PADS #22

QO 232 was back on the radio, desperately trying to cancel all the resources they had only recently requested. Wyse listened to the explanation given by QO 232 and it wasn’t flattering, his name was repeated several times. The humiliation was complete, not only in front of the police but worst still in front of Rogers who had witnessed everything. This would be talked over in ambulance control at coffee with biscuits and carefully planned impromptu meetings at the water cooler. All he wanted to do now was escape. His blood cells though were well ahead of him and were currently trying to escape via his ears, which had proceeded to blossom with the indignity of the situation.

‘Let’s go Elms.’ said Wyse, passing Rogers in the doorway.

Leaving the bedroom the friend lunged at Wyse grabbing his arm. The grip shook him out of his self pity and he felt his arm muscles slowly being compressed in an impassioned embrace.

‘Please, you promised I heard you.’ said the friend whose voice had dropped to a whimper and pressed the deceased friend’s details into Wyse’s palm, a last desperate paper bribe.

q‘I’m sorry,’ replied Wyse, ‘I can’t I...’ words faltered him, he was at a loss. He allowed his legs to make good his escape, from the broken friend and from his own shattered world.

qRogers shepherded Wyse and Elms down the stairs, ‘don’t worry, I’ll make sure the police have all the details, I just need your call sign.’

‘Romeo Bravo six oh one.’ replied Wyse.

‘Ah yes,’ snickered Rogers, closing the door behind them, ‘the finest ambulance crew in North London.’

The return journey in the ambulance was in stark contrast to their arrival, no wail of sirens or squealing of rubber heralded their approach, it was all Wyse could do to restrain himself from an emotional squeal or wail. Elms had attempted to engage him in talk but he had constructed an impenetrable shield to protect himself from the outside world. Leaving Elms to park the ambulance, Wyse quickly left the station and mounted his trusted steed. It was small solace to feel the reassurance of the leather worn saddle of his treasured sit up and beg, a bicycle he had received many years ago from his one true love. He had been so sure this had been the moment which would have finally released his true nature. Instead, he found himself in an abyss which even Dante would have been impressed to envisage.