St Matthew's Passion - By Sam Archer Page 0,39
once again Melissa had gone short. This time it wasn’t patients who’d kept her awake, but her own inner agony. She’d deliberately refrained form reaching out for help, hadn’t called her parents or her brother or Emma, even though she knew all of them would have been more than willing to talk to her. She had to make one of the most important decisions of her career, and such a personal event required her to come to her own conclusions, without the advice of others, no matter how well-meant or even well-informed it was.
Besides, she knew what everyone would say. That she was a fool even to consider it.
But as the cold January morning sky began to lighten beyond her window, she had a sudden flash of clarity, the kind of “eureka” moment she’d experienced when the answer to a puzzling clinical problem had clicked into focus. She sat up in bed, all too aware of the immensity of the conclusion she’d reached, but at the same time strangely relieved. She’d made her choice, she’d live with the consequences, and that was that.
She was going to leave St Matthew’s.
Her friends, her family, her colleagues would see it as utter madness. She’d been given this golden opportunity, a chance no surgeon would pass up but only a tiny proportion were ever offered, and she was going to throw it away. She’d get excellent references from Fin and Prof Penney, she was sure, and she’d have little difficulty getting a job elsewhere. But always, there’d be a question mark hanging over her. Why had she done it? Couldn’t she handle the pressure of St Matthew’s? Was she a difficult person, who lacked the ability to work as part of a team? Did she provide proof to the chauvinists within the profession that women, at the last, couldn’t meet the demanding standards expected of them? It wouldn’t be career suicide, quite. But it would hobble her progression, there was no doubt about that.
On the other hand, Melissa couldn’t stay where she was. She’d come to realise that now. After she and Fin had given in to their passion in his office and he’d pushed her away, she had assumed they could carry on as colleagues while ignoring what had happened between them. Recent events had shown that was impossible. She could no more deny her feelings for him – yes, call it what it was: her love for him – than she could refute what she saw with her own eyes around her every day. She knew Fin was the same, that even if she was able to suppress her desire for him, he’d struggle with his own attraction to her and it would spill over at inappropriate moments such as in the scrub room two days earlier.
Deborah was, in her own way, right. The department, the service, couldn’t be allowed to suffer because of the folly of one or two people. If the simmering tension between Melissa and Fin was unresolvable, as it clearly was, and was having an adverse effect on the smooth running of the service and by extension the care of the patients, then one or other of the parties had to remove itself from the scene. There was absolutely no question of Fin’s leaving. It was his department, for the most part; he’d built it up and made it what it was today. So the logical conclusion was that Melissa must go, and as soon as possible.
As a registrar she was obliged to give at least one month’s notice. Professor Penney would have no difficulty whatsoever in replacing her. There was a queue of budding surgeons stretching the length of the Thames who would fill her shoes immediately. If she gave her notice today, she could leave in the first week in February, and do locum work to keep herself afloat financially while she applied for more permanent posts.
Standing in the Underground train on the way to work, Melissa felt a heavy sadness weigh her down like a sodden cloak. This wasn’t how it was supposed to turn out. Six months ago – less than that – she’d been almost delirious with excitement, her new life opening up before her. She was going to prove herself, not just meet expectations but surpass them. By the time a year had passed she was going to have earned a reputation as the finest up-and-coming young trauma surgeon in London. She’d have a research programme underway, essential for any doctor aiming