A Friend of Mine
Memorial
There was a small memorial for Benjamin in the hospital gardens. Well—it was small, but it had since grown arms and legs since Juliana had last seen it, seemingly no end to the flowers and laminated cards being added to it each day. In the very centre was a picture of Benjamin; he was smiling, as always, and dressed up as the Cat in the Hat, whiskers and all. It had been for a charity run some of the nurses were doing for the local hospice, and all Juliana could remember was him coming home complaining of chafing in all the wrong places.
It felt bad to laugh, but she wouldn’t be the first person to laugh as they reminisced about Benjamin. It was an automatic reaction, of sorts; when Benjamin came to mine, a smile came to your face. He was just one of those people, recognised in life as well as in death as a tender, unique soul that was a credit to his family, friends and profession.
Julian crouched before the flowers and cards, placing some fresh flowers by a small teddy bear that wore a stethoscope. It was from Kath, the charge nurse on the surgical ward on which Benjamin worked. She was like a mother to him, and the last two Christmases she had invited both Benjamin and Juliana into her home. Stroking the slightly rain-matted fur of the bear’s ear, Juliana wondered what she’d be doing this year without him.
“They really should’ve moved this inside,” came the clipped, quiet voice of Alasdair Doherty.
Juliana had only met Alasdair on a handful of occasions, but she was firmly well-versed in his every quirk and movement on account of Benjamin’s massive crush on the specialist registrar. In the flesh, he wasn’t nearly as handsome or good-natured as Benjamin claimed him to be, but he was still nice, and a very good doctor despite an odd lack of expressed compassion.
Juliana stood up and looked at Alasdair. He had sandy-blond hair and a week-old beard, getting particularly thick on his top lip. He looked tired as he clutched a cup of coffee, but Juliana would be hard-pressed to find a doctor around here that wasn’t.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Keeping it together,” Juliana answered honestly.
Alasdair pursed his lips and nodded. “I—I was talking to our head of staff, and he said it’d be alright if I took the stuff in Ben’s locker. Cleared it out, you know?” he said. “I could drop it off later if you’d like. I know the way.”
He knew the way because, once, after a leaving do of one of the other nurses, he and Benjamin had gotten drunk and ended back at Benjamin and Juliana’s apartment. Nothing had happened, Benjamin insisted. Alasdair hadn’t said a word. They danced around each other so often that Juliana remained continually surprised that no one on the ward had banged their heads together, because she damn well would have, given the opportunity.
“Thanks,” she said, “that would be great. Really.”
“I—I need to find some chocolate to get me through the last of this shift.” Alasdair spoke with an odd, faux brightness. “I’ll see you later, Juliana.”
On her own once again, Juliana turned back to the photograph of Benjamin staring up at her.
“He’s so thoughtful, isn’t he?” Benjamin said wistfully, arriving at Juliana’s side. “God, why did they have to use that picture. I look mental.”
“You are mental,” Juliana said. She looked over and gave Benjamin a little smile, which he happily returned.
It felt bad to laugh, but she wouldn’t be the first person to laugh as they reminisced about Benjamin. It was an automatic reaction, of sorts; when Benjamin came to mine, a smile came to your face. He was just one of those people, recognised in life as well as in death as a tender, unique soul that was a credit to his family, friends and profession.
Julian crouched before the flowers and cards, placing some fresh flowers by a small teddy bear that wore a stethoscope. It was from Kath, the charge nurse on the surgical ward on which Benjamin worked. She was like a mother to him, and the last two Christmases she had invited both Benjamin and Juliana into her home. Stroking the slightly rain-matted fur of the bear’s ear, Juliana wondered what she’d be doing this year without him.
“They really should’ve moved this inside,” came the clipped, quiet voice of Alasdair Doherty.
Juliana had only met Alasdair on a handful of occasions, but she was firmly well-versed in his every quirk and movement on account of Benjamin’s massive crush on the specialist registrar. In the flesh, he wasn’t nearly as handsome or good-natured as Benjamin claimed him to be, but he was still nice, and a very good doctor despite an odd lack of expressed compassion.
Juliana stood up and looked at Alasdair. He had sandy-blond hair and a week-old beard, getting particularly thick on his top lip. He looked tired as he clutched a cup of coffee, but Juliana would be hard-pressed to find a doctor around here that wasn’t.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Keeping it together,” Juliana answered honestly.
Alasdair pursed his lips and nodded. “I—I was talking to our head of staff, and he said it’d be alright if I took the stuff in Ben’s locker. Cleared it out, you know?” he said. “I could drop it off later if you’d like. I know the way.”
He knew the way because, once, after a leaving do of one of the other nurses, he and Benjamin had gotten drunk and ended back at Benjamin and Juliana’s apartment. Nothing had happened, Benjamin insisted. Alasdair hadn’t said a word. They danced around each other so often that Juliana remained continually surprised that no one on the ward had banged their heads together, because she damn well would have, given the opportunity.
“Thanks,” she said, “that would be great. Really.”
“I—I need to find some chocolate to get me through the last of this shift.” Alasdair spoke with an odd, faux brightness. “I’ll see you later, Juliana.”
On her own once again, Juliana turned back to the photograph of Benjamin staring up at her.
“He’s so thoughtful, isn’t he?” Benjamin said wistfully, arriving at Juliana’s side. “God, why did they have to use that picture. I look mental.”
“You are mental,” Juliana said. She looked over and gave Benjamin a little smile, which he happily returned.