tonight at eight, about getting an invalid carriage.

            – Good. We’ll have to keep the line free for you. Do your mum and dad have a phone? 

            – No. They didn’t really need one when I was living at home, with them I mean, but dad said he might apply to the Post Office to get on the waiting list. It would be nice to be able to talk to them on the phone. I wouldn’t have to visit so often. I mean, I like seeing them but sometimes there are other things I’d like to do on a Sunday.

 

Supper was delicious. Dennis succeeded in frying the onions to a glossy perfection. They washed the dishes together with hot water direct from an immersion heater over the sink, which impressed Ray. He was impressed by lots of things. There was a refrigerator in the kitchen. The shower head over the bath tub. Having an inside loo again. Living in a building with a lift and the novelty of being so high up and the view outside.

 

They were sitting together in the lounge when the phone rang at eight. Dennis jumped up and answered.

            – Dennis Wilson speaking. Are you calling for Ray Martin?  Yes, he’s on his way. Just a moment, please.

Ray took the receiver. He had a pad and pencil ready.

            – Hello, this is Ray Martin.

            – Hello Ray. David Lewis here. I heard from my dad that you’re eligible for an Invacar but you’re not sure how to go about getting one.

            – That’s right. I’m a double leg amputee so I might be able to get an invalid carriage.

            – Well, that makes two of us. And you’re sixteen in a couple of weeks, is that right?  Good. Now, where do you live?  Ealing, I see. I think the nearest collection point for you is in South Acton so you’d have to go there for your driving instruction and take delivery of the vehicle but first you have to fill out a load of paperwork and get it signed by your employer, in your case British Railways. Don’t worry about that bit. My dad will sign it. But first you have to get the forms in the first place so you’ll have to write to their address and they’ll send you the forms to fill in. Then you send them back and they’ll give you a date to get yourself to South Acton. Have you got a pen?  Here’s the address…

Ray jotted it down along with a telephone number. He had a few questions for David Lewis prepared.

            – Thank you, Mr Lewis. Can I ask you a few questions?

            – Of course you can. Go ahead.

            – Well, I was wondering about driving lessons. I don’t have a driver’s licence yet, you see.

            – Oh that’s easy. Have you ridden a bike before, Ray?

            – Yes, it’s in Hayes End at my parent’s house.

            – Well, an invalid carriage is classed pretty much the same as a bicycle. You don’t need a driving licence but before you take delivery of your Invacar, or whatever model you’re getting, they’ll make sure you know the rules of the road and what the road signs mean. That sort of thing. But you probably know all that already, don’t you?

            – Well, yes, I suppose so.

            – Of course you do. So you don’t need to worry about that either. What else was on your mind?

            – I was wondering how I learn to drive the Invacar.

            – Oh, you’ll have at least a morning, or a morning and afternoon to practise driving it on their test track. There’ll be other disabled people there too you can ask, but really, an Invacar is the easiest thing in the world to drive. There are no pedals so you do everything with your hands. You push the driving stick forward to go forwards and pull it back to brake. And push it from side to side to turn. Does that sound difficult?  Even arm amputees can do all that.

            – No, I don’t think so.

            – Good. Because it isn’t difficult at all. Ray, have you ridden your bike since you were hurt?

            – No. It’s in my dad’s shed.

            – Wouldn’t you like to ride it again?  You are a below knee amputee, aren’t you?

            – Yes, both legs. But my knees are very weak and I don’t think I could ride a bike now.

            – Well, you’d be surprised. You see, when you ride a bike, almost all the pedal power comes from your thigh muscles and you have them intact, don’t you?  So once you fit your false feet onto the pedals, you can ride a bike like anyone else.

            – Really?  Yes, I see what you mean. I’ll give that a try next week. Thank you for that.

            – It’s good if you can get back to cycling because it’s very good exercise and it makes our thighs stronger and that’s what we amputees need most of all. Did you have any more questions, Ray?

            – No, I don’t think so, Mr Lewis. Not for now. Thank you very much for helping. I understand much better now.

            – Would you like to take my phone number in case you want to ask something a bit later on?  Here it is… You can call me at about this time of the evening any day. Well, good bye, Ray. Nice to talk with you. Good luck with your application and I hope we can meet up one day in our Invacars.

            – Thank you ever so much. Bye bye.

 

Ray put the phone down and waddled back to the lounge.

            – Mr Lewis said all I need to do is ask for the forms and go for a road test. Oh Dennis, it would be so much fun to have my own little car. Just think!  I’d be able to get around much better than if I still had my legs.

            – That would be super, Ray. You could sit in your car with your stump boots or your peg leg and go anywhere. Come and sit here and we can watch the news on television.

 

Later, Ray said he was tired and ready for bed. He asked Dennis to join him in the bathroom.

            – Every night I have to do this. I take my legs off and then I need to wash my stumps and make sure there are no sore places.

He lowered himself to the floor and removed his stump boots.

            – Can you give me a flannel with a bit of soap on it, please?  I can’t reach.

Dennis understood and kneeled in front of Ray.

            – This is my job from now on. And I’ll make you a stool so you don’t need to be on the floor.

He lathered Ray’s stumps and thighs with a warm flannel and rinsed them. He patted them dry with a towel.

            – What else do we need to do?

            –Well, I need fresh stump socks in the morning, so these have to be washed ready for the day after.

            – Have you got only two pairs?  Can’t you buy some more and wash the whole lot once a week?

            – They cost quite a lot and I can’t afford them yet.

            – Oh, I can buy some for you. Let’s go and buy some more next weekend. You can pay me back if you want to but you don’t have to.

            – Thanks, Dennis. Now I’m ready except for brushing my teeth and a pee. Will you lift me up to pee?  I don't want to put my legs on again.

            – Of course I will. Where do you buy stump socks, anyway?

            – Tottenham Court Road.

            – Oh great!  Another ride on the Tube. Can I come with you?

            – Of course you can.

Ray finished brushing his teeth and wiped his face with a towel. Dennis reached down and picked his mate up by the armpits and carried him to the toilet.

            – High enough?  Go ahead.

Ray relieved himself and Dennis carried him across to their bedroom and placed him on their bed. He returned to the bathroom to tend to his own needs and shortly rejoined his own naked legless potential lover on their enormous bed. They cuddled and their erect penises touched.

 

The get-together at Peter’s turned into a full-blown birthday party as they realised Ray’s sixteenth was the following Tuesday. Peter laid on a spread of unusual sandwiches which he called can-a-pays with things like caviar (a bit salty), shrimps (very nice), some Spanish sausage (a bit chewy) and raw mince with bits of onion (no). There was also lots of wine and lots of beer. There were no balloons or cards but Ray got presents from everybody. Even Dennis had managed to bring something hidden in his coat pocket without Ray noticing.

 

            – Raymond – and Dennis too, of course – welcome to our home. Especially as we are also celebrating Raymond’s sixteenth birthday. Not quite a man yet, but almost. I will call him a man. A man strong enough to lose his legs but to carry on as normal on new wooden ones. A man who makes other people happy when he arrives. A man with the determination to be the man he wants to be on his wooden legs, smoking a big pipe which other men see and envy. Happy birthday, Ray!

            – Aah!  Thank you. I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I’m happy to have you as my friends.

Everyone applauded.

            – And now let us toast Raymond and congratulate him on reaching his sixteenth birthday and wish him very many more. Ray, if you want to take your legs off, go right ahead. I know they’re not very comfortable.

 

Robert, Peter and Dennis had each arranged among themselves to buy a pipe for Ray. He received an Oom Paul from Robert, a bent billiard from Peter and another wide-stemmed short pipe from Dennis. It was a very boozy evening. Everyone except Dennis had their pipes and the room was thick with smoke for several hours. Ray smoked his nose-warmer, an extraordinarily unusual thing to see in a sixteen year old’s face. Both he and Dennis were drunk enough to vomit shortly before bedtime, which Robert and Peter regarded as a successful outcome. Time the boys grew up. They both fell asleep against each other on the sofa some time after midnight. Peter threw a blanket over them. Robert and Peter sank a couple more pints and eventually fell onto their huge bed where Peter fisted Robert with his arm stump until Robert ejaculated.

 

Robert woke at eleven and noticed his prosthesis was already on his leg. Just as well. He went for a pee. The sound of his stream finally gave the boys permission to get up and seek some help for their headaches.

            – I wish I had my stump boots. It would make it easier to get home. I don’t think I can walk today.

            – Why don’t you have a couple of short peg legs for when we go out?  I could make you a pair.

            – Do you mean like stump boots but pegs?  Short wooden pegs?  Yeah, they might be a good idea. Can you make them at work? 

            – Course I can. Shall I make you some?

            – Yes please. Dennis, I feel terrible.

            – So do I.

            – Hello boys!  How are your heads this morning?

            – Hello Robert. I feel half dead.

            – That’s what you looked like last night. Peter and me watched you to make sure you were still breathing, and mostly you were. Now you know what it feels like the next day.

            – It feels terrible. I’m never going to do that again, ever!

Robert laughed and went to make a pot of coffee.

 

The boys left around two o’clock still feeling rather sorry for themselves. Peter had insisted they both drink a bottle of beer for breakfast and another one for afters. It helped a little. Dennis carried Ray’s walking stick in his left hand and Ray against his right shoulder as they made their way to the main road and the bus home. Both fell onto their bed and slept until eight. Dennis made a pile of sandwiches and they ate them voraciously.

 

Ray wrote a letter to the invalid carriage place during the week and asked Dennis to read it through.

            – Yes, this looks fine. You’ve written what the problem is and why you need an Invacar and I think everything is spelled correctly. Send it to them and let’s see what they say.

 

Ray received a birthday card from his mum and dad who were sorry they had not seen Ray for two consecutive weekends. He would have to go and visit them the following weekend. Dennis had not yet met them. He could ask his dad if he would dig his bike out of the shed. It was a pretty good bike, really. If he could ride it at all, he could ride it to West Ealing. But where could he keep it?  It would look really strange if he came home riding his bike and then got into an invalid carriage. He loved the thought.

 

Ray and Dennis paid Hayes End a visit on Sunday morning.

            – Hello Ray!  Lovely to see you. And who’s this?  You must be Dennis.

            – That’s right, Mrs Martin. Dennis Wilson. Pleased to meet you.

            – Well, come in. I’m just making elevenses.

Arthur Martin was in the kitchen and shook hands with Dennis.

            – How are you two settling in?  I hope Ray isn’t too much trouble for you, Dennis.

            – Oh no, Mr Martin. We get along so well. It’s like we’ve always been friends for years, although we only met a few weeks ago.

            – Dennis was so thoughtful and helped so much when I was struggling on a tube train. I fell on top of him.

            – Oh dear. I hope you didn’t hurt yourselves.

            – No, it wasn’t anything serious but I could see that Ray might need a hand so they let me tag along for the rest of the day and by the time we said goodbye, we were great friends. You see, I was brought up in several different places after my parents died and I never got to know any of my classmates very well so I didn’t really have any close friends.

            – How old are you, Dennis?

            – I’m twenty-one.

            – And what do you do for a living?

            – I’m an apprentice carpenter. I make furniture and wooden fixtures for buildings. I should finish my schooling in June and then I’ll be able to start my own little company.

            – Be self-employed, like?

            – Yes. I can rent a workshop fairly easily and I already have a lot of my own tools and equipment.

            – Well, that sounds very promising, Dennis. You can call me Arthur, by the way, and my wife is June.

            – Dad, I wanted to ask if you still have my bike in the shed.

            – Yes, it’s still there. I don’t know what to do with it. It’s too good to just give away.

            – Well, you see, I might still be able to ride it. Mr Lewis was telling me about it. All you need to pedal a bike is your thigh muscles. Can you fetch it and I can try it outside?

            – Sounds logical enough. Yes, I’ll get it when we’ve finished our tea. I expect the tyres’ll need pumping up but it should be ready to ride after that.

            – Now boys, what you are going to be doing at Christmas?  We’d love to have you come for Christmas dinner. Or have you made other plans?

            – No, I haven’t even thought about Christmas. I’d love to come for dinner, mum. But don’t the buses stop running?  How will we get home?

            – I don’t think they run on Christmas Day, but you could come on the Eve, couldn’t you?  It’ll seem a bit strange having Christmas dinner a day early but needs must. What do you say, June?

            – Yes, Christmas Eve would be lovely.

            – In that case, we’ll be here. Thank you very much for the invitation. Would you like us to bring something? 

            – No, no, you don’t need to do anything like that. Now, Ray, let’s get your bike.

Arthur Martin unlocked his shed and reappeared moments later with a smart red bike. The tyres were flat. He inflated them and waited a couple of minutes to ensure there were no leaks. He carried the bike through the house and stood it on the front garden path.

            – Well Ray, it’s all yours.

            – Thanks dad. Let’s give it a try.

Ray pushed himself up and led the way. The others followed behind. Ray wheeled his bike out onto the road and thought about the easiest way to mount it. He leaned across the handlebars and lifted his rigid right leg as high as he could and cleared the saddle. The saddle needed to be an inch or so lower so Ray’s wooden feet could reach the ground while mounted.

            – I’ll get a wrench. Stay there, Ray.

He made the adjustment and Ray kicked the pedals into a suitable position, placing his right foot squarely onto the pedal. If he pushed off, he could lift his left foot and hope to get it on the other pedal. Not being able to feel the pedal was a nuisance.

            – Here goes.

He checked the position of both feet and pushed off. The left pedal rose under his left foot and Ray was cycling for the first time as a double amputee. He pedalled along the street for about fifty yards, looked around for traffic and circled back to his family. He lifted his feet off the pedals and stood straddling his bike.

            – Well done, Ray!

            – That was easier than I expected. It feels so good!  That’s something else I can do. Dennis, is there a place I can keep my bike at home?

            – I have a garage on the next street. You could store it there with your car.

            – Car?  What car?

            – Oh, I forgot to tell you. I’ve applied to get an invalid carriage. An Invacar. You know, one of those little blue three-wheelers. I’ve sent all the papers off and I’m waiting to hear from them. I have to go to Acton again to collect it and they’ll give me lessons on how to drive it.

            – That would be lovely, Ray. You could come and see us more often.

            – Now then, June. I’m sure Ray has other places he wants to go. When will you know, son?

            – I don’t know. It shouldn’t be long, I don’t think. It will be really useful for getting around when I’m wearing my stump boots.

            – Oh Ray!

            – Right. Shall I put that back in the shed?  You can pick it up any time.

Dennis held the handlebars while Ray lifted his right leg back over the saddle and balanced himself.

            – Well, time to get the dinner on. Pork chops today with mashed swede.

 

Ray explained more about the Invacar to his father as they waited for lunch. He mentioned the ride home with Mr Lewis who had told him about his amputee son who had then telephoned him with everything he needed to know.

            – You do seem to come across a lot of amputees just lately, Ray.

            – I know. I suppose I just didn’t think about them before. I have a new teacher at work and he has artificial arms. Two, with hooks. He got electrocuted and retired. But Mr Lewis asked him back to train me.

            – Amazing.

 

Lunch was served and enjoyed. Dennis helped Arthur with the washing up while Ray and his mother exchanged their news in the lounge. The youngsters left halfway through the matinee film on television and returned to Ealing.

 

They met the next time on Christmas Eve as arranged. Ray and Dennis pooled their cash and bought a bottle of wine, a big tin of chocolates and Dennis picked out a wooden sculpture from the several he had made during the year.

            – Do you think they’d like this, Ray?

            – Yes, I think so. Especially when you tell them you made it yourself.

All their gifts were welcome. Ray and Dennis returned home on the last bus carrying their own spoils – new stump sleeves for Ray and some pipe tobacco and a book about woodworking for Dennis.

 

Peter and Robert invited them to their place for New Year but Dennis turned them down, remembering the state they had been in after the last get-together. They had made other plans, he said. They intended staying inside and spending the evening together. Nineteen sixty-two arrived.

 

 

 

One morning in January, Ray woke up and got out of bed, donned his legs and went to the toilet. He glanced back at Dennis who slept on. Ray went to the kitchen to make tea for breakfast and returned to the bedroom to see why Dennis was still fast asleep. Ray shook him awake.

            – Come on Dennis. It’s morning. Time to get up.

            – Oh I feel awful, Ray. I have a terrible headache.

Ray approached his mate and saw that Dennis’s eyes were pointing in different directions. It frightened Ray. He felt Dennis’s forehead and immediately took his hand away as if it had been burned. He tried again.

            – You’re burning up. I’m going to call an ambulance.

He dialled nine-nine-nine and explained to the operator that his friend had a very high temperature. She connected him with the ambulance service.

            – Please monitor the patient for the next twelve hours. Give plenty of liquids and contact us again if there is no improvement.

