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  ‘Bless you for asking.’ She sounded shattered. ‘You know, I have a good feeling about this place. He’ll be out just before Christmas but like most clinics of its kind, they don’t let them have mobile phones, so once I get a landline for the place – in case you need to reach him, or Alex wants to talk to him – I’ll pass it on and I will, of course, keep you posted. I’d love it if you and Alex would come and stay for a weekend or two while Dominic’s away. We could do the Natural History Museum – all of the sights. I could spoil both of you for a change. Anyway, we can sort that when you’re not at work. All love to you.’ Her voice began to wobble.

  ‘You too, Sorcha.’ I hung up and leant on the wall for a moment, disorientated. Nathan dealt with and twelve weeks Dom-free. This was turning out to be a far easier Monday than I’d been expecting. I slid my phone back in my pocket and, for a second or two, I simply didn’t know what to do, until I reminded myself of the very full clinic ahead of me. I blinked and went back into my office, sitting down at my desk and staring blankly at my screen.

  ‘You all right?’

  I looked up to see Hamish watching me. ‘Just won the EuroMillions?’

  I gave him a bland smile. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘Excellent! Well, I’ve always liked you, Julia, and while no thanks are necessary for the good word I put in after your interview, if you felt you wanted to buy me a hugely extravagant gift with your winnings, who would I be to say no to such a kind gesture? I’m partial to yachts, or there’s a Jeff Koons Balloon Swan, Monkey and Rabbit coming up at auction soon. The estimate is about 30k for the trio but I reckon it’ll come in just shy of 45k. That’d do nicely!’ He beamed.

  ‘Is that all? Bargain,’ I replied. ‘We can choose one each and flip a coin to see who gets the one left over?’

  ‘You like Jeff Koons?’ He returned to his screen.

  I hesitated. ‘I don’t know much about him really, other than he likes to be deliberately provocative. Isn’t that right?’

  Hamish stopped typing and reached for his phone. ‘Here – this is the set.’ He got up and brought it over to me. ‘They’re made of porcelain with a chromatic coating and based on huge, original stainless-steel sculptures that are over three metres tall.’ He leant over me, pushing the screen under my nose. ‘He first made the swan in ceramic form when he was just nine years old. Amazing, isn’t it?’

  I hesitated; Hamish was closer to me than I was comfortable with, but I attempted to relax. He was just trying to be friendly. That was a good thing. ‘I wouldn’t describe them as subtle, or particularly complex – if I’m honest? But that’s probably my ignorance.’

  ‘No, no – not at all,’ he insisted, drawing back, to my relief. ‘It’s all about interpretation. Nothing is wrong or right, but I think if you take the swan, for example, obviously the neck is phallic, but viewed from the side, it’s very female. The surface has been said to symbolise desire, acceptance and sexual harmony. The viewer is reflected in the surface, making you part of the piece somehow. I love the fact that they have been twisted by unseen hands; some might say it’s pretty much the perfect gift for a plastic surgeon.’

  He returned to his seat. It was the longest conversation I’d ever had with him and a surprising one. I wouldn’t have had Hamish down as prone to artistic reflection.

  ‘Thank you for putting in a good word for me,’ I said. ‘I appreciate that.’

  He gave me a mock salute. ‘Well, you were very much our first choice – Nathan’s only choice.’

  Was it my imagination, or did he say that pointedly? I didn’t comment but stopped what I was doing completely when he started whistling ‘There may be trouble ahead…’, and crossed my arms.

  ‘Hamish, did Nathan talk to you about me over the weekend?’ I felt comfortable enough to ask him outright, given the cosy conversation we’d just had. Was he trying to tell me he knew what had happened? What Nathan had said and done?

  He looked up at me, confused, but an expression of pity quickly spread across his face. ‘Ah. I’m sorry to say, Julia, that he hasn’t and if you don’t mind taking a word of advice from an old fool who has been there, seen and done it all before, in my experience these “work things” are better left alone. They always become complicated and the grass is rarely greener. Nate’s a super chap, and very obviously not happily married, but I still wouldn’t recommend you go there.’

