(I seem to be on a bit of a roll today but this really is it for tonight!)

“What do you want us to do with the heads?” Mollie asked Mrs O’Sullivan during a lull in proceedings and they stood chatting about how the day was going, the plans for Mollie’s own roasting the following weekend and life in general, both hungrily enjoying their grilled Lydia in a bun. “After the party, I mean?”

“Did I hear you say something about donating hair?” the kindly older lady asked, wiping a crumb from the corner of her mouth and brushing more from the front of her blouse, happy to have caught the drips of meat grease and smokey barbecue sauce on her plate. “What’s that all about?”

“There’s a charity we’ve partnered with.” Mollie explained with a smile. “So many of the girls we cook have really pretty hair. Sometimes the families or people who have bought them want to keep it and that’s fine but if it’s just going to go to waste, we donate it to this charity that makes wigs for sick people, kids mostly,” she smiled, “you know, the ones who have lost their hair from cancer treatment or for any reason really, to help their confidence and self-esteem.”

“What a lovely idea!” Mrs O’Sullivan exclaimed. “Oh do please do that with those three.” She looked over at her granddaughter’s severed heads, all smiling blissfully on their spikes. “I was thinking I might take the skulls home, lets the birds and ants and anyone else who wants to have a nibble eat away the flesh then I can make a feature of them on my rockery.”

“That sounds great!” Mollie grinned. “I’m sure they’d be happy about that!”

“The young lady you provided really is delicious!” Mollie’s sweet client congratulated her. “Do pass on my compliments to her family if you see them!”

“I certainly will!” Mollie assured her. “She’d be so happy you were enjoying her. But I hope you’re leaving room for Carl? He’s the centre-piece after all!”

“Oh I most certainly am!” Mrs O’Sullivan grinned. “You know,” she leaned in conspiratorially. “I’ve always enjoyed a nice, big, thick willy! My aunt and uncle roasted my cousin when I was a little girl, I guess he would have been around the same age as Carl is now?” She mused for a second. “He looked like a man to me back then but then I was only six so anyone older than about twelve seemed like a grown-up. I’ve seen some pictures of him since, including some taken that day, and he might not even have been as old as Carl. Maybe fifteen or sixteen I suppose? Hard to say. Anyway,” she grinned, “since I was the youngest girl, they said I should get his willy. I remember they served it to me in a hotdog bun with fried onions and mustard. Mmm!” She smacked her lips. “It was so delicious, I feel like I can still taste it now, all these years later!”

“Well I hope we can recreate that experience for you!” Mollie grinned. “Would you like his oysters too?”

“Oh no, dear,” Mrs O’Sullivan smiled warmly. “Give one of those to Natasha and you have the other as a thank you from me!”

“Oh wow, if you’re sure?” Mollie grinned. “That would be awesome!” By the next time she went to check on him, Carl was fully roasted and ready to serve. Although his hat had been taken off for the roasting, he had, rather impressively, managed to keep the monocle in his eye and, as the metal rim had warmed up, it had fused with his skin, holding it permanently in place. Carefully, under Mollie’s supervision, Carl and Doug lifted the roasted young man off the coals and placed him on the carving mount. Since they would need to roll him around to carve the different parts of his body people requested, it was not possible to put his had back on him but instead Mollie hung it on one of the supports. Now that there was no more Lydia meat to cook, Doug removed the grill and stood it carefully against the metal frame then doused the coals with sand, a farm cleaner and more effective way of putting them out than water which created an awful lot of smoke. This task complete, he and Cole went to take the lid off the stew pot, ready to ladle it into bowls for the hungry guests, while Mollie took up the carving knife and fork set with the bone handles, the ones she had picked out to keep with the theme, and invited Mrs O’Sullivan forward to receive the first cut of roast Carl.


To be continued...