One Of The Inmates
In his seventies, flat cap and waist-coat like an archetypal grand-dad.
He's considered safe enough to be let out on his own. He's allowed to keep an allotment halfway into town. Huey walks through the streets carrying a garden-fork and a galvanised bucket looped onto the crook of his arm. His wellie boots scud on the pavement as he walks along, talking to himself.
Huey likes to present historical documentaries on the trade unions as he heads down the high street.
'Once,' he says, 'these old cottages belonged to factory workers. They were treated very badly by the factory owners...'
Then he really gets into it, uses the handle of his garden fork as a microphone.
Most presenters are glad of an audience. But Huey swears and curses the American tourists who can't help but stare at his show.