St Matthew's Passion - By Sam Archer Page 0,40
for the top jobs these days. Love, marriage, family – all of those were important to her, in a vague, undefined way. But they belonged in her future, several years from now, once she’d established herself. Her career was her current priority.
Now, four months into the job, it had all come to nothing. She’d earned a reputation as a surgeon, that was for sure. But it seemed she was on her way to earning a reputation as something else: a spanner in the works, a fly in the ointment, call it what you will. So there was no option but to change her plans. Not to give up her ambitions entirely, but to settle for second best.
It was something she’d never done before, something that went against every instinct, and it chafed at her like ill-fitting clothes.
Only when Melissa stepped off the escalator into the station above did she realise that something else was troubling her. No, tormenting her, and even more than the thought of giving up her post at St Matthew’s.
She’d been shying away from the knowledge that she would never see Fin again.
***
‘My hearing must be going.’
Professor Penney sat behind his broad oak desk with his hands splayed across the surface. An avuncular man in his early sixties, he often affected an almost comical look, with his tiny spectacles and tufts of untamed hair sprouting from the rim of an otherwise bald scalp.
There was nothing comical about his appearance now.
‘Could you repeat that please, Ms Havers?’
Melissa sat on the edge of her seat across the desk from the professor, suddenly feeling not like a confident trainee surgeon but rather like a nervous first-year medical student withering under the stare of a fierce interviewer in a viva voce examination.
‘I’m sorry, Professor Penney. But I’m handing in my notice.’ She glanced at the letter, still in its envelope, that lay on the desk between them. Melissa had typed it that morning after she’d made her decision. Professor Penney hadn’t touched it, hadn’t even looked at it.
He closed his eyes for a moment, lowered his head, took a deep breath. Then he gazed at her from beneath bushy, lowered brows.
‘I’ve been a doctor a long time, Melissa.’
‘Yes, Prof.’
‘Close on forty years. Since long before you were even born.’
‘Yes, Prof.’
‘And I’ve seen and heard some things in my time. Things most people outside medicine wouldn’t believe possible.’
‘I dare say, Prof.’
He drew another breath. ‘But I have never, never, heard anything that’s astonished me as much as this.’
It was Melissa’s turn to sigh. ‘I know how it must look, Prof. And as I say, I’m truly sorry. You’ve given me a wonderful opportunity here, you and Mr Finmore-Gage, and I’ll always be profoundly grateful to you for it. I’m letting you down by doing this. Betraying you. But it’s something I have to do.’
He gazed at her for a full ten seconds without saying anything. Then: ‘You know what I’m going to ask next, of course.’
‘Why?’
‘Why.’
She gestured to the envelope. ‘I’ve explained it in there.’
‘I want to hear it from you.’
Melissa had rehearsed her answer, knowing the question would come. Still, it came out hesitantly.
‘There are personal reasons for my leaving. An emotional conflict has arisen which makes it impossible for me to continue working here.’
The professor frowned, then shook his head. ‘I don’t understand any of that, I’m afraid. Perhaps I’m just too old to grasp this modern-day jargon. “Emotional conflict”? What’s that in English?’
Melissa had dreaded to have to elaborate, but had no choice. ‘My personal relations with certain staff members are such that the working environment would be compromised –’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ms Havers!’ The professor waved his hand as if chasing away some airborne irritant. ‘Enough of this mealy-mouthed nonsense. You’re a plain-talking woman normally. You don’t flannel about like this when you’re discussing clinical matters. Tell me in words of at most two syllables what you’re talking about.’
‘I’m in love with a member of staff.’ Melissa blurted the words and snapped her mouth shut afterwards as if they might try to crawl back in. There. She’d said it. Let the chips fall where they may.
Professor Penny sank back into his swivel chair, the ancient leather creaking. He let out a long breath. ‘Oh, is that all.’ The relief was heavy in his voice. ‘For a moment I thought you were going to confess to having accidentally bumped off one of the nurses or something.’
Bewildered, Melissa said, ‘But I don’t see –’
The professor took off his glasses