St Matthew's Passion: A Medical Romance (20 page)

When she did finally venture home, at the insistence of not only Emma and Deborah and Professor Penney but Fin himself, she spotted the throng of reporters on the front steps just before she went through the doors. Retreating back into the hospital, Melissa headed for a little-known exit through the kitchens and made her escape that way.

During the days of Fin’s recovery, as test after test came back normal and the relief began to intensify in Melissa, the two of them conversed very little. Melissa didn’t want to weaken Fin by overtaxing him, didn’t want to get in the way of his healing. But he made it clear he didn’t want her to go away either. So she sat by his bed, in ICU and later when he was transferred down to one of the regular wards, often holding hands with him, sometimes kissing in a fairly chaste way. There was so much to be said between them, but it could wait now that it was becoming clearer that he was going to be all right.

Now, as Melissa stepped on to the ward ready to face a day’s work, she felt a pang of sadness. Prof Penney had told her not to start her duties again: she had less than a week left, and she’d been through a serious trauma. She needed rest. But Melissa couldn’t leave just like that. She had to go out with a bang, giving her all to the job right up until the end.

The sadness she felt was for the ward, the department, the hospital itself. Because she couldn’t stay, even now that she and Fin had made clear their feelings for one another. Perhaps particularly so now. Deborah had been right: a love affair between two of the most important people in the department would inevitably get in the way of the smooth running of the service. Melissa had made her choice: she wanted Fin, and it looked as if they were going to be together. But in return, she had to give up her job at St Matthew’s.

As Melissa busied herself about the ward, the atmosphere different now, cheerful even despite the enormous suffering many of the patients had recently undergone (Deborah later said one of the patients had told her that being treated by doctor who was a genuine hero had assisted his recovery, and Melissa snorted, though secretly she was pleased), she thought:
I’m going to miss this place. Perhaps more than I can even imagine
.

***

By the fifth day after the episode on the river, Fin was up and about, taking regular walks, a little shakily at first but with growing confidence. Melissa visited him upstairs whenever she could snatch a few minutes away from her work. One such opportunity arose after the orthopaedic and neurosurgeons took over one of her cases for whom their skills were better suited than hers. With no patient to take to theatre, Melissa wandered along to Fin’s ward.

He was sitting on his bed sipping tea, in pyjamas and a hospital gown, his hair rumpled, his face a little thinner for his ordeal, but good-humoured. And handsome as ever.

His eyes appraising her, he patted the bed beside him and she sat down. They pressed close.

‘Busy morning?

Melissa gave him a rundown of her day so far. Fin interjected from time to time with questions about the patients she was describing, and remarks about how she’d managed them. There was an easy familiarity between them now, but the tension hadn’t entirely disappeared. It wasn’t the simmering dynamic of things unspoken and unacknowledged that had been there earlier, but rather a delicious, slightly frightening sense of expectation. A taut thrill of anticipation, stretched almost to breaking point.

Too soon, her pager went off. It was a non-urgent call to the ward.

Melissa pressed her face against Fin’s neck, breathing his warmth. ‘I need to get back.’

‘Have you said your goodbyes yet?’

She sighed. ‘I’ve been putting it off. It’s better that way, I think. Last-minute handshakes all round, just before I leave tomorrow. It’ll avoid all the tears and hysteria.’

‘I’m sure the staff will be more restrained than that.’

‘I wasn’t talking about them.’ She smiled, stroked his knee, stood up. As she bustled through the doors, she wondered about the twinkle she’d seen in Fin’s eyes. It was probably because of her hand on his leg, she thought.

To Melissa’s surprise, Deborah met her at the entrance to the ward. Was there some crisis on?

‘What’s up?’ she said in alarm.

The relationship between her and Deborah had changed utterly, to Melissa’s delight. The cool distance between them, the silence when they weren’t discussing work-related matters, had been replaced by an easy bonhomie. Melissa discovered that Deborah was actually a highly likeable 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, standing on its own in the scoop of a huge bay window that afforded a spectacular view over the Thames. The wine waiter had just arrived, and filled their glasses after Fin sampled and approved it. Melissa sipped. She was no expert, but this was quality.

She gazed at Fin over the rim of her glass. He looked, as the saying went, like a million dollars. His tuxedo was immaculate, the collar notched rather than cowled. Beneath the jacket he wore a crisp dress shirt of such brilliant white it almost hurt her eyes. His bow tie was perfectly straight, his face shaved beautifully. In the candle light his eyes glittered like dark gems.

Melissa found herself hypnotised by his eyes, his mouth, found herself incapable of tearing her gaze away.

She herself had agonised for over two hours about what to wear. She’d tried on and cast aside outfit after outfit before returning to the beginning again and repeating the sequence. At one point she’d considered phoning Emma to sound out her opinion. But she’d stopped herself. This was her night, hers and Fin’s. It wasn’t to be shared with anybody else, not even her closest friends.

Eventually she’d settled on a subtly sequinned blue dress that ended just above the knee and was cut moderately low up top. She hadn’t worn it for months, and was pleased to find that it fit as well as it did, snugly across her bust and hips and tightly at the waist. She studied herself with a critic’s eye in the full-length mirror in her wardrobe door, thinking she’d struck the right balance between demure and vampish. She chose stockings, not tights, and a pair of heels that were just low enough to be comfortable to walk in.

When the buzzer went she sprang out of her chair, her heart pounding, her palms sweaty, and raced to the intercom, feeling like a sixteen-year-old going on her first proper date. An unfamiliar voice said, ‘Ms Havers?’

Surprised and nonplussed, she said, ‘Yes?’

‘I’m Mr Finmore-Gage’s driver.’

He has a driver?
She hurried downstairs, almost forgetting her coat – she’d regret that quickly, as it was still mid-February and the winter was showing few signs of saying goodbye – and saw the limousine immediately, parked directly outside her block of flats. The driver opened the door and she ducked in. Fin sat across from the door, handsome and smiling in his livery, a single red rose between his fingers.

‘A limo?’ she said once they were underway and she’d kissed him briefly and taken his hand.

‘Even a beast like a Jaguar needs a rest once in a while.’ He handed her the rose.

Now, she lost herself in his gaze, the clink and murmur of the restaurant around them barely registering. The wine was spreading its slow warmth down through her chest and stomach, and at the same time she felt the beginnings of heat rising in the opposite direction.

‘Good day at the office?’ he murmured.

‘Not bad.’

‘Really?’

Melissa grinned. ‘I’m going stir crazy, to be honest.’

She’d cancelled the locum job in Devon she’d been intending to take to tide her over in February, and instead had agreed to spend the month working purely on research at St Matthew’s, collating and writing up data other people had gathered. She’d earn a small stipend for it, and it would keep her busy in London until the beginning of March when Emma was to go off on maternity leave and Melissa would step into her shoes in Professor Penney’s team. So she’d spent the last fortnight cloistered in an office with a couple of research assistants, trawling through reams of notes and screen after screen of computer files.

Fin had been discharged ten days ago, having been given a clean bill of health, and had returned to work four days later. He and Melissa had seen each other daily, meeting for lunch and walking in St James’s Park when the weather permitted it, but apart from growingly passionate kisses they hadn’t taken matters any further yet. It needed to be a special night, and Fin admitted he couldn’t get a booking at the restaurant until now.