            – I have to go to work soon, Dennis, but you stay in bed until you feel better. Shall I bring you another glass of water?

Dennis waved a hand. Ray was worried but thought Dennis would get up when he felt a bit better. It was probably just flu. That’s what everyone always said. Probably just flu. Ray had breakfast and looked in again at his mate.

            – I have to go to work now, Dennis. I’ll see you this evening. Hope you feel better soon.

 

Dennis had contracted meningitis. Septicaemia began to close the supply of blood to his extremities. First his toes turned blue, then purple. His fingertips became numb and quickly turned purple. Dennis was delirious and unaware of the damage his body was suffering. When Ray returned ten hours later, Dennis was seriously ill. Ray called for an ambulance and insisted his friend was dying. Minutes later, the door buzzer sounded and Ray sought the button for many seconds to let the ambulance men in.

 

Emergency guillotine amputations were performed four inches below Dennis’s knees and four inches below his elbows to remove the necrotic flesh. Further surgery would be needed to close the stumps in order to make them viable for prosthetic limbs. Vast amounts of antibiotics were pumped into his system to prevent further damage. His face survived unblemished except for necrosis in his earlobes. He was monitored throughout the night and next morning, when his surgeon inspected the hastily closed amputation sites. No further necrosis was visible.

            – I think we can close this man’s wounds, nurse. Please bring him to theatre three.

Dennis’s raw leg stumps were shortened slightly giving him two inches of tibia and his forearms were shortened to three inches. The four stumps were tightly bandaged and he was kept in a coma for the next three days. Not being a relative, Ray was not informed of Dennis’s condition. On the fourth day, Dennis awoke to his new reality, saw his bandaged arm stumps and screamed for a nurse.

            – What’s happened to me?

            – Dennis, you have been very ill with meningitis. You almost died. The only way we could save your life was to amputate your dead limbs.

            – So I have no legs either?

            – No. I’m sorry. Your lower legs have been amputated and you have stumps a little over three inches long. You will be able to walk on artificial legs but that is some way off. I want you to lay still and I’ll bring you something to eat.

Dennis was too shocked to think straight. No legs. Wooden legs like Ray’s. Stumpy arms like Peter’s. Hooks.

 

Ray knew Dennis had been taken to Hillingdon Hospital from what the ambulance men had told him. He had not been able to get any information about his friend’s condition other than he was in good hands in intensive care.

            – Please call again at a later date when Mr Wilson is on a normal ward. You may then visit during visiting hours.

Ray knew all about the visiting hours. He telephoned the hospital every evening when he got home, always hearing the same reply. Finally, on Friday evening, he learned that Dennis would be allowed visitors from Saturday onwards.

 

Visiting time started at two in the afternoon on Saturdays. Ray arrived ten minutes beforehand and fretted in the waiting room. He still had no idea what had befallen Dennis. At two on the dot, the receptionist called him over and announced that he could go to Ward Four. That was the amputee ward!  What was going on?  Ray thanked her and walked as fast as he was able to the ward. The door was open and he saw Dennis in the second bed, sitting up slightly with his arms swathed in bandages resting on the sheets.

            – Dennis!  Your arms!  You’ve lost your hands!

            – I’ve lost my legs too, Ray. I have legs exactly the same as yours. Little knee stumps. We’re both going to have wooden legs, Ray.

            – What’s happened to you?  I don’t understand.

            – I had blood poisoning, very badly. It stopped blood flow to my feet and hands and they had to amputate them when they turned black and died. I’m going to get hooks like Peter’s but on both arms.

            – You don’t seem upset, Dennis. Is it because you like seeing stumps and artificial limbs?

            – I think so. We’ll be a great duo, won’t we?  No legs, two hands.

            – What about your work? 

            – I’ll just have to learn to use my tools with the hooks, won’t I?  I’m looking forward to getting my first pair and then I can feed myself. I don’t like it when the nurses have to feed me. Don’t worry, Ray. And then I’ll get my new legs and maybe I can have an Invacar too. We’ll be able to get out and about and go everywhere in our little cars together.

It sounded like Dennis had worked everything out. He was looking forward to wearing four artificial limbs and using them as easily as his own limbs. Ray was too taken aback to comment. Perhaps it would be better not to disillusion Dennis. He seemed to be in good spirits. There was no point in upsetting him. Maybe he would be a good learner and master his legs and hooks quickly. After ninety minutes, Dennis said he was feeling tired. Ray promised to visit the next day and every evening after work, if he was working the day shift.

            – I hope so, Ray. I won’t have any other visitors unless Peter and Robert turn up. They don’t know yet, do they?  Will you tell them?  And can you let my workplace know I’ll be away for a little while?

            – Yes, I can telephone them all later on.

            – I’ll see you tomorrow then. Thanks for coming, Ray.

 

Ray was horrified on Dennis’s behalf. He if anyone should know what lay ahead for his best friend. He visited his parents again on Sunday but did not mention Dennis’s illness. He left after lunch and went straight to Hillingdon.

 

Harold Patterson could see something was bothering Ray the next day.

            – I something wrong, Ray?  You seem very subdued this morning.

            – I went to see my friend in hospital on Saturday and yesterday. He was ill last week and they took him to hospital and amputated his arms and legs.   

            – Good lord!  Whatever for?

            – He had… what’s it called?  Meningitis. It cut off his blood supply and his feet and hands turned black.

            – Oh, I’ve heard of that happening. I’m very sorry. Is your friend going to be alright?  He’s getting better, is he?  I suppose he must be if you’re allowed to visit.

            – Yes, he was better yesterday than on Saturday. I’m just sorry for him. He’s going to have two hooks like yours, Harry. And two wooden legs like mine.

            – Well, we get by alright, don’t we?  It takes us longer to get ready in the morning but we get most things done. I reckon he’ll do fine. Don’t worry yourself about him. It doesn’t do him any good and he’ll only be sad if he sees you’re upset. How do you feel?  Are you up to doing some work today?

            – Yes. I’ll be alright.

            – Good lad. Let’s have a look at the rota and see what’s coming up for us today.

Patterson kept an eye on Ray’s mood and kept him occupied with trivial extra tasks and entertained with a few anecdotes about signalmen’s work over the years.

 

Ray coped better as the week progressed. Every afternoon he caught a bus to Hillingdon and stayed for as long as he dared. Dennis was improving every day.

            – Guess what?  One of the nurses tied a spoon to my stump at lunchtime and I could feed myself. It was great!  And when they changed the bandages, the doctor said I’m healing very well. So that’s good, isn’t it?

            – Yes, it is. They don’t say things like that unless they mean it.

            – How are you managing at home? 

            – Alright, I suppose. I really miss you. I watch television sometimes when I feel lonely just to hear someone’s voice.

            – I’m sorry you’re lonely. It won’t be for long. I’ll soon be home, perhaps not with wooden legs yet but in a wheelchair with hooks. It’s good we have so much space, isn’t it?  There’s lots of room for me in a wheelchair.

Dennis was sounding quite enthusiastic and Ray realised that his friend did not intend to be a burden. He was as determined to succeed with his new artificial limbs as Ray had been.

            – Have you told Robert and Peter about where I am?  I thought they might have come in by now.

            – I told them on Saturday night. Peter said they wouldn’t be able to visit during the week but they would come next Saturday, so there’ll be the four of us again.

            – Good. I have a few questions for Peter about using hooks.

            – My teacher at work has two hooks. But his artificial arms go right up to near his shoulders. He doesn’t use them much in the signal box but he drives himself to work every day.

            – If I get an Invacar, I can drive that with my hooks too.

            – Would you like me to order the application papers for you already?  You can fill them out now and when you get out, you can go straight to Acton and collect your new car. Think how funny it will look with two Invacars parked together outside the flat.

            – And they will both fit in our garage at the same time. I’m going to have a little sign made to put on the back of mine. ‘no hand signals – no hands’.

            – Haha!  What shall I put on mine?  ‘ampmobile’?

            –Yeah, something like that.

When Ray left, he felt a lot better about Dennis. He was cracking off-colour jokes and talking about the future rather than being depressed and dwelling on the past like many amputees had when he was in the ward. Had Dennis actually wanted to become an amputee?  Ray thought he could remember Dennis once saying that he would love to walk on wooden legs like Ray’s. Quite possibly Dennis was satisfied with his new body, although no-one would choose to lose limbs the way Dennis had.

 

Ray managed to balance fending for himself at home, working and visiting Dennis. He had to get shopping, pay bills with Robert’s assistance as he had no chequebook of his own and cook for himself. Seeing Dennis’s recovery and progress was the highlight of every day. Dennis would soon have his first pair of hooks. His arm stumps had healed almost completely. He was allowed to sit in a wheelchair during the day although he was unable to wheel himself anywhere. A nurse took him for a stroll around the grounds unless the weather was poor. Ray brought in the Invacar application papers one evening and they filled them out together. Dennis suggested they wait a few weeks before posting them. He wanted to be on his new legs first.

 

Ray explained the situation to his parents three weeks after Dennis’s hospitalisation. He had accustomed himself to the idea of Dennis being disabled and felt able to talk about what had happened.

            – But Ray!  Why on earth didn’t you tell us before?  You needn’t have kept it all bottled up like that.

            – I just didn’t feel ready to talk about it. I’m sorry. Now everyone is waiting to see how soon Dennis gets better. Everything is up in the air until then.

            – You’ll be helping him an awful lot at home, Ray. Do you feel up to it?

            – Yes, of course. I think Dennis is going to be as independent as possible. He even intends going back to work.

            – He may be a tad optimistic there, Ray. A carpenter with no hands?  It doesn’t sound very likely, does it? 

            – No, not really, but I think Dennis means it. He’s only a young man after all. He won’t want to just be on a disability pension for the next sixty years.

            – Talking of which, do you get yours regularly, dear?

            – Yes, I go to the Post Office in West Ealing now when I have time and they give it to me.

            – That’s good. It must come in useful while your wages are still so small.

            – Only another month though, until I get made a permanent signalman. If I do.

            – I’m sure you will, Ray. You’ve worked so hard for it.

 

Dennis was cast for arm prostheses by Dr Young who had tended to Ray’s legs. Test sockets would be manufactured, intended as temporary until Dennis’s stumps had achieved stable dimensions. Until then, he would be able to use a knife and fork and various other terminal attachments which a nurse could attach to the sockets including a passive hook and a steel ring in which he could hold a glass.

 

Ray received notice that his Invacar had been delivered to the depot in South Acton and was urged to collect it at his earliest convenience. That would be Saturday. He had bought a copy of the Highway Code from the Post Office and had been studying it on the bus in the mornings. He was trying to learn all the road signs. They were not complicated. Dennis was delighted to hear the news.

            – When you visit on Saturday, you can come in your car!  That’ll be fun. And you can go to see your mum and dad on Sunday in it.

            – Yes, I’m really looking forward to it. How about you?  When will your arms be ready?

            – Some time next week. I think I’m being casted for legs next week too. I overheard the surgeon talking to one of the nurses, but I couldn’t make it out properly.

            – I hope so. What sort of legs are you going to ask for?

            – I want unpainted tin legs. Just plain metal.

            – They would look wizard. Are you going to have thigh corsets like mine?

            – I’m not sure. If Dr Young thinks my stumps are long enough, I’ll be able to have a buckle above my knee. But I think they’re a bit short. Longer than yours, though. Do you think a corset would be better?

            – Yes, I think so. And the knee hinges and braces keep my legs from wobbling about. That helps. Don’t forget to ask for elastic over the knees. I just remembered something else, too. I have two peg legs and you already tried one out. You can have the other one. A tin leg and a peg leg. That’ll be you.

            – And shiny new hooks.

            – Them too.

 

Ray was awake very early on Saturday morning. He was excited about getting his car. He donned his legs and got up. He made some coffee for himself – that was one habit he had learned from Dennis – and ate a cheese sandwich. There was no point in leaving before nine. The place opened at nine thirty. He thought about lunch. He might be away for quite a few hours so he made a few more sandwiches and wrapped them in greaseproof paper to take with him. He washed the dishes, went into the lounge and sat down. He sighed. Still another two hours. The book Dennis had got for Christmas was on the coffee table and Ray browsed through it. It was interesting to see the various processes involved in making something as simple as a chair. Sawing and planing and making all the joints. Gluing and sanding and varnishing. Ray tried to imagine Dennis using a saw with two hooks. It probably would not be impossible but it would be difficult. What would Dennis do if he found the work too frustrating?  Sell newspapers on a street corner?  Ray found some photos of wooden utensils and drinking vessels which had been turned from blocks of wood. He suddenly sat bolt upright. He had an idea which Dennis might be interested in.

 

It was ten to nine. Ray pushed himself to his feet, grabbed his sandwiches and put his coat on. He checked he had his keys, picked up a walking stick and made his way carefully down the steps to the street. He had no clear idea to get to where he needed to go but the bus conductor might be able to tell him.

            – Fares please!

            – Yes, I’m going to Weston Road in South Acton but I’m not sure how to get there.

            – Oh. I’m not sure where Weston Road is but for South Acton, you need to get off at Ealing Common and catch a two sixty towards Gunnersbury.

            – Ealing Common then, please.

            – Fourpence, please. I’ll tell you where to change.

            – Thank you.

Ray knew well enough where Ealing Common was but not the route after that. He had never been on a two sixty or an old six sixty trolleybus.

            – Next stop, love. Hurt your leg, have you?

            – I have wooden legs. I’m going to collect my new invalid carriage in South Acton.

            – Goodness me!  Well, good luck.

Ray looked at the timetables posted on the bus stop. It looked like he was in the right place. A two sixty came after a few minutes and Ray asked the conductress if it was going to South Acton.

            – Yes love. Jump on.

Ray’s jumping days were over but he pulled himself aboard and sat with his stick between his legs.

            – I need to get to Weston Avenue. I’m going to collect my invalid carriage.

            – Oh, I know the place. We go right past it. Thruppence please, love. Shall I tell you where to get off?

            – Yes please.

 

Ray lowered himself from the platform and walked in the direction the conductress had indicated. He came to a six foot wall with a gate, through which he saw a half dozen brand new invalid carriages parked in a line. He tried the gate and entered the yard. A sign on a row of offices to one side read reception. He made his way towards it.

            – Good morning, sir. You’re here to take delivery of an invalid carriage, are you not?

            – Yes.

            – Very good. May I have your name, please sir?  And your address?  And birthday?  Excellent. Please join the others in the conference room there on the right.

            – Thank you.

Ray worked his way into the room and saw other lucky customers waiting.

            – Hello!

            – Good morning. You’re Mr Martin, yes?  Good. We’re waiting for two more to arrive and then we can get started.

Ray looked around. There were two older gentlemen, one with crutches, a lady and another young man in a wheelchair. Ray fiddled with his walking stick. Within ten minutes, the remaining two had arrived. A man on one leg and crutches and a lady with heavy leg braces and two walking sticks.

            – Well, good morning, everyone. My name is Trevor Jones. This is a written test to ensure that you have an adequate understanding of the Highway Code which the government requires us to adjudicate. There are twenty questions and you have an hour in which to answer them. The pass level is seventy-five percent. Please do not confer amongst yourselves. I’ll bring you the paper and a pencil and you may begin immediately. He placed the items in front of each of them and they read through the questions.  None of them seemed particularly challenging. Is it permitted to drive an invalid carriage on a pavement?  What do you do if someone is waiting at a zebra crossing?  How do you indicate your intended direction if you cannot give hand signals?  Where on the road should your carriage be if you intend to turn right?  You may draw a diagram.

 

Ray wrote his answers in his neatest printing and read through them again. He looked around. Jones approached him.

            – Finished?  May I take your paper?  Thank you.

He returned to the front desk and read Ray’s answers. Shortly two of the others held up their papers and Jones collected and read them too. Finally, all the papers were checked.

            – Well, ladies and gentlemen. We have two papers which scored a hundred percent. The lowest score is eighty, so I am delighted to announce that you may all now take possession of your new invalid carriages. I have some Notices of Delivery which you need to sign. I also need to remind you that these vehicles do not become your property. They remain property of the government and should be maintained in good condition. They must not be repainted any other colour. You are not allowed to carry a passenger, although a dog or other pet is allowed. Now, if you would come to the desk to sign and take a copy of the delivery paper, we can go out to the yard and you will be shown how the carriage operates. The keys are in the vehicles but please don’t start the engines until you have an instructor with you.

 

The gentlemen deferred to the ladies and the youngsters to the older men. Ray saw that the other young man was legless with short stumps. Ray signed last and followed the wheelchair out. He looked at his allocated carriage’s registration number and saw the tiny car at the end of the row. The receptionist joined Trevor Jones and they walked over to the ladies’ vehicles.

            – If you would like to gather round, you’ll be able to see.

The woman with the leg braces had the first turn.

