“It’s like a mummy,” Tom said. “It’s like a mummy, Mummy!”
“Yes, darling. But stop bouncing about and hold the legs still.”
Tom giggled again while his mother wound tape round the legs.
“Mummy, can’t we give him a proper face?” Tom asked, reaching for the bin sack around the head. His hand was slapped away.
“Open the door for me, darling, and help me carry him.”
Outside, Tom swore that the guy twitched.
“It’s the flames playing tricks. Don’t be silly.”
“Okay,” Tom replied. “I wish Daddy could be here.”
The guy burned and mother and son watched in silence.
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