Passing

 “...service do you require?” 

“Er... ambulance!  And police...” 

“Thank you, sir.  Where are you?” 

Ben looked around.  “By the Palm House.  There’s a guy... he's bleeding...” 

“Very good, sir.  An ambulance is on its way.  Is the man conscious?” 

“I... I’m sorry.  I didn’t check.  I just saw the blood...”  He glanced at the figure on the ground then away, taking a deep breath of the night air. 

“Could you check now, please?  Just call out to him.” 

“Oh, yes.  Yes, of course.”  Turning towards the man he called out, “Hey, mate!  Hey, can you hear me?” 

There was a slight movement of the head in Ben’s direction, a vague sound from the throat. 

“Er, don’t try to speak!  Don’t move – there's an ambulance on its way, mate.” 

“Thank you, sir.  Would you like to give me your name?” 

“What?”  Ben had forgotten the emergency services operator and her voice took him by surprise. 

“Your name, sir?  As a witness...” 

His mouth went dry.  “A...  But I didn’t see anything.  He was like this when we got here.” 

“We?  Is someone else with you?” 

He pulled on the lead, keeping Topsy away from the man.  “It’s not a person.  I was walking past with my dog, Topsy.  She wants to go to him.  Always wants to help.  Whenever I’m depressed...” 

“That’s great, sir.  Your name...?” 

Ben furrowed his brow.  “Do I have to?” 

“No, sir.  But the police will be grateful for any information...” 

“Police?  I...” 

“You asked for the police, sir.  I understood from what you said the man you’re with was assaulted.” 

“Yes, yes, he must have been.  He’s covered in blood.” 

“Is he still conscious, sir?” 

“Er...   Hello?  Mate?  Can you still hear me?” 

This time there was no answering movement or sound, then there was a choking cough.  Then stillness. 

“I... er... did you hear that?” 

“Yes, sir.  Is he still breathing?” 

Edging nearer, Ben peered through the gloom, trying to decide whether or not the man’s chest was moving.  “I... I can’t tell.  I’m sorry.” 

“That’s OK, sir.  You’re doing all you can.  The ambulance should be very close, now.  Can you see or hear...” 

He scanned the park.  “Yes!  I can see the lights!  Hey, mate, hold on.  The cavalry’s coming...” 

Some time later, he sat in a police interview room nursing a cold cup of tea.  His mother had collected Topsy, offering to stay with him but in a tone that suggested what she really wanted was to get back to the crime drama she had been watching when she left. 

“It’s OK, Mum.  I just need to give a statement.” 

“Well, if you’re sure?  They were about to reveal the killer...” 

“You go.  I’ll see you when I get home.” 

Some flicker of maternal concern suddenly arose.  “Well, what time will that be?  You’ve got work tomorrow.” 

“I don’t know, Mum.  Don’t wait up.” 

“Well... OK.  I’ll see you when I see you,” and she went off with an injured air as if she were the one being inconvenienced. 

Before he could begin yet another fruitless analysis of his relationship with his mother, two detectives came in and sat down. 

The woman, DC Patel, said, “Mr Fuller?  Thank you for waiting.  We like to take statements as close to the incident as possible.  While the details are fresh.” 

He nodded, glancing at the man, DS Harding, who gave a brief smile, then looked at his notes. 

“We’ve identified the victim.  John Wilson, local.  Does that name mean anything?” 

Ben frowned.  “The only Wilson I know is a woman.  Well, I knew her dad, too...  Er, sorry,” he rubbed a hand over his face.  “Julia Wilson.  We were at school together.  But that wasn’t her, so I don’t know why I’m telling...” 

DC Patel took a photograph out of the file she was holding.  “This is a picture of the deceased...” 

The word was like a physical blow.  “He...  He didn’t make it?” 

“No, Mr Fuller.  Mr Wilson was severely beaten with a blunt instrument; he passed away in the ambulance.  This photograph was taken a little while ago, before he had fully transitioned...” 

Now thoroughly confused, Ben looked at the picture.  “But that’s Julia, just with shorter hair.  And stubble...”