So, there shouldn’t be a difference. When the arms and legs and nose bits of me’s gone.

I know you. You will keep everything all bunched inside your head fighting one another and it will all go roaring around.

But do not let that drown me out.

The smell of me will fade.

The feel of me will fade.

That’s okay.

But do not let my voice go, John.

Make that your duty, now.

Keep my voice alive, and hear me.

That way I will live.

I need to know this is not it for me, and that we can still talk.

People do not talk. And they get themselves in awful trouble.

Don’t let this be the end of.

–Sorry, Ruth. I’m. This is. Ruth? I didn’t mean to . . . You’re upset. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be asking you to do this.

–I know. But. Even so. We can’t help it, can we? We’re born to care. How would we be able to do the job we do, did, unless we were unable not to? I bet you collected snails, when you were little, and looked after them in a little box. You did. I knew. I did too. Banded snails. They were quite unusual. I used to collect them when we visited the beach, from the sharp grass of the sand dunes. I’d look after them all day. Not interested in sandcastles. Good. I’ve made you smile at least, as well as cry.

–Some people, a lot of people, are just born to be a certain thing. John was born to duty. That’s his compass point.

–I knew when I asked him, when we first met, ‘please don’t be a soldier’, there was no point asking him to be a gardener instead.

–What does he do? Your. Colin. Journalist. He should write this. It’s terrible, isn’t it? I wish I could write. When it comes to it how we can’t really say what we mean. A hug would be much easier.

–It must be nice, to be with someone who can use their words properly.

–We didn’t hug enough. I think we would have hugged more as we got old together.

–Sorry. My mouth is so dry.

–Are you happy with Colin? Sorry. I shouldn’t ask. But you don’t . . .

–Don’t wait, Ruth. Don’t wait to find out.

–Doctor? Oh. Yes. Of course.

–Now?

–Of course. Do I have a moment?

–Okay.

–Just. Yes, of course. Could I have just a moment, please.

–Get rid of everything I’ve said. I guess.

–Just. Thank you, Ruth.

–Could you write.

John,

I know what you’ll miss the most is talking.

But here I am.

You can hear my voice, right?

Kiss.

PATROL