  My mouth fell open. ‘Oh, no – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that – I—’

  ‘It’s OK.’ He held up a hand. ‘You don’t need to explain. I saw it coming as soon as he told me he’d “rescued” you from some encounter with your alcoholic ex?’

  I caught my breath. Nathan told him about Dominic? Oh God. Did everyone now know about my private life?

  ‘He does love playing the hero. Always has – and with good reason. He is extraordinary. I’ve told him so for years. The man has a genuine gift – women cannot resist him. Now, it would be simplistic to say it’s because he’s a surgeon and the power makes him attractive. After all, I’m hardly batting them off with a stick!’ He chuckled. ‘Of course, it helps that he’s very pretty and the different colour eye thing makes him seem edgy and a bit dangerous – but it’s not even that. It’s the damage… that’s what women sense in him. He’s a charming, good-looking, but a deeply broken boy. You all want to fix him – I understand – but take my advice, steer clear – not even someone as skilled as you could put him back together again. The second you devote yourself to him, he’ll be off. I’m afraid to say I’ve seen it happen many times before. I’d hate to see you walk the well-trodden road too.’

  ‘I wasn’t asking if you think I’m in with a chance. I meant did he?—’

  ‘Honestly, it’s fine!’ He held up a hand. ‘Never apologise, never explain.’ He reached for his mobile. ‘Sorry – I need to take this.’ He got to his feet and made for the door. ‘Hamish Wilson…’

  I had no choice but to let him leave the room. I’d misjudged our confidence, overstepped the line and given him the wrong impression. Marvellous. I waited anxiously for him to come back in, but by the time he did, Tan had also arrived. I ended up leaving it completely, for fear that it would sound as if I was protesting too much and hoped Hamish would think and say no more about it.

  Eighteen

  Nathan

  I had a terrible afternoon in theatre, my worst for years, and it was all Julia’s fault. Our morning confrontation had thrown me completely. I’d been excited to see her. I’d assumed her anger would have cooled and she’d be ready to listen to an apology – but instead, I’d been met by a detached, controlled and patronising version of her. She hadn’t even let me speak – just addressed me like a mother talking to a child caught deliberately scribbling on the wall. I was to behave myself going forward… or else.

  Her sudden distress at the beach was one thing. She hadn’t known what to do with her feelings – I understood that with hindsight – but I’d thought carefully about how best to defuse the situation all weekend. I had been going to take her to one side, apologise that my emotions had got the better of me and explain I’d no intention of hurting her. But she’d given me no chance whatsoever to explain, simply turning away from me as if I didn’t matter at all. I wasn’t sure who she thought she was, to be perfectly honest.

  The more I thought about it as I’d cut away at the cancerous breast tissue belonging to a woman in her forties, the more convinced I became that Julia had been deliberately and unnecessarily hard on me. It was as if another person had slipped into her body. If I could rewind the whole weekend and reset everything, I would, but—

  ‘Er, Mr Sloan?’ the specialist registrar assisting me interrupted, in one of those irritating ‘being jolly when I’m actually serious’ voices. ‘You’re trimming back quite a bit there?’

  I stopped immediately and gazed at him over the top of my mask. ‘I’m sorry?’

  I saw his eyes dart nervously to the nurse on his right, who wisely looked down. He d
idn’t get the hint though, little prick, and cleared his throat. ‘It just looked like, for a second, you might be going to go the whole hog and remove the chest muscles too, when we don’t do that anymore, do we?’

  The temperature fell away as if someone had opened a fridge door. ‘You realise you’re in theatre now?’ I said icily. ‘This isn’t like being at the hairdressers when you’re watching them absentmindedly go shorter than you asked for but thinking at least it will grow back? This is cancerous tissue.’ I pointed at the mess of bloodied flesh on display in front of us. ‘I’ve no desire to leave this poor woman concave, but I also want to minimise the chance of reoccurrence, so I’ll shave it as close as I think is necessary. I’m going to take the lymph nodes too, if that’s all right with you?’

