St Matthew's Passion - By Sam Archer Page 0,22
tried to look noncommittal but couldn’t keep up the pretence, and her face broke into a beaming grin.
‘Not bad, was I?’
Without any trace of irony, he said, ‘You were sensational.’
She darted a quick look at him, a demure look from beneath lowered lashes. He felt his stomach do a slow somersault. Glancing at the nurse who was separating out the various pieces of waste into different containers, he thought: I’m glad we’ve got a chaperone.
‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘That was a top-notch job. We won’t know fully how it turns out until it’s healed a little, of course, but… I haven’t seen skill like that for a long time.’ He raised his eyebrows ruefully. ‘I only hope we don’t lose you to a career in plastic surgery.’
‘No chance. Trauma’s where I belong.’ Melissa finished drying her hands, and turned to face him fully. ‘But thank you again, Fin. For the opportunity, and for the praise.’
Her head was thrown back a little, her breasts thrust forward almost imperceptibly. Almost unconsciously he responded, shifting so that he faced her square-on and pushed his hips slightly forwards.
Watch yourself, Fin. Remember where you are.
And then: remember what you’ve done.
Before he could spoil the mood once again, a casualty officer poked his head round the door. Mr Finmore-Gage? RTA coming in, blue-light. Three casualties.’
A road traffic accident. The first of the morning, and it wouldn’t be the last.
He shrugged, tilted his head towards the door.
‘Shall we dance?’
Melissa grinned and followed him out into the maelstrom.
***
Melissa wasn’t a Londoner by birth or upbringing, but as a child growing up in Sussex her parents used to bring her to London for a day’s shopping before Christmas each year. She’d loved the anticipation: the excitement the night before, the early start and the train journey, the thrill as they pulled into Victoria Station and caught the Underground to Oxford Circus where they’d alight into the bright, crazily bustling carnival of Oxford Street. As an adult Melissa had tried to keep the tradition alive, treating herself to a West End shopping day at least once every Christmas. And of course, this year it would be easy as she actually lived in the city.
She picked a Saturday, the busiest shopping day of the year as it was the one before Christmas, and, efficient as ever, did her shopping for other people – her parents, her brother, a few odds and ends for the Trauma department staff – first, so that she could relax and indulge herself. Melissa made a meal of her day: tea at Fortnum & Mason’s, clothes shopping at Selfridges and a Bond Street boutique or two, followed by a browse around John Lewis’s flagship department store on Oxford Street.
All the while, she found her thoughts returning to Fin. She saw him in billboard advertisements for gentlemen’s clothes, in the men whom she passed in the jostling crowds on the street, even, Lord help her, in the male mannequins in the shop windows. His behaviour was starting to infuriate her once again. He’d definitely warmed to her, there was no doubt about that, and was far freer with his praise than he’d once been. But every time she thought they were getting close to a replay of a situation like the one outside her flat that night, every time the attractive force between them was so blatantly obvious that the air seemed to crackle with it, Fin would pull back, draw into himself, physically and emotionally, and she’d be left feeling drained and bewildered.
Was there another woman in his life? Possibly, but she didn’t think so. She’d been in his office and there were no pictures of anyone else. In that case, did he feel awkward because she was his trainee? Or was he perhaps wary of office romances of any sort? Well, she could understand both of those points of view. Maybe she should be more careful, more aware of the damage an affair with the boss could do to her career. She was already at a disadvantage, as a woman in what had traditionally been a man’s field. She really didn’t people whispering that she’d got where she had by sleeping her way to the top.
Forget about all that today, she told herself as she descended the escalator in the department store to the floor which held the perfume and jewellery. You’ve come out here to enjoy yourself just for the day. To have a bit of frivolous fun.
Melissa wandered the glittering aisles, inhaling deeply of