After Will passed, his wife auctioned off all of his archives. There was so much — puppet heads, moulds, parts. He also collected movie and puppet memorabilia, plus rare posters from his childhood.
I spoke with work and got the day off. Went to the bank and got my first credit card. Never had a reason to have one before.
I got the auction catalogue and circled everything I wanted. Most of it was Will’s own work — characters he’d sculpted and produced for his personal projects.
Later, I reached out to one of his friends who had worked with him. Will had made a pilot for one of his own projects. I asked if he had a copy. He did — but promised he’d never show it to anyone. In a way, I respected that. A man to his word. If he says he’s going to do something, he does. (Though he also performed Punch and Judy, so maybe some things are less sacred.)
On the day of the auction, I managed to get most of the pieces I wanted. Some of the earlier lots went for unbelievably cheap. I later tracked those down on eBay — at a significantly higher price.
I reached out to Will’s wife after the auction. We met for a coffee in a small town just outside London, near where they’d lived.
It was surreal. It felt like we were old friends catching up. She shared stories — things I’d never heard before. Moments that made Will feel close again.But there was another side to it.
Before the auction had even taken place, acquaintances of Will — people he’d worked with in the past — were already trying to get lawyers involved. They were making claims over puppets that never belonged to them.
It broke my heart. Watching people circle like that. Harassing a widow with legal threats, just to try and get their hands on something.
Later, I found pages online where people were tearing into her. Saying she should have taken private offers instead of going through an auction house. Painting her as greedy. Opportunistic.
But that wasn’t the truth.
She was a grieving widow. Working for the NHS. Just trying to find a way forward.