37 - O Come All Ye Faithful!

Len lays down his tools on the work bench and turns on the light. He fires up the Calorgas heater and spreads out the pizza box. The biro hasn’t worked too well on the greasy spots, but he can still make out his design. He pulls a large crate of materials from under the bench. On top is a folded white sheet, a clothes-peg still attached at one corner, which he lays carefully on the bench. Next is a child’s back-pack in the shape of a lamb which he rescued from a bin in Blythe Lane. It’s a bit raggy but it will look fine in the dark, lit only by a small Camp-a-lamp. “Ah!” Len smiles. “Now then!” He takes the two prosthetic legs, props them against the wall and admires them for a few moments. They’ll look quite realistic once he’s dressed the whole thing with the sheet.

Next he lays the polystyrene head on the bench. He takes a few strands of copper wire and presses them into the scalp. Yes, that will work nicely, Len nods to himself, for the hair and the beard. He turns on the radio. Christmas carols. Perfect. He rummages around a bit more and pulls out his fawn cardigan. It’s the one he accidentally set fire to in a late night smoking incident, he had to douse it with Heinekin, then the zip rusted shut, so he doesn’t wear it much these days anyway. He gazes at it for a moment, and considers how he’ll attach the water filled rubber gloves to the cuffs. Staple them perhaps? Len scratches his bottom. What else?

He bites his lower lip and looks back to his drawing. Yes, some foliage from the Marbury’s garden can be wound into a thorny corona, but what about the blood?! Len sucks his teeth and looks around him. Browsing through the old pots of paint on the shelf above his bench, he finds half a can of rust red primer. He shakes it to check if it’s still in liquid form. It is, and a quick test with a ten pence piece reveals that the lid is still willing to come off. Well, that’s about it. He’ll draw the face in with a fat felt-tip. Coat-hangers will hold it all together, and the handle from a broken hoe he found in the vegetable patch will keep it upright. He considers using a blob of vaseline to suggest a single tear rolling down one cheek, but doesn’t want to gild the Lily. The main thing now will be the timing.