            – The door is unlocked so please hold the handle and slide the door forwards. You see the floor is completely flat. All the controls are on the joystick. If you’d like to get in, ma’am.

She disengaged the knee lock of her left leg brace and gripped the seat. She placed her walking sticks inside the car, manoeuvred her rigid right leg and unlocked its knee to lower herself into the seat.

            – Now here is the ignition. It needs only a slight twisting movement. To drive forward, push the joystick forward. To turn left, push the stick left. The stick will return to its centre position if there is no pressure on it. Similarly, if you wish to turn right, push the stick to the right. To stop the car, pull back on the joystick. If your hands are not controlling the stick, it will always return to the stationary position. On the stick you see toggle switches for the indicators. You indicate by pressing the relevant toggle switch forward and you cancel it by pressing it forward again. A flashing light next to the ignition key shows that an indicator is blinking. Above the indication toggle switches is another toggle switch for the windscreen wiper. It is activated by pressing it to the left. Another press to the left will stop the wiper. Do you have any questions, ma’am?  Would you like to test drive your car here in the yard?  Please go ahead.

She slid the door closed and turned the ignition key. The engine coughed into life. She checked that her colleagues were at a safe distance and gently pushed the joystick forward, gripping it with both hands. The car moved forward and then turned in a wide arc. She circled and drove in a figure of eight until she returned to her starting position.

            – That is a very pleasant experience. I am delighted.

            – I’m glad to hear it. One thing I forgot to mention is the reverse. It is the button almost dead centre. Push it once to engage the reverse. Push it again to cancel. If you’d like to enter your own vehicles, I suggest you acquaint yourselves with the joystick and Mr Martin, as your vehicle is on the end, I suggest you drive off first when you feel ready and so on down the line.

 

Ray walked to the sixth invalid carriage and pulled the door open. He put his walking stick on the floor and lifted his left leg inside. Holding onto a handle above the door, he lowered himself onto the seat and pulled his right leg into the car. He tried out the joystick to get the feel of it. It was easy to move but felt quite solid and reliable. He sat back, checked the way forward was clear and started the ignition. He also moved his car in an arc until it was facing the office building and he drove quite close to the entrance. He braked and pushed the reverse button. Pushing the joystick forwards, he reversed about ten yards and pressed the button again. He moved the stick hard left and the car made a sharp turn to the left. Ray circled the crowd watching him and parked behind the leg brace lady’s car.

 

They watched as each new driver tested their vehicles. Jones asked the legless man if he needed any help in transferring from his wheelchair but was politely refused. The man was able to swing into the car seat by holding onto the handle above the door and could reach his wheelchair in order to fold it and lift it into the car alongside him. The one-legged man had a little trouble after placing his crutches inside. His solitary leg was obviously a prosthesis and the foot caught the frame below the door causing him to stumble. Lesson learned.

 

A couple of hours later, soon after one o’clock, Jones raised his arms for attention and mimed unwinding the windows.

            – I am sure you all have destinations to get to. There is presently a gallon of petrol in each car, enough for about fifty miles. When you fill up, ask for Premium petrol. There is a driver’s manual in a pocket to the left of the seat. Do read it. I wish you all safe passage and bon voyage.

 

He crossed to the gate and swung it open. One by one the invalid carriages carefully departed in one direction or the other. Ray turned left and intended returning exactly the same way he had come by bus although he was sure there was a more direct route. He ought to buy a map. He would buy three gallons of petrol at the first service station he saw. Or ten shilling’s worth. And no-one expected him to get out of his car!  He could even take his legs off if he wanted. There was a petrol station coming up on the other side of the road. Ray decided against it. He would wait until there was one on the left. Easier. There was an Esso on the corner. He carefully steered into the forecourt, looked for a pump with Premium and switched off the ignition. He had no idea where the petrol tank was. The young garage man said Hello.

            – Can I have ten shilling’s worth of Premium, please?

            – Yes sir!

It was funny being called sir by someone a bit older than himself. He heard the petrol cap being removed and looked around to see whereabouts it was. Behind him on the right. Good to know. He watched the numbers on the pump counting up. Nine and ten, nine and eleven, ten bob exactly. He heard the cap being replaced.

            – Ten shillings please, sir.

            – Do you sell maps?

            – Yes, we do. What area do you need?

            – A local map, say from Uxbridge to Hammersmith.

            – I think we have a map for West London and Middlesex. I’ll check. Just a moment.

He jogged back inside and shortly reappeared with a folding map.

            – Here’s your receipt sir. This map is what you need. It’s half a crown.

            – Thank you. Here’s half a crown.

Ray started the car and moved carefully back on to the road. Now he had enough petrol to last at least a week. Uxbridge Road seemed busier than usual. People were driving to the shops, he supposed. He kept his speed down but soon caught up with a bus. He kept behind it for a while until it suddenly slowed and turned left into Hanwell Garage. Other cars overtook him but he was pleased to be with them on the road, free to go anywhere whenever he wanted. He wondered how fast the invalid carriage would go. When he arrived at Hillingdon Hospital, he would take the driver’s manual inside to show Dennis. It would probably say how fast it was supposed to go. He turned left onto the long road which led to the hospital. How many times had he walked that?  Not any more!  Where could he leave the car?  There was a car park to one side. He would try in there. Lots of space!  Ray left the car with the new manual and locked the door. He swaggered into reception, stated his business and continued to Ward Four.

 

            – Hello Dennis!  How are you?  Guess what!  I drove here!

            – That’s super. Well done, Ray. Have you just got it?

            – Yes. I stopped for petrol but otherwise I came straight here.

Dennis was wearing a hinged socket on his right arm. It was pink and had a steel hook on the end. It was of little practical use but it was good for new arm amputees to have something. Wearing a hook helped accustom them to seeing something other than their hand.

            – I’ve got myself a hook. Look!  I was reading a newspaper this morning and I could turn the pages with it.

            – That’s wizard. Is it comfortable to wear?

            – Yes, it’s fine. It feels strange but it’s not uncomfortable.

He lifted his arm and moved the hook around.

            – The only trouble is these hinges at the elbows. I can’t really twist my arm. Rotate it, I mean. The hook goes forward and back and left and right but I can’t turn it.

            – Did Dr Young say your proper artificial arms will have hinges? 

            – Yes. This is how he said he’s going to make them. He said my stumps are too short to control a normal socket to so it has to be fixed to my upper arm. The same as my legs. I will have to have leather thigh corsets like yours. It will be difficult for me to lace them in the morning, won’t it? 

            – Well, once you get them laced through the holes, you could make a loop in the laces you can pull tight with your hooks. I don’t mind helping you lacing up. It’s going to be strange sitting next to each other both putting our artificial legs on, isn’t it?  I wish you were home now.

            – So do I. I miss you so much. What was that you had when you came in?

            – It’s the manual which came with the invalid carriage. I thought we could look at it together. It won’t be long before you get your own. It’s really easy to drive, Dennis. You won’t have any problems using it with hooks. Even ones like that one.

            – Put it on my lap and we’ll have a look.

Ray did as asked and Dennis carefully positioned the hook to open the cover to the first page. List of contents.

            – Is there anything there about how fast it goes?  I didn’t dare try it on the main road.

            – Specifications, page fifteen. See if I can find it.

The pages of the brand new booklet were too tightly bound for Dennis to turn with his hook. Ray browsed through it quickly, page by page. They hung open, separated. Dennis moved his hook down the list of specifications.

            – Maximum speed thirty-two miles an hour. That’s not bad. But I bet we could tune the engine to get it up to fifty.

            – I don’t think you’re allowed to do that, Den.

            – Oh, but people do. I’m sure I’ve seen these things overtaking other cars. Let me have a look at all this.

Ray leaned back and watched his friend engrossed in the user’s manual, slowly moving his hook over the pages to keep them flat. He seemed to be perfectly accustomed to doing such a thing. And talking about tuning the engine!  Ray had no idea how to do such a thing but Dennis knew and seemed determined to try despite wearing two hooks.

            – Yeah, I’m sure I could get a bit more power out of this engine. I expect they make it deliberately slow.

            – Well, I’m very pleased with the speed it goes now. Have you heard about your leg casting?

            – Only that it’s next week some time. I don’t know what day. Oh yes, I almost forgot. Can you bring me a pair of my shoes next time you come?  My black pair would be best because they’re fairly new.

            – Yes, I’ll bring them tomorrow.

They chatted for another hour until a nurse arrived to take blood for testing.

            – I think I ought to go now, Den. I’ll see you tomorrow.

            – See you, Ray.

 

Ray thought about visiting his parents next to show them his car but decided against it. They would see it on Sunday anyway. He drove to West Ealing and parked near the entrance to his home. He would be able to see it from the kitchen window. Once inside, he took his legs off and changed into his stump boots. They were more comfortable. He did not find being short inconvenient. He could still reach most things. The phone rang.

            – Hello, is that Ray?  This is Robert. Listen, Peter and I were thinking about you and Dennis today and we remembered you’re all on your own so we’d like to invite you over this evening if you don’t have anything else to do.

            – Oh, that would be great. I was just wondering what to do this evening. Yes, I’d love to come. What time? 

            – Whenever you like. Right away, if you want.

            – Alright, I’ll see you in a bit. Thanks very much.

Now he could go out wearing his stump boots. He put his jacket back on, picked up Dennis’s shoes so he would have them tomorrow and went back to his car. He arrived outside Peter’s flat a quarter of an hour later and pressed the buzzer.

            – Who is it, please?

            – Raymond!

            – Blimey, that was quick!  Come on in.

Ray called the lift and went up to the fifth floor. The door was ajar and Ray went in and closed it. Robert and Peter were in the kitchen making food.

            – Hi Ray. Good to see you. You certainly didn’t waste any time, did you?

            – It’s quicker when you have your own car.

            – What?  Have you got your Invacar already?  How long have you had that?

Peter crossed to the lounge and looked down to the street. The invalid carriage was parked across the street.

            – Is that yours outside? 

            – Yup. I got it today. I had to go to South Acton to pick it up. I drove from Acton to Hillingdon to see Dennis and then home and now here.

            – And it’s much more convenient than the bus, isn’t it?  How was Dennis?

            – He has a new hook. It doesn’t open and close like yours but he can do a few things. He’s having his leg casts done next week. He said he could make my car do fifty miles an hour. It only does thirty now.

            – Well, that should be quite fast enough until you get the hang of it. You don’t want to race about the place, do you?

            – No, of course not. I don’t drive that fast anyway. It was fun coming here wearing stump boots. No-one else could see.

            – You’re not self-conscious about them though, are you?

            – Not really. Dennis said he’s going to make me a pair of short peg legs when he gets out.

            – You still want to wear two peg legs, do you? 

            – Yes. They’re more secure than my long legs and short ones will be more practical.

            – I must say, I admire Dennis’s determination to carry on as if nothing had happened. He doesn’t realise yet that he’s got a lot of learning ahead of him.

            – Do you reckon he’ll be able to carry on with his apprenticeship, Pete?

            – I wouldn’t be surprised. So much work is done on machines these days. If he can hold a block of wood against a sander, or operate a lathe with his hooks, I don’t see that it will make much difference. He’ll have to learn new ways to do the things he already knows and I don’t believe an employer would take him on but there’s no reason he shouldn’t be self-employed and do contract work if he’s able to.

            – How about you, Ray?  You must be coming up to the end of your apprenticeship. When will you know if you’re being made permanent?

            – I would be a professional signalman on March the first.

            – Only a couple of weeks, then. Another good reason for a party. Ray, if you’re driving, you mustn’t drink alcohol this evening but there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have a shandy right now if you’d like one.

            – Yes please.

Robert poured some pale ale into a tall glass and topped it up with lemonade.

            – Here you are, matey. Cheers. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Why don’t you two go and sit down and I’ll get things ready here.

            – Yes, come on Ray. I want to hear more about these peg legs you want Dennis to make.

They sat in armchairs facing each other over the coffee table.

            – Well, it was Dennis who suggested making them, really. I can just about walk on my two peg legs now but they are a bit long and it’s hard to balance. But with shorter pegs, it would be much easier to walk on them, especially if the bottom part is quite wide. I could wear them at home and in my car.

            – How would they be better than those stump boots?

            – They would be another alternative. I would be using different muscles so it would be like exercise. I don’t walk nearly as much as I used to.

            – No, I don’t suppose so. Why don’t you just shorten the pegs you have now?  Just saw a bit off?

            – I thought of that but I use a peg at work.

            – Do you?  You wear a peg leg with your wooden leg?

            – Yes. I have been wearing the two long legs to go to work on the bus and when I get there, I take the right leg off and put a peg leg on.

            – Over your trousers, you mean?

            – Yes.

            – I bet that raises a few eyebrows, doesn’t it?

            – Haha!  Yes, it does.

            – You like being the centre of attention, don’t you, Ray?

            – Sort of. I am doing something unusual so it’s only natural that people are interested in watching.

            – I should think your new short pegs would attract their attention too.

            – Can I ask you about your artificial arm, Peter?

            – Yes, of course. What do you want to know?

            – Well, Dennis said that Dr Young – he makes the artificial limbs at Hillingdon – he said he was making a pair of arms for Dennis with elbow hinges. You haven’t got elbow hinges on yours, have you, so what’s the difference?

            – How long are his arm stumps, Ray, do you know?

            – About three inches.

            – Oh, no wonder. That’s awfully short. You see, for the socket to stay on my arm, it grips my stump for a good nine inches. Three inches is not enough. A socket like mine would just fall off all the time. So they put a hinge at the elbow and make the biceps cuff – this part – longer so it does the job of holding the socket in place. Do you see?

            – Yes, I get it.

            – The problem is that the hinges make it almost impossible to twist the hook. You can move it up and down and left and right but you can’t do things like open a jar or turn a key, not easily, anyway.

            – So Dennis will be even more disabled with the hinges?

            – From what you’ve told me, Ray, I have to say that yes, Dennis is going to have extra problems.

Ray lowered his eyes and sat quietly for a few moments.

            – But Dennis will find a way, Ray. This time next year, both of you will be strolling about together like before your accident and Dennis will be using his hooks to do what he wants to do. Remember that you’re both just beginners at this amputee lark. You can’t expect to be experts right off the bat.

Ray looked at Peter for reassurance and smiled.

            – Amputee lark. Haha!

 

Robert called them into the kitchen and served spaghetti bolognese. Ray was surprised to see white spaghetti. He had never seen any that had not come out of a tin. But it was really nice. Robert and Peter washed theirs down with a glass of beer. Peter sent Robert into the lounge to relax while he and Ray washed the dishes. Finally, they sat around the coffee table and Peter taught Ray how to play Scrabble. It was good fun and he managed to beat them. He thanked them for an enjoyable evening and wished them Good night. He had to read his driver’s manual under a streetlight to find out where the headlight switch was and drove himself back to Ealing along a much quietened street.

 

Next morning, Ray donned his wooden legs. He would be paying his parents a visit later and his mother was always appalled by the sight of her son wearing his comfortable stump boots. He was getting a little tired of the continual Sunday visits. It would be nicer if he could just drop in any time during the week. He would have to suggest it to them. He was sure Dennis would enjoy having a Sunday roast every week but he needed to get his own invalid carriage first. Ray would put the idea to them when Dennis was out of hospital.

 

He drove up and parked outside his parent’s house just in time for mid-morning tea and biscuits. He worked his way out of the car, picked up his walking stick and knocked on the door. He still had his key but he wanted to show off his car first. He dad came to the door and immediately spotted the blue invalid carriage. He beamed at his son.

            – Hello Ray!  You’ve finally got it. That’s wonderful. June!  Come and see this!

His mother approached from the kitchen.

            – Whatever’s going on?  Hello Ray. Why didn’t you use your key?

            – Look at what’s parked outside the gate.

            – Oh, Ray!  You’ve got your little car. I must have a look at it a bit later on but I’m busy in the kitchen at the moment. Come in when you’re ready.

Ray and his father went to the car. Ray opened the door and invited his dad to sit inside.

            – No pedals at all. Everything works off this joystick. It’s really easy to drive, dad. I’d let you have a go but it’s not allowed.

            – No, I know it isn’t. I don’t really want to drive an invalid carriage, Ray. Not fast enough for me. Well, you must be really pleased to be able to get out and about without waiting for buses all the time.

            – Yes, it’s the best part.

            – Jolly good. Let’s go and have that cuppa, shall we?

 

Lunch was roast lamb and mint sauce. Ray disliked lamb but ate it anyway. He was learning the effort needed to prepare a meal so he appreciated his mum’s hard work.

            – Thank you for a lovely dinner. I’m going to Hillingdon now to see Dennis.

            – Give him our love. I hope he’s feeling better.

            – I think so. He was waving his new hook around yesterday.

            – Oh Raymond!

