Big Kevin

Ted Rudkin builds scarecrows out of oil drums, gull wings and rubber gloves, and for forty-one years nobody in the fens has thought twice about it. Then a stranded gallery curator photographs the nine-foot horror in Bill Braybrook's beet field, and by breakfast the art world has fallen in love. Suddenly there is money, a laminator, a Range Rover, a critic, and a sixty-foot commission Ted cannot make. Meanwhile, with the fields unguarded, the birds are moving in.