Arise, Sir Ben. (Or Should it be Saint Ben?)

I have a friend called Ben. And I am proud to call him friend. I collect memorabilia; Ben collects old people; he has had at least three that I know of. Always neighbours, he visits them often; he fights their battles with the local council, usually concerning matters of care; He gives freely of his time well beyond an ordinary man's call of duty.
Ben is seventy one. He has also had, in the not too distant past quite a serious knee operation. This never stopped him caring for Guy, his most recent 'adopted' geriatric. Guy was a single minded gentleman whose life was much enhanced by Ben's equally single minded care in all things. It is no exaggeration to state that, without Ben, Guy's life would have been shorter and
certainly less fulfilled. They were in many ways a 'couple'. But a couple of what? You may well ask!
Guy was seriously limited concerning mobility and extremely elderly but this did not stop him exploring Derby and district. How could he fail to do so with a wheelchair to hand and Ben 'to boot'. Not the easiest of outings, Guy was no lightweight and Ben's knee surgery was not to be easily dismissed. But Ben usually made light of the problem. Even on the occasion a tyre fell off the wheelchair. Fortunately most young men are fit. At least that was so in the case of the two young men who lifted the wheel chair plus occupant into the air whilst the tyre was carefully replaced prior to the journey home. Not easily daunted were our intrepid travellers, though the trip to the supermarket nearly became 'a bridge too far'.
Guy had a penchant for fresh fish so, on a hot summer's day a trip to the local, though not too local Asda was welcomed by Guy with relish. A pleasant visit, mission accomplished, salmon to hand, the intrepid pair triumphantly set off for home. Only Ben has never been a driver, so he returned the way he knew as a passenger in his wife's car. Literally over the aforementioned 'bridge too far' which leads directly onto the A52. Now the A52 is a dual carriageway, Derby to Nottingham, very fast, very busy, no hard shoulder, no provision for pedestrians, (in fact pedestrians are forbidden). All facts lost on our doughty duo. Reminiscent of Batman and Robin, Laurel and Hardy, Mutt and Jeff; take your pick. The speeding traffic, inches away were ignored by the intrepid pair as they ploughed on with thoughts of tea and crumpet, or, in this case, fresh salmon sandwiches. That is, until the shrill sound of a siren shattered the air waves. How many passing motorists had rung 999 we'll never know; a fair number I guess. I'm not sure who was the most shocked, our intrepid duo or the passengers and driver in the police car who pulled in behind Ben and Guy. I know who was the most amused, the lady police officer who, though concerned, was nigh on having hysterics at the absurdity of the situation. Ideally, as the police suggested, the 'journey' needed terminating forthwith. Only it proved impossible to transfer Guy to the attending police vehicle. (an ambulance visited the scene, albeit briefly and was assured its presence was not necessary) Guy was for the first time concerned, for it was a hot day and salmon does not stay fresh when subjected to extreme heat! The answer was simplicity itself. A police escort to hold back traffic, allowing the dynamic duo to continue their way to the slip road ahead. A slow, laborious journey not helped by Guy dropping his walking stick several times as he concentrated on NOT dropping the salmon, a far more important item. To stop all traffic from overtaking was excellent. To stop traffic in BOTH directions from moving in order to allow the duo to cross the carriageway and exit showed the British police at their finest. Guy found the whole thing great fun. (He later suggested it was the best day he'd had in years.) Ben was embarrassed, and implored the police to not inform anyone concerning their unfortunate escapade. But as the lady constable informed, 'Keep it secret, the whole episode has been recorded on camera.' (Presumably for posterity, I personally have been surprised it has not surfaced on You Tube.)
An eventful afternoon worthy of a drink. Only the pub Ben and Guy called at on leaving the A52 was closed due to some problem with licences. Plus a detour to another pub proved no more fruitful, the time now way beyond the dinnertime opening hours. A can of beer on arrival home after an eventful day out Ben's only material reward for services rendered. Neither Ben, Guy or myself are religious in the accepted sense. But I tell you something, if there is a God up there in the sky, he was certainly looking over these two on that hot summer's day. And undoubtedly a good time was had by all.

Guy recently died. Sad in a way, but close to ninety years of age, the end of a long , interesting and happy life. Ben, no scholar, told me that Guy was having a 'humourist' funeral. I thought about it and concluded this would give anyone a cheerful send-off. I presumed you told the deceased's favourite jokes, sang happy songs and perhaps read excerpts from funny people, bits of Spike Milligan, and the like. In a way it was a pity Ben meant a 'humanist' funeral. All the same evidently it was far from a miserable affair and I'm sure Guy would have approved. And I trust there are other old people out there who lack that personal touch. If so please ring me for Ben's number. For I swear he's looking for someone else on whom to lavish his special brand of geriatric care and attention. Well done Ben, thou good and faithful servant.