St Matthew's Passion - By Sam Archer Page 0,26

going on –’

Emma held up both palms in a placatory gesture. ‘Whoah, whoah. I’m not saying there is.’ She winked. ‘But it’s obvious you fancy each other like mad.’

‘Come on –’ But Melissa suddenly, desperately wanted Emma to continue. She’d said not you fancy him but you fancy each other…

‘Listen. All the girls look at Fin. I look at Fin. Can’t help it. He’s rather easy on the eye. Ah, forget that; he’s drop-dead gorgeous. A heart throb. And all the blokes look at you. No, let me say my piece before I lose the power of speech,’ Emma said, holding up a finger. ‘But the two of you, you and Fin… it’s not just looking at each other. Sparks fly when you’re in the same room. There’s a chemistry there, a connection. Neither of you can help it, though why would you want to?’ She leaned in again. ‘And for the record, I know you haven’t… done anything. That’s exactly why the electricity’s there. The tension.’ She sat back again, stifling a hiccup. ‘Think I’d better switch to water.’

Melissa stared at Emma, her friend’s words playing over and over in her mind. Emma beamed.

‘The question is, what are you going to do about it?’

Emma helped Melissa carry the glasses back to the table, then wandered off to the ladies’ room. Melissa sat, letting the conversation swirl and eddy around her once more.

Was Emma right? If so, Melissa herself had been right all along too. Fin did have feelings for her, and powerful ones. And perhaps he was conflicted; perhaps he did have someone else and he was torn between her and Melissa. Was that why he hadn’t come tonight? Couldn’t he face a whole evening of being with someone in a social situation whom he desired yet couldn’t acknowledge his feelings for?

A sudden thought hit Melissa almost audibly, like a coin dropping into an empty vending machine. She nearly slapped her forehead.

Had Fin bought the necklace for her?

She stood up abruptly, one word repeating itself over and over in her head.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

‘I’m going to head off,’ Melissa announced to the table.

‘Home so early?’ someone asked. Emma had just arrived back from the bathroom and gazed at Melissa.

Melissa said, ‘No, I think I’ll pop back to the office for a bit.’

‘The office, eh?’ Emma gave her an amused, knowing look. ‘Don’t work too hard, darling.’

Melissa said her goodbyes throughout the pub, trying not to seem too hasty. Emma had asked what she was going to do about the situation, and it was a fair question. Well, if Fin wasn’t going to come to Melissa, she was going to go to him.

She hoped only that he hadn’t gone home yet.

***

Melissa’s fears were unfounded. She saw a light from under the door of Fin’s office as she approached down the dark corridor.

The pub was a ten-minute walk from St Matthew’s and she was glad of this. Any longer and she might have got cold feet, found any number of excuses for herself to put this moment off.

At his door she paused, her fist poised. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself, then tapped four times.

There was no response, and for a few seconds Melissa felt a sweep of relief. He’d gone home after all, and had left the light on by mistake. But then she heard footsteps and the door opened. Fin peered out.

‘Melissa?’

‘Fin. Hi.’ She was momentarily lost for words. ‘I’ve come from the party. We wondered where you’d got to.’ This wasn’t at all the way she’d planned to start her speech, as if she’d been despatched merely to jolly him along into attending the Christmas do.

‘I am coming. Just finishing -’ He broke off, looked at his watch. ‘Is that the time? Ten thirty?’

‘Afraid so.’

Fin sighed deeply, wiped a hand across his face. Then he opened the door wide. ‘Forgive me. You’re standing out there like a delivery boy. Come in.’

Melissa stepped inside. The lamp was on at Fin’s desk and a pile of papers was spread across the surface.

‘Just finishing this review article,’ he said, apologetically.

He gestured at the armchair, just as he’d done on her first day, but she didn’t sit. Instead she stood watching him as he moved back round his desk and started to gather up the papers into some semblance of order. His sleeves were rolled halfway up his forearms, his collar button was unfastened with the tie knot pulled to one side and his shirt tails were partly untucked. He’d