            – See you next weekend at the latest. Bye!

He dropped his stick inside and climbed into his car. Mr and Mrs Martin stood at the front door watching their lovely boy sitting in the dreadfully ugly blue invalid carriage. Ray turned the ignition, pushed the joystick and the car moved away in a cloud of blue exhaust fumes.

            

Dennis was in a wheelchair.

            – Hello Dennis. Shall we go outside?  I can show you my car.

            – Alright. I’m allowed out if someone pushes. Can’t do much pushing with this.

He lifted his hook and shook it.

            – Mum and dad send their love. They hope you’re feeling better.

            – Well, I suppose I am. I’m getting bored and frustrated by having to wait for my new limbs. Apparently my hooks are going to be ready on Wednesday and Dr Young is going to do my leg casts at the same time, so I’ll be in the Orthotics Department the whole afternoon. So come quite late if you’re coming.

            – Of course I’m coming. So will you have hooks from Wednesday?  That’s really wizard! 

            – Did I tell you what hooks I’m having?  Two work hooks, like Peter’s big knobbly one and then one normal hook for my left arm and an artificial hand for my right. I thought a hand would look special. People will notice the hook straight away and think Oh, the poor boy has lost a hand. Then they’ll see my hand and get another surprise. It’s artificial too!

            – That sounds like fun. You’re going to have a good time learning to use all that stuff. Swapping them around.

            – I know. Is that your car?

            – It is. I’d let you sit in it but I don’t think I ought to pick you up. Maybe a bit later on.

            – When I have my stump boots.

            – Are you getting stump boots as well?  That reminds me.

Ray slid the door of his car open and wheeled Dennis closer so he could have a good look. He reached in and picked up Dennis’s good black leather shoes. Dennis put them on his lap. He took a look at the car’s interior. He already had an idea of what he was looking at after studying the manual the previous afternoon.

            – It looks like I’ll be able to drive one of these just fine with hooks.

            – Shall I send your application off next week?

            – Yeah, you could do. You’ll have to get a signature from my employer, though. Still, you can go there easily enough now. And I don’t have anyone else who could legally sign on my behalf so maybe Dr Young would vouch for me. Bring the papers in tomorrow and I’ll ask him when I see him. It’ll take at least three weeks, won’t it?  I should be back home by that time. Either in a chair or on tin legs. Let’s go back in. Not very warm, is it?  Lock your car.

Ray pushed the wheelchair holding his limbless best friend back to the waiting room.

            – I hope they give you a better wheelchair than this when you come home. Not very compact, is it?  Although, you could just as well use mine. Do you have any plans where we are both in wheelchairs?

            –Maybe if we go down to the seaside one day, we could wheel ourselves along the promenade wearing stump boots. We would have a bigger audience than the Punch and Judy show.

            – Down to the coast?  That would take us ages!

            – Ah!  Now you see why I suggested tinkering with the engine.

            – Yes, I get it. What happens if they find out?  They might not let us have another one. That wouldn’t be any good.

            – I’ll find out. Once we have our cars and start travelling about, we’ll meet other Invacar users and we can ask them if they’ve made any unofficial improvements.

            – Good idea. We’ll do that this summer, one weekend. I don’t know if I’ll get a summer holiday from work this year. Oh, Dennis!  I just remembered!  If they make me a permanent signalman, I’ll be allowed to travel on the railways for free and I think a friend is allowed to come with me. That’ll be good.

            – Yes, that would be good for a day out or a weekend away.

Neither of them had travelled very far from home. Dennis had lived in several different towns but none of them were distant. They chatted about their future travel plans until Dennis said he was worn out and wanted to go back to the ward for a nap. Ray pushed him and asked him if he needed help getting into bed.

            – I do but it’s the nurse’s job. I’ll see you tomorrow. Remember those papers.

            – I will.

Ray made his way out and returned to his car. It might be fun to go on a longer trip one day. They could go on picnics and things like that and just spend the day together somewhere quiet where there was no-one else around to point at their stump boots and hooks.

 

Ray was feeling more optimistic than he had for weeks. Dennis’s positive determination to learn to use his artificial limbs and continue where he left off had helped assure Ray that their life together was not going to be an endless stream of inconveniences and frustration. His new car was a huge success, a huge help and he had almost finished his apprenticeship. Just one more week and he would know for sure.

 

He drove to work the next morning for the first time. He sat in the car outside the flat for a few minutes filling his short fat pipe with tobacco and waited until it was drawing properly. He started the ignition and moved off, pipe clenched in his teeth. He wound the window open a little for ventilation. He felt very accomplished in the morning rush with other traffic around him.

 

He did not say anything about the car to his colleagues. They would notice it parked around the side of the signal box soon enough and could guess who it belonged to. He changed his right leg for the peg and went outside to check if there was enough leg space in the front of his car to let him wear a peg while seated and driving. There was!  Now he could take his work peg leg home and put it on first thing in the morning under his trousers. He would be wearing the peg the entire day. He decided he would wear it home in the afternoon instead of leaving it at work.

 

It was the last week of his apprenticeship. Patterson reminded him of the fact and hinted that under no circumstances should Ray miss work on Thursday. He spoke no more on the subject. Robert was working the morning shift again. They would be together all week. It was nice when Robert was around. Robert was smoking a billiard which Ray had not seen before. It suited Robert’s face. Ray rarely smoked at work and even then, only downstairs in the kitchen during a tea break.

 

The shift passed uneventfully. The new staff magazine had an article about automatic signalling being trialled somewhere in Germany. Ray read it but thought that whatever happened, they would still need signalmen to ensure that the automatic signals were working properly. He clocked off at four and drove to Hillingdon with Dennis’s Invacar application papers.

            – Oh, look at you with the peg leg!

            – I can drive the car wearing it. It’s great!

            – Thanks for these. I saw Dr Young this morning and he said he would sign them. Then we need a signature from my employer and then you can post them off. Do you think you could telephone my workplace one afternoon and arrange to have someone come to the front desk to sign them?  I’m sorry to have to ask but I can’t really use a telephone right now myself.

            – Yes, I can telephone. Who should I ask for? 

            – John Stapleton is the boss. If you talk to his secretary, she might collect the papers herself and take them to John’s office for signing the next day, so you’d have to go back there again to collect them.

            – I don’t mind that. I’ll try to remember. John Stapleton.

            – So how was work? 

            – Oh, I think I’m getting my certificate on Thursday. Mr Patterson dropped a hint. He said under no circumstances should I miss work on Thursday.

            – You haven’t missed a single day yet, have you?  Except when you were having your legs off, obviously, but that hardly counts. You weren’t off sick.

            – No, I wasn’t sick. Anyway, I hope they don’t make a song and dance out of it. I expect Mr Lewis will be there. It will be nice to see him again.

            – You are funny, Ray. Having Mr Lewis as a pal. You know who he is, don’t you? 

            – What do you mean?

            – He’s the top controller for the railways in the south of the country. Above him, the next man up is the minister for transport. And then the prime minister.

            – Oh. Well, it was still nice of him to give me a lift home that time.

            – Yes, it was. And nice of his son to help us too.

            – I wonder if I should telephone him to let him know I got my Invacar. He said it would be fun to meet up in our cars one day.

            – Ask him how fast his goes. I bet he’s tuned it!

 

Ray arrived at Hillingdon the next afternoon at the usual time. He was wearing his peg under his loose trousers this time and did not present such a surprising image, although his gait was distinctive enough to attract attention. Dennis was fidgety.

            – Are you excited about getting your arms tomorrow?

            – What do you think?  Of course I am!  We’ll be able to shake hands again.

            – Oh yes, I forgot your artificial hand. I always think of two hooks.

            – I could wear those, too.

            – You’re going to look wonderful with two hooks, Dennis. There’s something about you which hooks will really fit in with.

            – Thank you, Ray. That’s good of you to say so. We’ll see tomorrow. And of course, I’m having my legs casted tomorrow as well so now we can more or less work out how long it’ll be before I walk out of here. I’m betting on the twenty-fifth.

            – Yeah, I think that’s about right.

            – So remember tomorrow, I might still be covered in plaster if you get here this early and you’d have to sit around waiting.

            – Well, I’ll drop in anyway and if you’re still plastered up, I’ll go into Uxbridge for some shopping.

            – What do you want to buy?

            – Just groceries, really. I saw a pamphlet in the waiting room once which said there’s an orthopaedic shop on Vine Street. I haven’t been able to find it again but I might drive down there and see if I can find the shop. They might stock stump socks and other things. Oh, I know what I’ll do tomorrow. I’ll go home from Southall and phone your workplace and ask for John Stapleton. Arrange to meet him or his secretary on Friday afternoon or Saturday morning. Someone will be there then, won’t there?

            – Should be. That’s a good idea. Yes, forget Uxbridge. Wait at home until about five thirty. Well, you can remember yourself how long it takes to do stump casts, can’t you?  Come when you think I’ll be ready.

            – Yes, alright. I’ll do that. I expect Dr Young will be giving you tips about how to use your hooks most of the afternoon. You’ll be practising with children’s wooden blocks until you could scream. Make him show you how to use a knife and fork. And tell him you have to be able to use a screwdriver. He’ll say sorry, you can’t. Tell him you must.

            – Who have you been talking to?  You know a lot about hooks all of a sudden.

            – I was talking to Mr Patterson at work. He’s been telling me all sorts of things about using hooks. He said it would be useful information for when you come home. I already know how to change your hooks and put on the rubber bands.

            – Oh, well in that case. I suppose he knows what he’s talking about. But he uses full-length artificial arms, doesn’t he?

            – Yes, he has about four inch stumps at his shoulders, he said. The thing is, Dennis, your stumps are very short. Mr Patterson – and Peter too – said your new arms are going to work as if you had very high amputations.

            – Well, we’ll have to see. Patterson drives a car, doesn’t he? 

            – Yes. He has a Morris Minor.

            – And if he can handle a car, I will too. Just watch me!

 

Ray left Dennis at the end of visiting time. It was almost dark outside. Evenings arrived noticeably later as spring approached. Ray drove home and made some sandwiches for supper. He changed his leg and peg for stump boots and spent the rest of the evening washing laundry in the bath tub.

 

Wednesday afternoon was busy for Ray. The Hanwell siding had much more traffic than usual, both deliveries and collections. There were two other signalmen on shift at the same time but they had agreed among themselves that as long as Ray was still learning, he could operate the signal levers in order to gain more experience. Ray had a good understanding of the local layout and rarely found it necessary to refer to the schematic of lines, although he did so before every action to be certain. Patterson kept a close eye on him, fascinated by the unique legwork Ray had adopted in order to move the heavy brass equipment. Ray appeared perfectly ordinary lately unless you noticed he had only one foot. But there was nothing ordinary about the way he walked. The rhythmic beat of his wooden peg on the wooden floorboards was as distinctive an indication of his presence as the rich aroma of pipe tobacco was that Robert was around.

 

He drove home after his shift to make some phone calls. He had written some notes of the things he wanted to explain to Dennis’s employer and read them through before placing the call. Marjorie McCall, Stapleton’s secretary answered.

            – Stapleton Decor, how may I help you?

            – Hello. My name is Ray Martin and I am calling on behalf of Dennis Wilson.

            – Oh yes?  How is Dennis these days?

            – He’s doing very well, thank you. He’s getting his new hooks tomorrow.

            – Sorry, he’s getting what?

            – His hooks. Artificial arms.

Marjorie had not heard about the extent of Dennis’s disablement. She thought Dennis had had pneumonia.

            – Oh!  Good lord!  I had no idea. So he’s lost his hands?

            – Yes. And his feet.

            – Oh, for heaven’s sake!  I had no idea at all. What a dreadful thing to happen.

            – Yes, but he’s doing fine and wants to come back to work as soon as possible. So what I wanted to explain is that he can have an invalid carriage, you know, one of those little blue cars. I’ve just got mine, last weekend.

            – Oh good heavens, are you disabled too?

            – Well, I suppose I am.

            – You sound very young, if I may say so, er, Ray.

            – I’m sixteen. Anyway, what I wanted to ask is if it might be possible for Mr Stapleton to sign the application form for an invalid carriage for Dennis so he can get to work more easily. They need the employer’s signature, you see.

            – Yes, I expect so. Mr Stapleton will make the final decision, of course. Where do we get these application papers from?

            – Oh, I have them here, all filled out except they need one more signature and then I can post them to the Invacar people. I was wondering if Mr Stapleton would be at Stapleton’s Decor on Friday afternoon. I could bring the application in, you see.

Ray was starting to feel a little confused. This conversation was not going according to his script.

            – Yes, I see now. Please excuse me, Ray, I am quite shocked by what you told me. Well, we close at five. Mr Stapleton often leaves before that time on a Friday afternoon but I can tell him that you’re coming and I’m sure he won’t mind waiting a little while longer for you.

            – That would be very kind of you, thank you. I expect I can be there some time around four o’clock. I have to come from Southall, you see.

            – Yes, I see. Well, Ray, thank you for calling. I will explain to Mr Stapleton in the morning and I expect we shall see each other on Friday at about four.

            – Yes. Thank you very much. Bye bye.

He hung up and felt silly for saying Bye bye. That’s not how people talked to secretaries on the telephone. What did they say?  Thank you for calling. But he had called her. He sniggered and dialled the work number for David Lewis.

            – Brent Water, Dave Lewis speaking.

            – Hello, Mr Lewis. This is Raymond Martin.

            – Good afternoon, Mr Martin.

            – Do you remember, you helped me get the papers for my invalid carriage?

            – Oh, of course I do!  Hello Ray. How are you doing?

            – I’m fine, thank you. I got my Invacar last Saturday and I just wanted to let you know.

            – Well, that’s super news, Ray. Congratulations. Have you driven it much?

            – Well, quite a bit. I went to my friends last Saturday and I go to work in it to Southall and then to Hillingdon Hospital to see my friend who has lost his legs too.

            – Good grief!  What on earth happened to him?

            – He had… I can never remember the word… meningitis, that’s it. He had meningitis and his hands and feet turned black so they had to amputate them.

            – That’s awful. I’m very sorry to hear that. Is he better now?

            – Oh yes. He’s getting his hooks tomorrow and they’re doing the casts for his legs. And on Friday I’m getting the last signature I need on the application papers for Dennis and then we’ll both have Invacars parked outside our flat.

            – Do you live together, then?

            – Yes, we share his flat in West Ealing. Dennis let me move in after I had to move from Acton.

            – It all sounds most extraordinary. Two young amputees living together sharing a flat. Well, you’ll be able to help each other, won’t you?  It sounds like a good idea, actually.

            – Yes, I’m sure we’ll be able to manage quite well. Mr Lewis, that’s all I wanted to say, really. I wanted to let you know that I have my car now and to say thank you for your help.

            – Don’t mention it, Ray. I’m happy to help and I hope your friend does well with his new limbs.

            – Thank you. I’ll tell him. Good bye, Mr Lewis.

That sounded better. Good bye. That’s what he would always say. He looked at his watch and decided to make a cup of coffee before going to Hillingdon. Dennis would be practising with his new arms by now, probably.

 

Dennis had been practising with them for two hours. Dr Young had casted Dennis’s leg stumps first.

            – Dr Young?  May I have a pair of stump boots too, please?

            – Let’s see. Bend your knee for me. Hmm. Yes, I think you could fit those into a pair of boots. What do you need them for, may I ask?

            – Well, my friend has a pair and he says they’re really comfortable. He changes into his boots when he takes his legs off after he gets home.

Young knew of only one other young person for whom he had made stump boots recently. He struggled to remember the boy’s name.

            – What’s the name of your friend, Dennis?

            – Ray Wilson.

            – Yes, of course. And you know Ray?

            – We share my flat in West Ealing.

Young stopped what he was doing and looked agape at Dennis.

            – You and Ray live together?  Good heavens above!  I had no idea you knew each other. Well, I’m sure Ray will be able to give you lots of advice on using your legs. Yours will be the same style as what Ray has, with thigh corsets. Well I never!  How on earth did you meet, if I may ask?

            – He fell on top of me on a tube train. It was on that bouncy part after Shepherd’s Bush. I was annoyed at first but he said sorry, that he had wooden legs and then he sat down next to me and we talked. I was asking all kinds of personal questions which I shouldn’t have but Ray explained everything that had happened to him and by the time we needed to get off, we were the best of friends.

            – And you were then a full-limbed healthy young man, I assume?

            – Yes, of course. After a few weeks, Ray said he had to move and I invited him to live with me. And then I fell ill and here we are. Ray got an invalid carriage last weekend and is over the moon with it.

            – Well, I’m delighted to hear that he’s doing so well. They say it’s a small world, don’t they?  Alright, since you have Raymond’s recommendation, I will put in an application for stump boots for you, but it has to be approved first, you understand?  In spite of that, I will take the casts needed today. I’m afraid you’re going to have to hang in that contraption for at least another couple of hours.

