St Matthew's Passion - By Sam Archer Page 0,32

one of the most prestigious training centres in the world. She’d succeeded in her career so far beyond her wildest dreams. This was her life. Anything else – relationships, love affairs, even – was at best an additional extra, at worst an inconvenience.

Fin and his rejection of her had torn through her heart like a scalpel blade. But she needed to keep a sense of perspective. Pain was something you dealt with, just as her patients had to cope with a degree of pain after surgery. In the end they healed, and so would she.

So: her career was all. And she’d do nothing to further her career by hounding her boss about his reasons for his behaviour. She’d let it drop, allow the matter to wash away into the distance like the flow of the Thames, and commit herself once more to getting all she could out of the fantastic opportunity she’d been given.

Energised despite her lack of sleep, Melissa began to get ready for the working day.

***

She managed to avoid Emma for most of the morning, but her friend cornered her as Melissa was finishing up the ward round.

‘You look more knackered than the rest of us, and you weren’t even out late,’ Emma said. Her tone was lighthearted but her eyes were concerned, searching Melissa’s.

Melissa managed a smile. ‘I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep very well.’ At all, you mean.

Emma glanced about to make sure there was nobody within earshot, then put a hand on Melissa’s arm. ‘What happened? Did you find Fin?’

‘Yes.’ Melissa paused. ‘It’s all resolved.’

Emma stared at her, digesting the words. ‘And…?’

‘And, nothing. He’s my boss, you know.’

Emma let out a long, slow breath. ‘Right. Look, it’s none of my business. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just… Your text last night sounded a bit brusque, as though you were upset.’

‘You know how easy it is to mistake the tone of a text message.’

‘Yes.’ Emma patted her arm. ‘I don’t mean to be a pain, as I say. But if you want to talk about anything, you know I’m always here.’

‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’ This time Melissa’s smile was heartfelt. She knew Emma genuinely meant well. Emma waved goodbye from the door, her glance still uncertain and tinged with concern.

The theatre list started after lunch, at two in the afternoon. Most of the department’s operations didn’t follow a schedule; it was the nature of trauma surgery that it was ad hoc, in response to emergencies as and when they came in. But there were always post-operative patients who needed to go back into theatre for revisions or further exploratory work, and three of these were on the afternoon’s list.

Melissa knew Fin was in, but hadn’t encountered him all morning, though she wasn’t deliberately avoiding him. She walked into the scrub room and found him at the sink, already scrubbing up himself. He turned his head to look at her and she felt a pang of something, more intense than she’d been ready for.

‘Melissa. Good to see you.’

He didn’t say how are you or did you sleep well, for which she was thankful. They were alone together in the scrub room. She stood at the adjacent sink and applied the brush vigorously to her nails and fingers.

The silence swelled between them. Melissa felt her chest tightening. One of them had to say something.

‘Melissa –’

‘Fin, look –’

They’d spoken at the same time. Their eyes met and they grinned.

‘You go,’ he said.

Rinsing her hands, she kept her eyes on his. ‘I think we should draw a line. Not mention any of it again. No quiet talks in the office after hours, going over stuff. No lingering resentment or doubts. Are you okay with that?’

He studied her, then said, his voice quiet and grave, ‘Yes. Thank you, Melissa. It’s more than I deserve, and far less than you do.’

She raised a finger to her lips, taking care not to touch them and recontaminate her hand. ‘No more, remember? Water under the bridge.’

‘Agreed.’ He dropped his eyes as if ashamed.

‘One condition,’ she said, feeling emboldened. ‘I don’t want any preferential treatment. No favours. No kid gloves. Drive me as hard as you’d drive any of your trainees. Call me out, in fact bawl me out, when I mess things up.’

‘Don’t worry. I will.’

She finished rinsing and went to dry her hands on a sterile cloth. With her back to Fin, she felt safe to let out a long breath.

That had been easier than she’d expected.

The afternoon list progressed smoothly, Fin and