St Matthew's Passion - By Sam Archer Page 0,25

she cleared the air with Fin. Confronted him, and brought out into the open, at last, this thing that was between them, and which both of them had been aware of for weeks but had decided almost playfully not to mention, still less discuss.

Tomorrow evening was the department’s Christmas party. The atmosphere would be informal, the usual hierarchical relations between different staff members more relaxed. It would be the ideal time to bring up a matter of this kind.

Melissa would find a moment to be alone with Fin and would speak to him then.

Chapter Six

‘Melissa!’

For someone with so slight a build, Emma had a surprisingly strident voice when she needed to. Melissa spotted her colleague at the far end of the pub, sitting with a couple of junior doctors and nurses.

She picked her way across the crowded room, nodding her greetings as she went. The department was a large one and they’d hired this floor of the Black Lion pub for the evening. Everybody was there, from clinical staff to cleaners and porters, from secretaries to chaplains.

Everybody except, so far, Fin.

Melissa unwound her scarf and shrugged off her coat, glad to be in the boozy warmth after the harshness of the night outside. Melissa stood.

‘What can I get you?’

Melissa accepted a red wine, fumbling for her purse. Emma shook her head.

‘Prof’s paying for the first hour.’

Professor Penney, the head of the department, was over at another table, regaling a group of staff with some anecdote or other. Melissa raised her glass to him in thanks, and he raised his in turn and winked.

Melissa had barely seen Fin all day, though she hadn’t been avoiding him; nor did she feel he was avoiding her either. They’d simply had their own work to do that day, and their paths hadn’t happened to cross. She remembered, however, that he’d proposed the venue for the office party himself some weeks earlier, and had enthusiastically been reminding people about it ever since. So she assumed he was going to be there.

She had woken from her post-night duty sleep that morning refreshed and with renewed resolve. She was going to speak directly to Fin about what had been going on between them. It would be painful, agonising even, to hear him admit that he had someone else, but the hurt it would cause her would in the long run be more bearable than the slow torture she was enduring at the moment. And she wouldn’t have to humiliate herself entirely. She would only need to acknowledge that she was attracted to him, even strongly attracted.

She wouldn’t need to tell him that she loved him. That was knowledge she’d lock away in a box inside her and bury deep. Eventually it would crust over like a treasure chest at the bottom of the ocean, forgotten and unseen.

Nine o’clock came and went. Around her the merriment was growing and the drink was flowing thick and fast. Melissa nursed her single glass of wine, wanting to keep a clear head for the coming encounter with Fin. She kept up her end of the various conversations she found herself drawn into, trying her best to appear as if she was enjoying herself, was full of seasonal cheer. But her thoughts were elsewhere. Every time the door opened to a blast of freezing air she looked across, but it was always someone else, coming in off a late shift or after popping home first. There was no Fin.

By ten o’clock the party was taking a turn for the raucous. Professor Penney had closed the tab by then and so Melissa went to the bar to buy a round of drinks for the group of people she was sitting with. While the barman prepared the order Melissa leaned on the bar, and became aware of Emma sliding on to the stool next to her.

‘Fin not here yet, then.’

Emma was a little tipsy, her speech a fraction slower than normal. Melissa shrugged, as if she hadn’t thought about it.

‘He’s probably finishing up at the office.’

Emma slung an arm across Melissa’s shoulders. Leaning close, she half-whispered: ‘It’s okay to show that you’re disappointed, you know.’

‘Disappointed?’ Melissa’s laugh sounded forced to her own ears. ‘Why would I be? The company here’s pretty good as it is.’

Emma laid a forefinger alongside her own nose. ‘You can be open with me, girl.’

Melissa sighed, turned on the stool to face Emma. ‘What are you on about?’

‘You and Fin.’

As with Deborah, Melissa felt a stab of indignation. ‘There’s nothing