            – I don’t mind. I wasn’t going anywhere.

 

Young took casts both for Dennis’s artificial legs and his future stump boots, approval pending.

            – What would you like your legs to look like, Dennis?  Unfortunately the wooden legs which Ray managed to get are no longer available. Prosthetic limbs are now being manufactured only from aluminium and a plastic resin.

            – I’d like my legs to be aluminium but left unpainted. Just the metal finish. I want my artificial legs to look artificial. And the thigh corsets should be black leather, if at all possible.

            – Unusual choices, Dennis, but eminently possible. Aluminium is a perfect material for prosthetic limbs being both light and durable.

            – And I’d like something like it for my arms, if that’s possible. I want the sockets to be black with black leather cuffs. I mean the upper bits.

            – Black sockets?  I never heard of such a thing. Are you sure?  But I’m afraid it’s a little late for that, Dennis. Your arms are already waiting for you but they are flesh coloured. The cuffs are a light brown leather.

            – Oh well, drat!  Maybe I could paint them myself.

            – Yes, you could. It wouldn’t hurt them if you are careful. Black sockets!  Heavens above, they would look dreadful! 

            – Well, I might give it a go with some black enamel.

            – Extraordinary. Now hold out your other leg and bend your knee ninety degrees.

 

Young fashioned two more casts for Dennis’s stump boots and lowered the young man back onto a bench.

            – I’ll wash your legs to get rid of the plaster residue and then we can try out your arms to see how they fit.

He filled a bowl with warm water and tended to Dennis’s leg stumps, ensuring no plaster remained in the crevices around the incisions. He pressed the stumps dry with a towel and crossed to his storeroom.

            – Here they are, Dennis. Your new pair of arms. I have attached the hand and Hosmer Five since you won’t be working for a while yet. You will have to unscrew the terminal devices first and then replace them with the working hooks if you need to.

He put the prostheses onto a table, lifted Dennis into his wheelchair and pushed him to sit in front of his new arms.

            – Well, Dennis. You will be using prostheses like these every day for the rest of your life and it will be difficult at first. The more you practise, the more skilful you will become. The hooks have certain limitations which I will explain later. These are tools which you need to learn to use. They will not do what you want them to unless you know how to use them. Do you understand what I am telling you?

            – Yes, I do. You make a good comparison with the tools I use in my work. The fact that you own them does not mean that you will get the desired results.

            – Exactly. I am very pleased that you understand. First of all, we need to get the prostheses on your stumps. Make sure they’re the right way round. Slip your left arm into this socket. Now the right. Now you need to get the harness over your head and across your shoulders so lift your arms up and duck your head down to get the harness over.

 

Dennis struggled for a few seconds before the canvas strapping dropped into place.

            – If you shrug your shoulders now, the harness will settle in a more comfortable position. It needs to be tight but not too tight, if that makes any sense. How does it feel?

            – Fine. Very strange but it’s alright.

            – Good. I’m going to tighten these buckles on the cuffs. Now stretch out your left arm for me. That is one way of opening the hook. Try it again.

Dennis had a big grin on his face as he operated a split hook for the first time.

            – Can you keep it open for me?  I want to check the cable tension.

Young tested tension around the hook’s thumb and at the upper cuff. He checked the steel ring was in the centre of Dennis’s back.

            – Thank you. Try stretching the right arm.

The index and middle fingers closed as one to meet the immovable thumb. The ring and pinkie fingers were similarly immovable. The hand was made of several riveted pieces of stamped metal and painted a uniform colour resembling north European skin. The movable fingers stayed pressed against the thumb.

            – To open the fingers, you need to put tension on the cable again. Try it. Stretch your arm out.

The index and middle fingers sprang open.

            – Very good. The hand works in a different manner from the hook. You see the hook is closed when at rest. You apply tension to open it and it closes automatically. The hand is open when at rest and you apply tension to close it and again to reopen it. The technical term is voluntary opening for the hook and voluntary closing for the hand. If you change the hand for your right work hook, it will operate as voluntary opening. All the hooks you have been supplied with work the same way.

 

Dennis looked at his unnatural new hand and tried closing the fingers. He noticed they stayed in place when he released tension. He could close the fingers bit by bit until they closed on the thumb. The next time the fingers jumped open all the way.

            – There is another way of operating the terminal devices and it’s why your harness needs to be quite tight-fitting. Can you lift your left arm up?  Hold it there in place without stretching and shrug your right shoulder forward as if you were nudging someone. You see, the hook opens. Try it again. Very good. The hand works in the same way. Lift it up and keep your arm in the same position. Now shrug your left shoulder.

The fingers closed against the thumb and stayed put.

            – Shrug again to open the fingers. It requires a little more effort than closing them. Well, Dennis, that’s all there is to it. You now know how to operate your prostheses. Next you have to become so accustomed to using them that you can operate them without needing to think about the process. I have some simple objects here I want you to practise with. Let’s try the blocks first.

 

Sixteen wooden blocks sat in a wooden frame. Young tipped them onto the table and placed the frame in front of Dennis.

            – Replace the blocks, please, Dennis.

Dennis looked at Dr Young as if he were a madman. He looked at his hand. The gap between the fingers and thumb was too small to fit one of the blocks in so he would have to use the hook on his left arm. But it was pointed to the right. He opened it and tried picking up a block. He succeeded only in moving it around on the table top. Young watched Dennis’s face.

            – Having trouble, Dennis?

            – Well, yeah. How can I pick the cube up?  I can’t get the hook underneath it.

            – You can reposition the hook so it points down. Then the fingers will open in such a way that you will be able to grip the blocks from above. Now, it’s fairly stiff for a reason. You don’t want the hook twisting around freely when you lift something but you have to be able to reposition it somehow. If you are in a kitchen, for example, you can open a drawer half an inch, put the hook in the gap and force the fingers around. Or you could do it in the jamb of an open door. Anywhere which will hold the fingers in place while you move the socket. If you had a hand, you would use it to twist the hook around, of course. But let us not dwell on what ifs.

Dennis looked around and at his wheelchair for something which would hold the fingers.

            – One thing, Dennis. When you get your artificial legs, you will sometimes be able to use the steel bracing along the thighs to do this job. You don’t seem to have anything available to help you at the moment, Dennis. Why don’t you try using one of those drawers over there?

            – You mean I have to wheel myself all the way over there and back just to pick up a wooden block?

            – It looks that way, Dennis. Don’t worry. I’ll push you. I don’t expect you to wheel yourself with your arm prostheses at this stage.

He pushed Dennis across the room to a counter-top with drawers under it.

            – Open a drawer a little and put the hook in the gap.

Dennis tried. He managed to open the drawer on his second attempt.

            – You need the fingers to point down so you have to twist around to your left.

            – It’s hard. I can’t twist my arm.

            – No Dennis, you can’t. The elbow brace and hinge prevent you from merely rotating your forearm. You need to move from your shoulders. Use your body.

Dennis shuffled his buttocks to change his sitting position and found a suitable angle. He moved his shoulder and the hook rotated clockwise to point downwards.

            – Well done, Dennis. Let’s go back and you can continue with the blocks.

            – All that effort to pick up wooden blocks!

            – Yes indeed. You must do what you need to do. You use the things you have available to get things done. Do you realise you could have used the frame for the blocks on the edge of the table to do the same thing?

            – Oh yes!  Why didn’t I think of that?

            – Because you are learning, Dennis, and new to this. And I am not going to make things easy. You have lost your hands but you have not lost your imagination or initiative. Use them.

 

Dennis grunted an acknowledgement and concentrated on using the unfeeling fingers of his steel hook to nudge the blocks into the correct position for the hook. He had to shrug his right shoulder to open it. It moved away from the block if he stretched his arm. After the fifth block, Dennis got the hang of it. A few minutes later, he sat looking at a neat frame full of wooden cubes.

            – Very nice. Well done. Now I am going to return you to the ward with your new arms and I hope you will practise using them. We will meet again tomorrow for some more rehab. You’re doing well. I think you completed that block exercise in record time.

 

Young wheeled Dennis back to Ward Four and a nurse shortly assisted him back onto his bed. Dennis sat pondering his new arms. He opened the hook a few times and rearranged his bed cover with it. He had a glass of water on the cupboard next to him. He tried picking it up and succeeded in bringing the glass to his lips. He was unable to tilt the glass unless he lifted his entire arm from the shoulder. It was awkward but if that was the way it had to be done, that was the way it would be. He put the glass down carefully. He looked at the artificial hand. It might work well enough for holding a pencil or a knife but it was hardly a workhorse. It was lucky he had a right hook too. Maybe Ray could change it for him. What would the hand look like with a leather glove on it?  It might look rather sinister. He would have to try it.

 

Ray breezed in and Dennis raised his metal hand and waved.

            – Hello Dennis. Congratulations!  How do you feel having hands again? 

            – It’s like trying to use pliers at the end of a stick but otherwise it’s alright. I haven’t actually had anything to do. I drank some water a minute ago using my hook.

            – Show me how the hand works. It looks very artificial, doesn’t it?

            – Yes. I was wondering if I should put a leather glove over it.

            – It might be a good idea. You’d probably be able to get a better grip too.

            – Yes, you’re right. This is a bit shiny and slippery. So what have you been up to today?

            – Oh, the usual except it was busy. Lots of traffic. They kept me on my toes.

            – Tomorrow’s your big day, Ray. Are you looking forward to it? 

            – Yes, I am in a way. I think I’ll feel more sure of myself to know I have a permanent job. And I’ll be getting a much bigger wage.

            – How much?  Do you know?

            – Twelve pounds seven and six a week.

            – Really?  That’s good.

            – Yes, it is. It will be nice to have some extra money in my pocket. Not having to be so careful counting the pennies all the time. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I’m taking your Invacar papers to Mr Stapleton on Friday afternoon. I phoned his secretary and she said he would wait for me instead of leaving early.

            – That’s nice of him. He likes to go off golfing when he has the chance.

            – So anyway, your application will be in next week and I think you should have your car by the end of the month.

            – Just in time for April Fool’s Day. I hope I have my legs by then. I’m getting fed up with that wheelchair.

            – Have you tried using it with your arms yet?

            – No.

            – Shall we give it a try?

            – Alright. Bring it closer, will you?

Dennis transferred to the wheelchair seat and appreciated his new arms for making the task easier. He was unable to use the hand rims but ran his hook and hand along the rubber tyres and pushed himself into motion.

            – Hurrah!  I’m doing it!  Let’s go to the waiting room.

Dennis found he could propel the wheels with his sockets and maintained a slow and steady speed.

            – This isn’t so bad. I hate having to be pushed around by someone else. That’s even worse than being in a wheelchair in the first place.

            – Have you heard anything about when you might be discharged?

            – No. I still have some rehab coming up next week for my hooks.

            – But you could do that as an out-patient.

            – I suppose so. It would be awkward coming from home in a wheelchair though, wouldn’t it?

            – Yes, it would. Maybe they’ll keep you in until you get your legs.

            – Another three weeks. I wish it didn’t take so long.

            – So do I. Look on the bright side. It’ll give you time to learn how to use your hooks before you have to concentrate on walking again.

            – Do you think about walking?

            – Yes, of course. All the time. Don’t forget my feet can’t feel anything. I don’t know what I’m walking on unless I can see it. I have to look out for slopes and broken pavement slabs and kerbs. I never stop concentrating on walking when I’m out.

            – I never realised.

            – It’s going to be quite an adventure, Dennis. You have lots of new things to learn. And it’ll be worth it in the end. That’s the best part. Being a normal man again but with four artificial limbs.

            – Yeah. You’re right. Quite an adventure.

 

Dennis handed Ray the Invacar application papers which Dr Young had signed earlier. Just one more signature. It would be fun when they were both out and about in their little cars. They would be more mobile than other people their age who were not disabled. Ray said good bye to Dennis and left him with a copy of The Evening Standard which someone had forgotten in the waiting room.

 

Next morning, Ray chose his big billiard to smoke. He sat in his car filling it with Navy Cut and got it drawing nicely. He was an impressive sight for other drivers who glanced across at him when stopped at a red light. A young man in an invalid carriage with a huge pipe in his jaw. Several men watched him enviously and decided they too wanted to take up a pipe. Ray pulled up beside his workplace and pegged inside. Robert was in the kitchen.

            – Hi Ray!  I heard today’s the day. Are you looking forward to it?

            – Well, I don’t really know what to expect. We’re not going to have a party are we?  I can’t go into a pub or go dancing.

            – You could dance if you wanted to but no, we won't be going dancing. I suppose we shall just have to wait and see, won’t we?  Want a cuppa?

            – Yes please.

            – How’s Dennis?

            –He got his arms yesterday. He has a hook on the left and a metal hand on the right. The arms are pink and Dennis doesn’t like them. He says he’s going to paint them black.

            – Ha!  That would look amazing. He’s in rehab, I suppose.

            – Yes, he has some lessons today and some next week.

            – Well, it’s good he’s getting a little bit of practice in before he’s discharged. How do you feel about having Dennis at home?  You know things are going to be difficult for him, don’t you?  He might be frustrated and angry for a while. Just remember it’s not you he’s angry at.

            – No, I understand that. I don’t mind helping him but Dennis is the sort of person who doesn’t like to ask.

            – Well, we’ll just have to see how it goes. Remember you can always call us if things seem a bit out of control.

            – Yes, I know. Thank you, Robert.

Ray went upstairs and collected the day’s rota. Patterson was waiting for him, chatting to two of his colleagues,

            – Morning, Ray. Anything special today?

Ray looked at the rota carefully.

            – No, I don’t think so. It doesn’t look like it.

The others laughed quietly among themselves.

Patterson supervised Ray throughout the morning. Ray mentioned that Dennis had received his artificial arms the previous day and was in rehab.

            – I dare say he was feeling pretty confused by them, wasn’t he?  They’re not the easiest things in the world to use.

He shrugged his right shoulder to raise his forearm.

            – The main problem I still have is positioning a hook so it can grab things. What I’ve had made is a set of wooden blocks, cubes, which have half inch grooves etched into them in a union jack pattern, if you see what I mean. They’re screwed onto the doors in all the rooms in my house. If my hook is at the wrong angle, I go to one of my cubes, put my hook into it and twist my body to force the wrist into the position I want.

            – I see. What a good idea!  I’ll have to tell Dennis about that. I bet he’ll want to make his own cubes at work.

            – I dare say. I don’t expect we shall meet very often after today, Raymond, but I would like to give you and Dennis my telephone number so you can call me if you think I might be able to help with advice on the hooks. There aren’t many of us double arm amputees and most of us have some trick up our sleeves which we use to make life easier.

            – Thank you very much, Mr Patterson. I’ll get a pencil.

Patterson recited his telephone number.

            – You can call any time between eight and eight. Don’t be shy about calling, either.

 

The morning turned into afternoon. There was more traffic around midday which Ray handled. Patterson watched him with admiration. What a very good lad. Such determination to continue despite his dreadful maiming. He could never have guessed Ray had deliberately caused his lower legs to be severed because he wanted to have wooden legs.

 

At two o’clock, three cars pulled up outside. They had travelled in convoy from HQ. Donald Lewis had brought two of his colleagues to meet Raymond Martin, a determined apprentice signalman who persevered despite losing both legs last autumn. One had brought a flash camera to record the event, which would be reported in the next monthly staff magazine. The shift manager welcomed the newcomers and escorted them upstairs where they stood next to the bank of signal levers watching Ray discuss some matter with one of his workmates. Ray turned and pegged halfway back to his usual position and noticed Mr Lewis beaming at him from the end of the room. He stopped, guessing now his moment had come. Lewis spoke up.

 

            – Gentlemen, if I may have your attention please. First of all, I want to say that I am sorry this moment cannot be celebrated in a finer fashion but needs must. Work must go on. To ensure our work does go on, we need enthusiastic young signalmen to carry on the trade. I am very proud to announce that our young colleague Mr Raymond Martin has concluded his apprenticeship with flying colours and I welcome him into the family of professionally qualified signalmen. Well done, Raymond. Come and collect your certificate.

 

One of the gentlemen standing beside Lewis handed him a large envelope. Lewis extracted its contents, a parchment certificate confirming Ray’s completion of his apprenticeship and transition to permanent signalman. Lewis smiled at Ray as he handed him the paper. Everyone applauded.

            – It is unusual for us on occasions such as this to present a token of appreciation to a successful new employee but I want to offer something in recognition of your effort and admirable determination to continue after your setback.

The other gentleman revealed a walking stick he had held behind his back and Lewis took it.

            – On behalf of the company, I would like to present you with this ebony and silver walking stick and I hope you will find it useful for many years. Congratulations, Raymond. Well done, my lad.

