“Bryan Trethowan? Are you Bryan Trethowan?”
Bryan could see the twin lights of a parked car several metres behind the officer and the forms of two or three people standing in front of the car.
“Why don’t you come out of the water?” said the officer. “You must be freezing.”
Bryan stared at the officer. “How did you get there?” he asked in genuine surprise.
“In my car,” replied the officer.
Bryan looked down at himself. He was naked and dirty. His jaw ached and his throat was raw from shouting. “How did I get here?” he asked.
The officer reached out. “Come on, Bryan. Wash all that mud off and come with me.”
“I can’t wash it off,” he replied. “It’s part of me. I’m mud.”