St Matthew's Passion - By Sam Archer Page 0,59

person with – and she’d never have guessed this before – quite a sense of humour.

‘Oh, nothing,’ said the nurse, her face neutral. ‘Professor Penney has asked that you see him in his office.’

Baffled, Melissa made her way to the office corridor. She tapped on the door of the office where, three months earlier and seemingly a lifetime ago, she’d announced that she was resigning.

‘Come in!’ boomed the professor’s hearty voice.

He was seated behind his huge oak desk, beaming. To Melissa’s surprise, Emma was perched on one corner of the desk. She gave a small wave.

‘Prof,’ said Melissa, glancing from one to the other. ‘What’s this all about?’

‘How are you, Melissa?’ he said, as if he hadn’t heard. Melissa frowned nervously.

‘Fine, thanks.’

‘Back in the swing of things?’

‘Yes. No harm done, though I don’t think I’ll be doing any more swimming for a while.’

‘Good, good.’ He laughed, waved her towards a chair. She sat on the edge.

Silence followed. It could have lasted only seconds but it seemed to stretch towards eternity.

Professor Penney said: ‘We’ve got a little something for you.’

So that was it. A leaving present of some kind. Melissa smiled, wondering why they’d bothered with such a dramatic buildup. ‘Well, that’s very kind, but –’

‘Emma here’s got some news,’ the professor cut in. Melissa looked at Emma, who beamed.

‘I’m pregnant.’

‘Fantastic! Congratulations!’ Melissa was out of the chair and hugging her friend. ‘How long?’

‘We’re expecting in mid-June.’

‘That’s – you’re five months gone already?’ Melissa stepped back to stare down at Emma’s belly. Perhaps the hint of a fullness there. ‘What’s your secret? You look terrific.’

‘Thanks. But I’m going to have to be careful,’ said Emma. My doctor’s advised me to take maternity leave early. I need to rest up before the birth. Had a bit of a scare at the beginning and I mustn’t take any chances.’

‘How early are you taking leave?’

‘From six months,’ Emma replied.

Melissa thought about it. ‘You’re going off in a month’s time?’

‘Yep.’

‘Hot on my heels, then.’

From behind the desk Professor Penney said, ‘It doesn’t have to be that way.’

Melissa turned to face him once more. ‘Prof, I really appreciate it, but as I’ve explained before, I –’ She broke off as a thought struck her. When she met his eyes, she saw he knew that she understood.

He nodded, spread his hands.

‘Emma’s job’s yours, once she goes, if you want it. You’d work for me, as my registrar. Same department, but not directly under Fin’s supervision. No conflict of interest, no awkwardness. Of course, the two of you will come into contact during the working day, but I dare say you’re both mature enough not to let that affect your work.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘So, what do you say? Can we hang on to you?’

Again Melissa stared from one to the other, no words available to her for a few moments. Dizziness seized her and for a second she thought she was going to collapse.

Be with Fin, and be at St Matthew’s. She was, after everything, going to be able to do both.

Dimly she was aware that the professor had spoken. She forced herself back down to earth, couldn’t quite make it, and felt as if she was listening to him from a cloud.

‘Well, come on, Ms Havers,’ he said. ‘The offer’s not going to be open for ever.’

Melissa drew a deep breath, stepped up to the desk as briskly as her weak legs would allow her, and extended her hand to shake his.

‘Professor Penney,’ she said. ‘I’d be honoured to work for you. Thank you.’

At the door he called, ‘Oh, and if you’re going to tell Mr Finmore-Gage the good news, there’s no hurry. He already knows.’

It explained the twinkle in Fin’s eye when she’d left him.

***

The lights glittered off the shifting mass of the river, far below through the window. On the other side the north bank of the Thames stretched majestically. There was the unmistakeable outline of St Paul’s dome, and there, further on, the towers of St Matthew’s.

The river held no terror for Melissa now. Nothing did any more.

The restaurant was on the tenth storey of the building, high above the river on the South Bank. When Fin had first proposed taking her there she’d been horrified. The meals each cost as much as she earned in a month. But he’d put a hand up to stop her protests.

‘It’s the first time,’ he said. ‘It needs to be a special occasion. We deserve it.’

Their table was one of the best in the house,