Lewis shook Ray’s hand, and his companions stepped forward to do likewise. Lewis handed Ray the inch thick black walking stick with its silver Derby handle. It was prestigious and very comfortable to hold.

            – Thank you very much, sir. This is beautiful.

A bell sounded and Ray looked around to see if anyone had reacted.

            – Don’t worry about that, Raymond. Now your apprenticeship is over, there is nothing more for you to do here this week. Please take the rest of today and tomorrow off and come back on Monday as a fully-fledged signalman.

            – Oh, you mean I can go home now?  Thank you very much.

He shook hands again with Lewis. Lewis glanced at Patterson and signalled with his eyebrows. Patterson moved towards the group, shrugged his right arm horizontal and shook Ray’s hand with his hook.

            – Well done, Ray. Keep it up. Remember what I told you.

            – Yes, sir. Thank you for everything.

The four men departed and his colleagues congratulated him.

            – Off you go then, Ray. No point in hanging about if you’ve got the rest of the day off. See you on Monday, mate.

Ray smiled at them and descended the stairs with his certificate and new walking stick. It was the nicest one he had ever seen. He put his jacket on, stepped out to his Invacar and drove home, smoking with the huge pipe between his teeth, his peg leg jutting straight ahead.

 

He brewed some coffee and refilled his pipe. A surprise day off. What could he do with it?  He was still working out his plan which was inspired by Dennis’s book of woodworking. He ought to write some of his ideas down so he did not forget them. Ray had no conception of what a business plan was. He simply wanted to get some ideas on paper in case Stapleton Decor refused to employ a quadruple amputee. Mr Patterson’s wooden cube for twisting his hooks around was one good idea he wanted to show Dennis. He made a few sketches in his old school art book. He paid attention to shading to make them look more realistic. He thought they looked quite good. They were superb renditions. Ray had a talent for art and design which had barely begun to develop. He had left school too early for his arts and crafts teacher to spot his promise. In an alternate life, Ray might have been encouraged to pursue a career as an industrial designer. Instead, he was pleased to be a professional signalman with a peg leg who smoked a big pipe. He relit it.

 

Dennis had been in rehab since ten thirty.

            – How did you get on yesterday evening, Dennis? 

            – Well, I can use these to hold a newspaper and turn the pages but the hand is sort of difficult to control.

            – Yes, I agree. Voluntary closing hooks and hands need more effort. There is always the extra movement required to open it, compared with a normal hook.

            – Yes, I’ve noticed. Dr Young, would it be possible to swap the hand for another hook?

            – Another Hosmer Five, you mean?  I really shouldn’t. You’re supposed to leave the hospital with the equipment you ordered and signed for. But in your case, and knowing how dependent you are on functioning arms for your work, I will make an exception. Would you like the same kind of hook on the right as you are now wearing on the left?

            – Yes, that’s exactly the sort of thing I mean.

            – I have to admit, I think you are making the right decision. You already have two work hooks waiting for you. I think it is better for you to have four terminal devices which all function in the same way, voluntary opening. Wait a moment. You can use my demonstration Hosmer Five. I will order another one. Those artificial hands are more or less intended for people who don’t need to use them for work, Dennis. In your line of work, you’re going to need two sturdy hooks.

            – That’s what I thought. Well, I’m glad you’ll let me change it. I can probably do more with two hooks.

            – I’m sure you will. Let’s get to work. I’ll fetch the second hook and we’ll start.

 

Dennis held out his right socket as Dr Young unscrewed the disappointing metal hand and replaced it with a steel Hosmer Five hook. Now Dennis had a pair. It looked better, having two matching hooks. The hand looked artificial and was next to useless. He immediately felt more capable. He opened the new hook a couple of times. Much better.

            – Dr Young?  I’m sure there are some more exercises like yesterday’s wooden blocks but can we practise the things I need to do?

            – What sort of things did you have in mind, Dennis?

            – Well, I need to use a knife and fork, don’t I?  And I would like to be able to use woodworking tools again if I am ever to go back to work. How would I use a screwdriver, for example?  And things like opening a jar or a bottle. You know, everyday things.

            – Yes, I see what you mean. Alright, let’s try a knife and fork. Are you comfortable with that right hook?  You know how to use it?  Open both of them for me. Good. Now the right. Now the left. Good work, Dennis. You’re a quick learner.

Young opened a drawer and took out some cutlery. He brought a couple of glasses, a cup and a mug to the table where they sat.

            – Have a look at these knives and forks. Some of them are difficult to pick up with a hook. You can see which ones they are. Try picking this one up. It’s quite flat. Difficult, isn’t it?  But do you remember what I said yesterday about imagination? 

Dennis looked at Young as if to discern what he was hinting at.

            – Oh yes, of course!

Dennis pressed the blade of the knife against the table and the handle rose a few degrees, enough to let Ray grip the handle in his other hook.

            – Well done. Now you can move the knife from one hook to the other until it’s in the position you need.

            – I’m going to have to alter the angle of the fingers on the right hook.

            – Yes, that’s right. Fortunately you have a different set up from yesterday. Think, Dennis.

Dennis opened his right hook and let the knife drop. He gripped his left hook with the right and pushed his right shoulder forward. The right hook rotated. He altered his grip and repeated the movement. The hook pointed down.

            – Very good. Next time you pick the knife up, place the end of the handle further up over the hinge of the fingers. So when you cut your food, the knife won’t go flying and you’ll be able to apply pressure to the blade. Do you see?

            – Yes. It’s a bit awkward, isn’t it?

            – Dennis, you have been doing this for approximately half a minute. I promise you that by summer, you won’t even need to think about how to use cutlery. But put that knife down. Try this one. A traditional Chippendale design. You see how the middle part of the handle is practically cylindrical?  Try it.

It was easy enough to pick up but almost impossible to grip firmly. The points of contact were far too small.

            – You could use a knife like that if you grip the top of the blade, you see.

            – Yes, let’s see if I can… get it into… place. There!  Yes, I could cut with this.

            – So buy yourself some cutlery which you are comfortable using. And if you are invited to a dinner party, take your knife and fork along in case your hostess has laid the table with something fancy but useless. Let’s try some glassware.

 

Dennis practised picking up glasses of various shapes. Wine glasses nestled very nicely in his upturned steel fingers. Tall cylindrical shapes were the best.

            – If you let your hostess know beforehand about this problem, she can make sure that your place is set with the glassware you can handle. Try picking up the teacup. It won’t work, Dennis. You would need so much pressure to hold a cup of liquid by the tiny handle that you would probably be unable to open the hook. So get rid of your fancy teacups!

            – We only have mugs in our house.

            – Good show. Yes, anything like a mug which has straight sides is going to be easy to pick up, assuming it isn't too large. Now, what else?  Opening jars. Well, you know that’s difficult for most people at the best of times. The best way to loosen a lid is to puncture it. You have no rotational movement available to you so you will never be able to twist open a lid but there are openers which grip a lid and you can push their handles to open the jar. The same goes for anything with a screw cap. You may be pleased to hear that your hooks are excellent tools for opening beer bottles.

            – Oh good. I’ll be popular at parties.

            – You will. What else were you wondering about?  Oh yes, tools. Well, Dennis, anything that needs to be pushed or pulled or poked should present no problem after a bit of practice. I am thinking about planing a piece of wood. You will be able to open and close a vice. A conventional hammer will present problems because of the shape of its handle – not enough contact area. You mentioned a screwdriver. I’m afraid, Dennis, that it’s out of the question. You not only have insufficient grip, you also have next to no rotational movement. You may be able to use an automatic screwdriver which rotates its tip for you by pushing its handle. You should be able to use a wrench, probably using both hooks simultaneously. Did you have any particular job in mind which you would like advice on?

            – Ha!  Yes, I do. I am going to get an invalid carriage at the end of the month and I want to tune its engine so it does more than thirty.

            – I don’t think you’re supposed to do that, Dennis. But thinking back to my own younger days when a group of friends and I did something very similar with motorbikes, I believe that you will be able to perform all the necessary actions to tune an engine except for manipulating screws. And that is the last word I have to say on that matter.

 

Young had much to say about other matters relating to using a pair of hooks. He explained and demonstrated how to turn a door key in a lock. Dennis tried and succeeded after a few attempts. How to lace a pair of shoes and tie a knot. The knot was loose and uneven but it was good enough. Finally he handed Dennis his pen.

            – This is the most difficult thing you need to master, Dennis. It is not only the wrong shape for your hook, writing calls for delicate pressure and fine control. You used to write with your fingers and thumb. Now you have to use your elbow and shoulder instead. I suggest you start with the same exercises you did when you first learned to write. Draw long lines, then loops and zigzags – do you remember?  You could use a carpenter’s pencil. I am certain you have a few of those. It’s shape is very well suited to your hook. I have seen beautiful penmanship produced by arm amputees so I know it is quite possible, Dennis. Practice makes perfect, as they say. It’s up to you.

            – I’ll practise. I feel much better now with two hooks. Thank you for letting me swap.

            – It’s alright, Dennis. We try to provide people with the tools they need to continue their lives.

            – Can I ask about my legs? 

            –Oh, I have some very good news about those. The workshop informs me that they already had a suitable pair of lower legs left over from another case which weren’t needed. They need new feet because yours were size ten. I don’t suppose you’d want size eight feet, would you?

            – Would it make much difference?

            – You’d be less likely to trip. Anyway, as soon as the upper edges are moulded to fit you, the legs will be here for me to make the thigh corsets. And you will have them about five days after that. I took delivery of some very smart black leather yesterday which I am going to use for your corsets.

            – So I’ll probably be able to stay here in Hillingdon until I get my legs instead of being discharged first in a wheelchair.

            – Yes, Dennis. It has been taken into account by the powers that be. They realise the practicality of the rehabilitation process and you will be leaving here with all four of your artificial limbs.

            – Do you think I will need crutches or walking sticks?  How will I be able to hold them with my hooks?

            – You have been thinking ahead, haven’t you?  Walking sticks are problematic because of the usual reason - not enough contact area. As far as crutches are concerned, the crossbars can be thickened by wrapping rope or twine around them to provide a larger surface. In your case, I would recommend crutches although I am sure you will soon be walking unassisted.

            – That’s what I’ll do, then.

            – Very good. Shall we call it a day, Dennis?  You can go back to the ward and practise writing, for example.

            – Yes, that’s what I’m going to do. It would be good to be able to write well with a hook. It’s not what people expect.

            – They certainly do not. Well, good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll talk about dressing yourself.

 

Ray’s breakfast began with a bowlful of Navy Cut. He opened a window to let the fug out. He planned his day – Stapleton’s, home, lunch, shopping, Hillingdon. He needed to fill his tank again too. He spread his new map out and sought the best way to get to Dennis’s workplace. He’d have to use the North Circular from Hanger Lane. It would probably be alright outside rush hour. He decided to wear both wooden legs today. It would look more appropriate than his stump boots when he was out and about and he did not anticipate needing his peg leg. And he was already wearing them.

 

Ray waited until ten o’clock before making his way downstairs to his car. Two wooden legs felt a little insecure after weeks of using a peg leg on his right stump so he took two walking sticks with him. He had already stuffed his nosewarmer with tobacco and lit it before moving off.

 

He found Stapleton’s and revved his engine to get over the incline leading to their yard. He looked around and saw the office building. He drove over slowly and parked outside the door. Marjorie McCall watched him and guessed who he was, although she had not expected him this early in the day. Ray took the Invacar application in his left hand and a walking stick in the other and went inside.

            – Hello!  You must be Raymond. We weren’t expecting you until later.

            – No, well, I got the day off so I’m here now. I hope that’s alright.

            – Yes, of course it is.

Marjorie remembered that the good-looking boy in front of her was an invalid.

            – Won’t you sit down, please?

She left her desk and went across to where Ray was sitting beside the window.

            – Are these the papers you’d like Mr Stapleton to sign?  Can you show me where his signature goes?  Page eight. Jolly good. Well, I’m afraid he’s in a meeting right now but it’s coming up to lunchtime so I expect they’ll be finishing up soon. If you don’t mind waiting, Mr Patterson might even sign straight away when he comes out.

            – I can wait a bit. I don’t mind.

            – Raymond, how is Dennis?  Is he going to be able to come back to work?  I was so shocked to hear that he had lost limbs. It was meningitis, you say?  I thought he had pneumonia, you see. I had no idea he… oh, it’s such a shame.

            – Don’t worry, Miss McCall. He’ll get legs like mine in a week or two and he’s already practising with his hooks.

            – Legs like yours – what do you mean?

            – I have wooden legs. Dennis’s are going to be made of aluminium instead but he’ll be able to walk around like he did before, so that’s not a problem. The thing is, will Mr Patterson let him come back when he has metal hooks instead of hands?  There are a few things he can’t do but most things he will be able to do just like before.

            – What a terrible shame. Well, we were expecting him to come back to work, you see. We didn’t know that he had lost his hands. I expect Mr Patterson will keep an eye on him to see how he manages. And if everything goes well, he’ll have completed his apprenticeship shortly and will be eligible for a permanent position.

            – Just like me yesterday. I am now a professional signalman. I got my certificate yesterday.

            – That’s wonderful. Congratulations.

            – And they gave me the day off which is why I’m here now.

There was a hubbub from deeper in the building followed by masculine laughter. Four grey suited gentlemen arrived in the lobby and Marjorie raised a pointed finger.

            – Mr Stapleton, the papers we expected this afternoon have arrived already. Would you like to take a look and sign them now?

Stapleton glanced at the teenager sitting by the window with a walking stick between his legs and put two and two together.

            – Is this for Dennis’s invalid carriage? 

Ray nodded and Marjorie said that it was. Stapleton looked quickly at the first couple of paragraphs and turned to the back page. Below the signature of a doctor was an empty line for his own signature. He took out a fat fountain pen from his jacket pocket and signed.

            – I want that boy back here as soon as possible. It doesn’t matter if he can’t do this or that, he has ideas which we can use. Just imagine, the boy fell ill with something or other and lost his hands and feet. Best young bloke we’ve had bar none. Right. Marjorie love, we’ll be in the Red Lion for lunch and I expect I’ll be back around two. It was nice meeting you, young man. Tell Dennis we miss him.

 

The gentlemen left and Marjorie checked the ink had dried before handing the papers back to Ray. She had a thought.

            – Do you have an envelope for these, Raymond?

            – No, not really.

            – Would you like me to post them this afternoon?

            – That would be very good of you, thank you very much.

            – It did sound very promising, didn’t it?  ‘I want that boy back here’. Tell Dennis that we’re looking forward to seeing him again.

            – I will. Thank you, Miss McCall.

Ray swaggered back to his Invacar and returned to West Ealing via a convenient petrol station.

 

He had a few hours left before he visited Dennis. For fun, he doffed his wooden legs and put on both peg legs. Their bed was high enough to let Ray push himself upright and, with a walking stick in his hand, he was able to peg around the flat with no trouble. If he could negotiate the steps down from the front door to the street, he could wear his pegs to visit Dennis. On second thought, maybe one would be enough. And he still had to buy some provisions. He replaced the left peg with his wooden leg again, went into the kitchen to pick up a string bag, put his jacket on and walked to the local Co-op.

 

He was back in Hillingdon for the start of visiting hours. The receptionist checked a timetable.

            – I’m afraid Dennis is still with Dr Young, Ray. I expect they’ll soon be finished for today.

            – It’s alright. I’ll wait here. Oh, I remember what I was going to ask. Do you know if there a orthopaedic shop in Vine Street?

            – Yes, there is. Number forty-eight, if I remember correctly.

            – And would they sell things like stump socks?

            – Yes, they do. That’s where most of our patients buy that sort of thing. They sell walking sticks and spare ferrules which you might need.

            – That’s good. I’ll have to drop in to see. I’ve been going to Tottenham Court Road for stump socks.

            – Oh dear. That’s a bit far, isn’t it?

            – It is a bit.

Dennis wheeled into the waiting room.

            – There you are!  Hi Ray.

            – Hallo Dennis. Have you only just finished rehab?        

            – Yup. Been at it all day. I’ve taken my shirt off and put it on again about fifty times. I’ve been using a gizmo with a loop to do the buttons up. We have to practise trousers after I get my legs.

            – You’ll have to practise doing up the laces on your thigh corsets.

            – I know. So what have you been up to today?

            – I took the application to Stapleton’s and met Miss McCall. She thought you had pneumonia. She didn’t know you had lost your hands and feet.  And Mr Stapleton came and signed the papers and said ‘I want that boy back here’.

            – Really?

            – Yes. He said you have good ideas.

            – Well, that’s nice to know.

            – And after that, I went shopping and had soup for lunch.

            – Good show.

            – How do you like your double hooks?  Is it better than the hand?

            – Yeah. Having two is handier, excuse the pun. I can have the fingers on one side pointing up or down and the other side pointing in so I don’t need to twist them around so often. I just change hands. Change sides, I mean. Sorry, I can’t stop talking about my hooks as hands.

            – Well, they are your hands now. They look really smart. I knew you would look good wearing hooks. They suit you somehow.

            – Wait until you see me with my new legs in shorts.

            – You’ll look wonderful.

            – Oh Ray – if you go to the shops, will you buy a couple of half inch paintbrushes and a small tin of gloss black enamel paint?  And some turpentine.

            – Yes alright. I can guess what for.

            – Ha!  Imagine how these sockets would look if they were black and shiny. Instead of trying to look like flesh.

            – Why not paint them with metallic paint to match your legs?

            – Oh yeah!  Shall I?  Yes, let’s try that first!  I can always repaint them if they don’t look very good. Matching legs and arm sockets!  So forget the black enamel, get aluminium metallic instead. Have you got some money?

            – Yes, my invalid benefit will have arrived today. I’ll pick it up tomorrow. Where is there a do-it-yourself store?

            – Isn’t there one in Southall Broadway near Woolworth’s?  Have a look next time you go past.

            – I will. Is there anything else you can think of you might need? 

            – See if you can find some drinking glasses with straight sides. Ours are all slanted, aren’t they?  It makes picking them up with hooks much easier. And I want one of the doodads I was using today to do up buttons. No idea what the proper name is. Oh, and get some self-adhesive hooks for the bathroom. Two is enough. I can hang my arms on them.

            – Hooks, paint, brushes, glasses and doodad. Right. I’ll get them before you come home. Except the doodad. You’ll have to use my fingers until you get one of them.

 

An hour or so later, Ray pushed Dennis back to the ward and said goodbye. He drove through the dusk, keeping an eye out along Southall Broadway for the do-it-yourself place and spotted it easily. He visited it on Saturday morning and found the supplies Dennis had asked for. There were lots of metallic paints he had never heard of. Gold and silver, aluminium, copper. He found a set of four plain, straight sided glasses in Woolworth’s and bought them. He walked past a shoe shop and noticed a display of Dr Marten’s AirWear boots. It looked like the soles were soft. They might make walking on his wooden legs a little more comfortable. He went inside.

            – Hello. I’d like to try on a pair of those Dr Marten’s boots, please. Size nine.

            – Certainly sir. Sit down please, and I’ll fetch a pair.

The young shop assistant went to the back of the shop and pulled a box from a large stack of boots.

            – Try these for size.

            – Er, could you help me, please? 

            –  Yes, of course. What would you like me to help with?

            – Well, if you could take my shoe off and put the boot on. I don’t think I can manage at the moment.

The assistant looked at Ray and pulled the laces on Ray’s left shoe open. He gripped Ray’s ankle and froze.

            – Oh!  I wasn’t expecting that.

            – Sorry, I should have warned you.

            – It’s alright. I’ve seen artificial legs before.

He slid the boot onto Ray’s wooden foot and quickly fed the yellow laces up the boot.

            – Tell me if this is too tight.

            – Ha! 

            – Do you need help with the other foot too?

            – Yes please.

            – Oh god, you have two! 

He saw to the laces again and tied a neat bow.

            – Would you like a hand getting up?  Hold on.

Ray took the proffered arm and stood. He waddled over to a mirror and looked at his smart new boots. He lifted his trouser cuffs to see how high they came. He might be able to wear the boots without socks. Of course he would.

            – Just a moment while I try walking.

The shop assistant stood back and watched Ray’s rigid feet as he took a few steps back and forth.

            – I don’t know if they are comfortable or not but I’d like to keep them on. Can you wrap my old shoes, please?

            – Yes sir. Do you need the box?

            – No thanks.

            – That’s one pound nineteen and elevenpence please, sir. Thank you.

Ray handed over four ten shilling notes and waited a moment for his change. He checked he had all his other purchases and said goodbye. The assistant watched his legs with interest. Ray walked to his car parked on a side road and thought his new boots were a little less jarring than his shoes. He was rather pleased with his purchase. The soles were soft enough to wear at home and they would be great for work too. He might buy another pair in size ten for Dennis as a welcome home present. He got into his invalid carriage and drove home for lunch. He was going to have welsh rarebit with ketchup.

 

Dennis was in rehab. Dr Young presented him with a hundred piece jigsaw printed on plywood. It made a picture of a teddy bear when completed and was recommended for ages five to nine. And for older bilateral arm amputees who needed to learn dexterity. Young had not yet mentioned it to Dennis but he had received the lower sections of Dennis’s prosthetic legs in the morning’s delivery from Roehampton and was working on their bracing and thigh sockets. The right leg was nearly complete except for riveting. He could keep an eye on Dennis’s progress with his hooks while making progress of his own on Dennis’s next challenge, his ‘tin’ legs. Young had been pleasantly surprised at their appearance. The legs were conical but for a bulge to represent calf muscles and they terminated in featureless wooden feet. Most unusually, the aluminium had been highly polished rather than painted in a skin tone and looked spectacular. The black leather of the sockets emphasized the gleaming metal. Dennis would be proud of his new legs, he was sure.

            – How are you doing?  Oh, not at all badly, by the looks. You seem to have got the knack of passing the pieces from hook to hook to rotate them. I’ll leave you to finish that. You’re not bored with it, are you? 

            – No, I can feel myself becoming used to opening the hooks at the right moment.

            – Yes, we refer to it as muscle memory. You’re becoming used to performing a new action. Your body is learning the movements it needs to make until after a while you won’t need to consciously plan them. You’ll just know. Well, carry on, Dennis. I have another kind of game for you coming up next. Are you hungry, by the way?

            – No, not just yet.

            – Let me know and I’ll order some sandwiches.

 

They took a break when Dennis completed the jigsaw.

            – Well done, Dennis. You managed that in good time. Shall we go to the staff canteen instead of eating here?  I don’t suppose you’ve been there before.

            – No, I haven’t.

            – It’s on the first floor.

Dennis followed Dr Young into the depths of the building and arrived at a goods lift. Young pulled the gate open and Dennis wheeled in.

            – Let’s see what they have on offer today.

Another convoluted route brought them to the canteen. It was not intended for patients but the staff occasionally brought people such as Dennis who were not ill when it was more convenient to do so.

            – Ah, fish and chips!  Looks like plaice. Shall we have that?  Or would you prefer sausage and mash?

            – I would kill for a plate of fish and chips.           

            – Well, we don’t need to go to such extremes. Two plaice and chips, please. And two teas.

            – Let’s sit over there. Easy access.

Cutlery was available on the tables, wrapped in paper napkins.

            – Are you going to use a knife and fork or will you use a hook for the chips?  Do whichever you feel comfortable with. I certainly shan’t mind.

            – I’ll try using a fork to cut the fish. It doesn’t need a knife.

            – Very true.

Dennis picked up a knife and fork and pushed the fork around so its tines pointed towards him. He pressed them with one hook so the handle rose and grabbed the fork with the other. He tested whether it would reach his mouth without letting the food fall. It looked like it might work.

            – You’ve soon picked that trick up, Dennis. Well done.

            – Mmm. Let’s see how it works. Dr Young, can we try the other hooks later on?  I want to see how to change them.

            – Yes, we can take a look this afternoon. It’s a little awkward because you have to unscrew a hook while not wearing it, of course. I would recommend that you bow to the inevitable and ask Raymond to do it for you unless you absolutely have to do it yourself. Ah!  Here comes our food.

            – Two plaice and chips, gentlemen.

            – Thank you, Bea.

            – And mushy peas.

Young started eating and watched Dennis chop the battered plaice into several pieces with the fork. The piece he tried to pick up fell off the fork on the first and second attempts.

            – It would be handy if you had something to glue the fish to your fork with, wouldn’t it, Dennis?

Dennis looked up at him smiling and down at his plate.

            – Oh!   The peas.

            – Give it a try.

Dennis scooped up some of the green mush and tried spearing the piece of fish again. This time it stuck.

            – Use your other hook to push food onto the fork, Dennis. No-one expects you to adhere to etiquette. Don’t let your food get cold.

Dennis picked up a chip. The hook crushed it but it stayed in one piece and tasted very good. They soon finished their meals and Young signalled for their cups of tea.

            – Do you want to attempt drinking from a cup? 

            – It won’t be easy.

            – No, it won’t. I’ll ask for a tall glass. You should be able to manage that.

Bea brought their tea and then a glass.

            – Work out the best angle to pick the glass up first, Dennis, and then I’ll pour some tea in.  Do you want sugar?

Dennis tried the glass and twisted his right hook slightly by holding onto the other. Now he could tilt the glass better. Young poured half the liquid into the glass and Dennis drank. He needed to crane his neck and tilt his shoulder to an odd angle but there was no spillage and Young tipped the rest of the tea into Dennis’s glass.

            – That went very well, I think. You should wipe your hooks on something. They’re a little greasy. But if you’re ready, let’s get back to work and I’ll show you how to change your hooks.

They returned to the workshop by the same confusing route. Young took a pair of work hooks from a drawer and brought them over to where Dennis sat at the table.

            – Now, to change hooks, the first thing is to remove the cable. It is very tight thanks to the rubber grommet just here. See it?  If you are going to be changing the hooks quite often, I suggest removing it. It’s not necessary and only makes things more difficult.

            – Can you take it off, then?  I think I’ll change my hooks at least once a day. I need the big ones for work and the smaller ones at home.

            – Yes, the work hooks have a vicious bite and tend to scratch things very easily. I’ll snip the grommets off.

He took out his penknife and sawed gently through the tiny rubber band. It flew off onto the floor.

            – Now open the hook, please, and keep it open.

Young dislodged the cable’s retainer ball from the hook and let the cable dangle.

            – The next part is the second most difficult. You need to unscrew the hook. You can do it the same way as you alter the angle of the fingers – in a drawer, for example. But to save time, let me do it for you.

He gripped the socket in one hand and the hook in the other and unscrewed it. There was almost an inch of sturdy screw holding the hook onto the socket. He picked up one of the work hooks and inspected it.

            – You can tell left from right by looking at which way the fingers point when the thumb – this bit – points up. If they point to the right, it’s a left side hook. And vice versa.

            – So left is right and right is left?

            – Exactly. Haha!  Now we come to the most frustrating part. You have to get the new hook screwed into the socket. It is difficult for a two handed man to find the start of the thread at the best of times. I suggest you practise this when you have an afternoon free. Or ask Raymond to do it for you. It might become your evening ritual. Sit with your elbows on a table and the hooks in front of you. Raymond changes your hooks and you’re good to go. Same thing in the morning before leaving for work. Oh, and if for some reason you leave home with your smaller hooks, take the others with you anyway. I’m sure you could show one of your workmates what needs to be done to change them.

            – Yes, I can imagine that it might become quite a familiar ritual for Ray and me.

            – Anyway, let me try this. Round and round it goes. Where on earth does the thread begin?  Ah!  Got it. Right. Now the hook needs to be opened again so the cable can be reattached. You can’t do it yourself, obviously, unless you force the hook into something to spread the fingers apart.

Young took hold of the work hook and pulled it open with both hands. Using his left hand to keep them open, he quickly reattached the cable and gingerly released the finger.

            – That’s the first one. Test the hook, Dennis. Good. Now for the other one. Open wide.

Young followed the same procedure and had more luck replacing the work hook.

            – Try it, Dennis. Do they feel balanced?  Same effort for both hooks? 

            – Yes, but these feel more resistant than the other hooks.

            – That’s because these have four rubber bands on at the moment. The others have only three. You can add as many as you like for a stronger grip but the more you put on, the harder it is to open the hook and it can get very tiring after a couple of hours. I think four is a good compromise for your work hooks.

            – Well, let’s see. The next exercise is another child’s game but good practice for you. You are going to do some weaving. Let me find the thing.

He rummaged in a cupboard and brought out two long strips of wood stuck a couple of inches apart along a wooden base. There were a dozen one inch diameter holes drilled along each strip. A red cord ending in a short blunt wooden needle was attached to the base.

            – Your job is to thread the cord all the way along. In one side and out the other. It’s a bit like lacing your shoes.  Off you go. I’ll be over there. I have something I need to work on. Call me when you’ve finished.

Dennis twisted the toy so the strips pointed ahead of him. He grasped the needle and worked it about until it pointed left and pushed it into the first hole. It was not quite long enough to go through the opposite hole. He would have to hold it from above when it was halfway through and alter his grip. This was not going to be easy. And then the other hook was in the wrong position and needed rotating. And now the other one was as well.

            – Aargh!

            – Problems, Dennis?  Keep at it. You’ve already done two holes. Patience. Things take longer now.

Dennis found the logic needed for the job. Grip right hook holding needle with left and rotate. Grip left hook holding needle with right and rotate. Repeat. Twenty minutes later he was done and his work hooks had acquired a few scratches.

            – Ready!

            – You must be joking!  That takes at least an hour. By golly, you’ve done it!  Dennis, I am tremendously impressed. Well, let’s take a break. Come and watch what I’m doing. It might be quite interesting for you.

Dennis wheeled over to the work bench and saw chrome leg braces and expanses of cream and black leather.

            – What are you making?

            – Can’t you guess?  This is going to be your thigh socket. I need to sew the leather together and fit it to the brace. Then I’ll add the brass eyelets for the laces and a buckle or two. I think two. Your stumps are quite short. Then I’ll rivet the struts to the lower leg and you’ll have your first tin leg.

            – What about the elastic at the front?  Raymond told me to ask about that specially.

            – We’ve taken that into account at the limb makers. We adopted a very easy solution. Simply adding a spring mechanism to the knee joint. These legs will work like Raymond’s but they won’t need the strap across the knee. How is Raymond getting on, by the way?

            – He’s fine. He wears a peg leg at work but he changes into his stump boots at home.

            – So most of the time, he isn’t wearing both wooden legs?

            – No. I think he prefers a peg on the right.

            – How extraordinary.

            – He quite often goes out shopping like that. I think he looks very… impressive.

            – Is that what you meant to say?  Don’t you think he looks masculine and mature?

            – Er, yes. He does.

            – And you have a special liking for Raymond, don’t you, Dennis?  Be careful, dear boy. Raymond is still legally a minor.

            – I know.

            – You see, I understand these feelings. I recently lost my own special friend. He was a double amputee. He wore an above knee peg leg which I made for him, a new one every year, and he used a hook on his below elbow stump.

            – What happened?

            – He died. He had a stroke in February. Couldn’t be saved. So now, instead of helping him, I concentrate on helping you. People like you, like my friend.

            – I’m sorry, Dr Young.

            – Oh, don’t be, Dennis. We almost lost you. That would have been a very sad loss. Not only for Raymond. You have a lot of promise.

            – Well, thank you for saying that, Dr Young.

            – Don’t mention it. I need to take this to the riveting machine. Stay here.

Young riveted a row of brass eyelets along the edges of the thigh socket, twelve each side. He changed the tool and fitted two straps with buckles to the inner half and two straps with perforations to the outer half.

            – There!  This is ready. All we need to do now is attach the braces to the lower legs. You haven’t seen them yet. They were delivered yesterday morning from Roehampton.

            – Can I see them? 

            – Well, I wanted them to be a surprise. Childish, really. I’ll get them.

He crossed to the stockroom and reappeared carrying a lower leg in each hand.

            – Oh!  They look super! 

            – I think they look very smart. You made the right choice. The pink paint they usually use is such a dreadful colour. It fools no-one. Did you know they used to paint these yellow?

            – Really?  That’s like adding insult to injury.

            – Ha!  Yes, it is. Are you still interested to watch?  I have at least a couple of hour’s work yet.

            – It’s fine. It’s interesting to watch. I’m really looking forward to wearing them.

            – Yes, I can guess that. Now for some heavy duty riveting. Don’t follow. It’s dangerous.

 

Young busied himself with a steel tape measure, calipers, a small T-square and a wax pencil. He rechecked his measurements and clamped the thigh socket to the aluminium leg. He checked both were for the same leg. He moved the limb onto a curved anvil beneath a drill and made several holes along the aluminium socket. The next step involved attaching steel rivets to hold the components together. He checked the interior of the leg was completely free of any sharp protrusions and stood the limb on the floor to await its mate.

            – Dennis, do you want to put this on now? Or shall we wait until the other one is ready?

            – I want to try it on now, please.

            – I thought you might. Just a moment and I’ll bring you some stump socks. You know all about those, don’t you?

            – Yes, I’ve seen Ray dressing himself. I should have some thigh sleeves too.

            – Yes, but I don’t have any. You’ll have to try it without. Here you are.

 

Young continued his work and within the hour, Dennis had his second artificial leg. He donned a couple of stump socks and fitted his stump into the leg. The laces took a couple of minutes and he was able to lace the thigh socket tightly onto his leg. Young checked his handiwork.

            – Very good. I’ll bring you your shoes.

He made another return trip to his stockroom.

            – I’ll put them on your feet. Can you lower your legs a little? Right, Dennis. You’re now as you will be. A handsome man on two artificial legs wearing two artificial arms. I think you look magnificent. Now let’s get you walking. Wheel yourself over to the parallel bars.

 

Dennis knew from what Ray had told him what to expect. Without being directed, he grasped the bars as best he could and rose to his feet for the first time in five weeks. His work hooks gripped the bars as he found his centre of balance. He tried standing more erect. That helped. As his libido returned after his illness, he felt the stirrings of an erection. He looked at his reflection in a full-length mirror beyond the end of the bars and appraised himself. He had more artificial limbs than he might have chosen for himself but he was captivated with the figure facing him. His new legs were remarkable. His hooks looked impressive. Meet the new Dennis Wilson. A man to be reckoned with.

            – Wait a moment, Dennis. I’ll fetch you some crutches. Alright, try these for length. Are they tight up against your armpits? They’re not supposed to be. Let’s see the crossbar. Lower your hooks. Yes, I need to adjust these.

Young unscrewed some tiny nuts and forced the crutch open. He adjusted the crossbar’s position and returned the crutches to Dennis.

            – This feels better. I can keep my arms straight.

            – Good. That’s exactly what you need. Move the left crutch tip forward. Now step forward with your right leg. And right crutch, and left leg. Very good.

Young gave Dennis instruction for twenty minutes. Dennis already knew what to expect. He knew how to use crutches. Only his hooks on the crossbars were new to him. He would do as Young had suggested and wrap rope around the handles to provide a better grip. Dennis was walking successfully with crutches, if somewhat stiff legged.

            – Dennis, we’ll continue this tomorrow. I want to see you walking without crutches before I sign your discharge papers.

            – Can I go back to the ward like this?

            – No, sorry. You may keep the legs but I want you in a wheelchair for the time being.

Young suspected that Dennis would attempt walking around Ward Four anyway.

            – I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye and thank you.

Dennis wheeled himself back to the ward and parked his chair next to his bed. Several patients noticed his new tin legs and watched with interest. Dennis transferred to sit on his bed and looked at his long black leather thigh corsets. He could lift his lower leg slightly but there was little leverage available. His stumps were simply too short, just like Ray’s. He glanced around checking if there were any staff members present. The coast was clear. Dennis pushed himself to his feet and grasped the handles on the back of his wheelchair for support. He leant to the left and moved his right leg forward. He pushed the wheelchair into motion and succeeded in reaching near normal walking speed. His heels struck the floor with each step as he had just been taught and his knees felt supportive. A walking stick would be handy but they were difficult to grasp with a hook. Maybe he could design something which a hook could get a good grip on.

            – Dennis! You’re not supposed to be doing that. Come back right now!

            – Sorry, nurse.

Dennis spun the wheelchair around and lowered himself into it. He pushed the tyres with his arm sockets and rolled over to his bed.

            – I didn’t know you were getting your legs today.

            – I think Dr Young made an early start on them.

            – I see. Well, try to keep to the official schedule, Dennis.

            – Sorry.

            – In spite of that, I am very pleased to see you walking so well already. But hold your horses, alright?

            – Yes, nurse.

She smiled at him and continued her business. Dennis moved onto his bed again and started removing his artificial legs. He pulled the buckles open easily enough and started on the lacing. Once the knot was pulled open, the laces were easy to loosen by pulling them with the tip of a hook. The steel bracing around the knee joint provided good purchase for pulling the legs off his thighs. He picked each leg up and stood them beside his bed. It was a surreal sight. He settled back and dozed.

 

Ray arrived shortly after the start of visiting hours. Dennis was awake again and in his wheelchair.

            – Hi Ray!  Come and see what I’ve got. There you are. How do you like them?

            – Oh, they look great! How have you got them so soon? I thought it would be several more days.

            – So did I. Dr Young made them a priority, I suppose. You know what this means, don’t you?  I’ll be able to come home very soon. They’ll probably discharge me on Monday, I reckon.

            – How are you going to get home? It’s too far for you to walk to the bus stop. I’ll be at work. Otherwise you could ride in my car on the floor behind my seat.

            – Ha! You know you’re not supposed to carry another person, don’t you?

            – Yes, I know. But if you can wait until about half past four, I can smuggle you home.

            – Alright. I’ll wait. I don’t think I want to walk to the Uxbridge Road.

            – So how are you getting on with them?

            – I was using crutches with Dr Young but he said he doesn’t want me walking yet. I’m supposed to stay in the wheelchair. But I did have a stroll around the ward until the nurse told me off. I don’t think she really minded.

            – Are the legs comfortable?

            – Yes. They feel strange. I’ve never had anything clamped onto my thighs before.

            – No. You’ll soon get used to it. Can you do up the laces?

            – Only very slowly.

            – I’ll do it until you get the hang of your hooks. I don’t want you to be frustrated by things like that. Oh, how do you like my new boots? I bought them this morning.

            – They look smart. Nice and shiny.

            – I can wear them without socks. I don’t have to keep checking if my socks have fallen down.

            – I think I’ll get a pair too.

            – I got your paint and things too.

            – Oh good!  Thanks. That’s the first job after I get home. It’ll take me a couple of days, won’t it? I’ll have to let the paint dry on one before I can paint the other.

            – Yes. You’ll be one-armed for a couple of days. Is it easy to remove the arms from the harness?

            – I’ve no idea. I suppose there must be a way. See if you can work out how they’re attached.

Dennis turned to his left and Ray traced the strap which led to the harness ring. There was a buckle close to it.

            – I think I can see how to get them off.

            – Good show.

            – If you’re coming home soon, I‘d better get some more food in. What would you like to eat?

            – A big plate of sausage and mash with an egg on top.

            – Well, I think I can manage that.

They chatted about both of them returning to work. Dennis expected to be back at the end of the month, preferably with his own Invacar. Ray would return as a full-time professional signalman in two days.

 

Ray’s parents were extremely pleased for their son having completed his apprenticeship successfully. They were delighted to hear that Dennis would soon be home.

            – You should see his legs, dad! They’re like two mirrors.

            – I suppose I could give mine a bit of a polish at work since that’s what I do all day anyway. Not that anyone would ever see it.

 

On Monday morning, Ray arrived at work in good time and swapped banter with his colleagues in the kitchen. He had expected some comment about it being his first day of real work but no-one mentioned it. He supposed he had transitioned from being exceptional to being ordinary. That was alright. He ought not expect any special consideration from now on. That was the way it was.

 

Dennis was still wearing his work hooks. Dr Young collected him and nine thirty to continue his rehab.

            – I’m glad you’re wearing those, Dennis. I wanted to show you some of the features on the work hooks. I don’t suppose you’ve had to do any heavy lifting yet, have you?

They sat at the table in his workshop and Young demonstrated how the work hooks would hold a knife securely and pointed out the slots and holes which could grip screwdrivers or paintbrushes.

            – Oh, I didn’t realise that hole was there! That’s clever.

            – Alright. Now, word has it that you were found walking around the ward on Saturday afternoon. I thought you might. You’re supposed to be in a wheelchair until you’ve had enough rehab to strengthen your remaining leg muscles. But in spite of that, how were the legs?

            – They seem to be fine once I build up some momentum. It feels like they are very securely attached. The rim of the aluminium supports my kneecaps.

            – Is there any pressure there?

            – A little, only because of a snug fit, I think. It’s not like my weight is on it.

            – That’s good. It shows the thigh corsets are fitting properly. And were the knees supportive at all times?

            – Yes, they were. I know the problems which Ray had with his knees at first and he’s given me plenty of warnings to be careful but I didn’t have any problems.

            – I’m very pleased to hear it. I think you are already several days ahead of the usual rehab programme, Dennis. Let’s have another session now until lunchtime and if we’re both satisfied, I’ll sign your discharge papers and you can go home with Ray this evening.

            – That would be great! Thank you.

            – But first you have to do some work. Wheel yourself over to the bars and stand up and we’ll get started. I want to see you walking on crutches first.

            – Do you have any rope or cord to wrap around the crossbar? I could grip better if it was thicker.

            – Yes, that’s a good idea. I probably have some. I’ll see.

He looked around but could see no cord. There was however a large reel of electrician’s tape.

            – No cord but let’s try some of this.

He wound several layers of tape around the crossbar and it thickened by about a quarter of an inch.

            – Try this. Any better?

            – Yes, I think so. The hook doesn’t slip.

            – Good. I’ll do the other one too. You remember the best way to use the crutches, don’t you? Left crutch and right leg, right crutch and left leg. Remember to keep your legs straight when you lean over them. Right, here you are. You’re ready to go.

Dennis adjusted the crutches to a comfortable position and checked his hooks were aligned on the crossbars. He moved forward slowly until he found his rhythm. He reached the end of the bars and turned. On returning, he continued walking into the room past the end of the bars. Young watched his gait carefully. Dennis’s steps were even and he was placing his heels correctly. Dennis turned and came back. He looked at Young and raised his eyebrows.

            – Very good, Dennis. Do you feel up to trying without the crutches?

            – Yes, I do.

            – Give them to me. I’m going to hold onto your arm at first in case you’re unsteady. Ready?  Let’s go.

Dennis leaned slightly to the left, swung his left arm forward and took a step with his right leg. He rocked himself to the right and stepped forward on his left leg. Once again, he found a rhythm and walked a little stiffly to the door and stopped.

            – Very good. Let’s go back. Next time you can try it unassisted.

Dennis rocked himself around and his polished aluminium legs flashed under the lights as he found his rhythm. Young loosened his grip.

            – Walk around the bars, Dennis. Don’t stop.

He used his artificial arms to keep his balance and turned gently to pass the bars and gripped the end of one to pull himself around to face the room. He crossed to the door and stopped.

            – Let’s try some steps now. Come over here, please. Hold on to the handrail and put the heel of your right leg on the first step.

Young explained the same technique he had taught Ray several months previously. Ray had the advantage of his own hands to pull himself forward. It was far more difficult for Dennis. His hooks slipped on the handrails. He altered the position of his hooks and tried again. He was able to lift his left leg onto the step. He tried the process again, keeping his hooks closer to his body. It was a little easier but he felt uncomfortable pressure on his elbows and stumps. Stairs like this were obviously going to present a problem.

            – Luckily the steps outside my front door have railings each side. Ray pulls himself up by them and they might work for me.

            – I certainly hope so, Raymond. It looks like you are going to have severe problems on normal staircases. Try the next step up then you can turn and come down. Down is always easier.

            – That’s good to know. I’m going to have to practise walking up stairs, it seems. Luckily it’s something I can do at home in the hallway.

            – Yes, you have another two weeks before you need to return to work, don’t you? Try to get some practice in every day. Walk a few hundred yards. How is your writing skill coming along?

            – I’ve given up on cursive but my block letters are fairly legible. Uneven but legible.

            – You’ll improve with time. Well Dennis, I am a little worried about your performance on the stairs but otherwise I am prepared to sign your discharge papers today. You will have until noon tomorrow before we need the bed. How does that sound to you?

            – It sounds wonderful. Thank you very much for everything.

            – Please don’t mention it. I will telephone you when your stump boots arrive and you can come to collect them. Good bye, Dennis. Do take care.

 

Dennis wheeled back to his bed and began emptying his cupboard of his meagre possessions. He asked a nurse if she could find a carrier bag for his things. There was one in reception which she brought him. On the top, Dennis placed his Hosmer Five steel hooks. Ray could change them for him when they got home. He wanted to avoid wearing the work hooks at home, scratching the furniture and everything else.

 

The head nurse arrived to congratulate him on his discharge and for confirmation that he would be leaving later the same day. She wished him well and departed. All that remained now was to wait for Ray to arrive. How to spend the time? He could go for a walk in the grounds. He stood, collected his crutches and went along the corridor to the door to the gardens. It was an overcast day but dry. Good enough. Dennis pushed the door open and stepped carefully outside. He worked his way around the circular flowerbed, still devoid of greenery and followed the long straight pathway which Ray had walked up and down on a single peg leg months previously. Dennis felt he could manage walking on flat surfaces even without his crutches. He left them leaning against the wall by the door and struck out again, trying to walk as evenly as possible, balancing himself with his arms. He imagined himself standing in Stapleton’s workshop for nine hours on his tin legs. Would he be able to? Would his stumps with the nearly useless knees be able to stand the punishment?  He could make himself a tall stool he could sit on or lean against. That might work if his legs began to ache. With his mind otherwise occupied, his stride had found its natural pace and he was using his artificial legs to their optimal effect. He felt a wave of new confidence when he realised. He was going to be alright on his tin legs. He circled the flowerbed one more time, collected his crutches and went back to the ward.

 

Ray drove straight to Hillingdon as soon as his shift ended. He wanted to know how Dennis’s rehab was going. The sooner the doctor was satisfied, the sooner Dennis would be home. He parked his Invacar and stumped into the waiting room on his wooden leg and peg.

            – Hello Raymond. Go right in. I think Dennis has some news for you.

Ray waved an acknowledgement and pushed through to the ward. Dennis was sitting fully dressed on his bed reading a discarded evening paper, a carrier bag at the end of his bed. Ray guessed the situation immediately.

            – You’re being discharged? Come on, then! Before they change their minds.

            – Ray, shall I take my wheelchair?

            – Well, do you want it? We already have one anyway. If one of our legs breaks, we don’t need to resort to a wheelchair. We have stump boots and peg legs we can use. I don’t think you need take that one. If you want one, there are nicer ones you can buy.

            – Alright, I’ll leave it here. I’m bringing the crutches, though. We might both need to be on crutches at some time and I can use the wood to make peg legs, too. I just remembered– will you change my hooks, please? I want the smaller ones when I’m at home.

            – Hold your arm out. And open the hook.

            – How was your first day as a full-timer?

            – It was funny. No-one even mentioned it. I’m just one of the ordinary crew now. I don’t know whether I should feel special or not. How are we going to get you into the car? Can you fit in wearing your legs? You’ll have to sit on the floor and keep your head down, you know that, don’t you? Other arm, please.

            – I could stretch my legs out beside your seat but I’ll have to crawl in somehow.

            – I hope we don’t get caught.

            – It says in the regulations that you’re not supposed to carry passengers. But it doesn’t say what will happen if Mr Plod sees us.

            – He won’t see us if you keep your head down. Are you ready? We should tell the nurse you’re leaving and that they can keep their old wheelchair.

            – Yeah, we should. Let’s wait a few minutes until she comes back.

            – Get your crutches. I’ll carry them if you want.

            – Yeah, take them please. What have we got for supper?

            – I’ve got fried cod roe on toast. I don’t know what you’re having.

The nurse reappeared carrying a pink artificial leg.

            – Thank heavens I don’t have one of those. Nurse! Yes, well, I’m ready to leave now. Thank you for everything. I’m not taking the wheelchair because we already have one at home, you see. My friend here is disabled.

            – Ha!

            – Alright, Dennis. It’s been a pleasure seeing you recover so quickly and I hope we can meet again in better circumstances. Sign your discharge papers before you go. They’re at reception. Well, goodbye.

Dennis pushed himself upright and made sure he had everything. He had the carrier bag, Ray the crutches. Ray turned and called out a facetious farewell to his fellow patients and they made their exit. Dennis stopped in reception to explain he was leaving following his discharge and was handed his discharge papers for signing. The receptionist held a pen ready for Dennis until he had adjusted his right hook to a suitable angle. He took it and put his left hook across the paper to keep it in place. He put pen to paper and created his new signature.

            – Thank you, Dennis. See you again sometime.

            – Yes, goodbye. Thank you.

 

Ray slid the door of his car open and leant the crutches against the door.

            – Give me the bag. You have to get on the floor somehow.

Dennis leaned in and rested his right hook on the seat. He made sure his knees were rigid and allowed himself to fall into the car. He scrabbled against the floor with his hooks trying to work his way into the back section. Finally, he asked Ray to arrange his legs.

            – I’m going to have to put the crutches on top of you.

            – It’s alright.

Ray put the carrier bag on top of them and swung in to the driver’s seat.

            – Are you ok for twenty minutes?

            – Yes, I suppose so. The left cable is pressing into my shoulder but it can’t be helped. Let’s get going.

            – Here we go. Hold tight.

Ray started his little car and reversed out of his parking spot. He turned and the car trundled along to the Uxbridge Road. It was still light and the setting sun lit the road in front with a rosy glow. It looked almost beautiful and with his peg leg poking out before him, his best ever friend now limbless in the back of his own little car, Ray felt happier than he had ever been.

 

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