  ‘Of course.’ He swallowed.

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘“Yes, Mr Sloan, I am happy for you to continue,”’ I said. ‘Just so we’re all clear.’

  A blotchy redness had begun to spread across his neck. ‘Yes, Mr Sloan, I am happy for you to continue.’ He whispered it.

  I held eye contact for just a little longer to make my point, before resuming, but as I stared down at the hole in the woman in front of me, I realised I had now completely forgotten the fucking plan for her. I remembered Julia telling us about her colleague removing the wrong breast in error at the Royal Grace, before covering it up by pretending he needed to remove both breasts, and I had to stop myself from flinging the instruments down in exasperation. I was supposed to be removing the lymph nodes too, wasn’t I? My mouth hadn’t just said that out of nowhere? And had I just been about to remove her chest wall by mistake in a lapsed moment of concentration? I experienced a stab of clear and sharp panic. I could feel everyone watching me, wondering what was going on. I swallowed and saw bloody Mrs Dowden lying in front of me again, and her daughter smiling gratefully on the other side of the table. I hadn’t taken enough there and I knew it, but Julia had smoothly sorted that out too. Julia Julia Julia.

  I blinked. I needed to ask the status of my real-life unconscious patient, to double-check I was about to proceed appropriately, but I didn’t want to give everyone in theatre the excuse for believing the SpR had been right to stop me. I was, however, scared of pressing on and making a huge mistake. It left me no choice but to escape the hellish no-man’s land via the only route available.

  ‘I tell you what, why don’t you finish?’ I turned to the SpR. ‘You seem to be very sure of what’s required here, so over to you now. I’ll just observe the master at work, if you don’t mind.’ I inclined my head slightly and stepped back, gesturing at the inert body in front of me.

  I thought he was going to pass out with fear, but he did as he was told, shouldering the public bollocking of being forced to complete the op with my standing over him, arms crossed – thus saving my arse in the process.

  No one dared to speak to me as I scrubbed out afterwards. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was still furious or maintaining appearances for my now-cowed audience. As I swept off back to the office I realised I was frightened. Irritating though the SpR had been, really I’d doubted myself at the table because of the way Julia had made me feel. I was going to have to speak to her about everything now, whether she liked it or not.

  I blasted into the room – to find it empty. She’d left for the day. So apparently had Tan. Both of their desks were clear. I leant against the wall in frustration. I’d really wanted to talk to her. I’d wanted to—

  ‘Ah! Good! You’re back,’ said a voice behind me. I turned to see Hamish, stood alongside an exceptionally pretty girl – mid-twenties – holding her hand out to me. ‘Can I introduce our new secretary, Michelle? Michelle, this is Nathan Sloan, the last of our team for you to meet. He’s been down in surgery all day.’ Hamish withdrew back to his desk and sat down as we shook.

  Her strong, slightly sickly perfume was already filling the room – reminding me a little of Storm. She was wearing too much make-up, but her wide eyes were eager, mouth generous and her slightly plump figure pleasingly ripe, so I gave her the benefit of my full smile, holding her gaze as I watched her openly wilt, which made me feel slightly better, but not much. In fact it was remarkable how little it meant to me.

  ‘Welcome to the team!’ I sounded more enthusiastic than I felt.

  ‘Thank you.’ She had a high breathy voice that would become irritating very quickly. Better if she didn’t speak at all, really.

  I turned away again, catching Hamish’s eye, who was regarding me slyly.

  ‘No!’ I said, irritated as he shrugged then chuckled. Poor Michelle laughed brightly too – clueless – then trailed off uncertainly.

  It all made me feel very tired and old.

  ‘I’m off home. See you all tomorrow.’ I knew exactly what the reality of sex with Michelle would be: squeally and sugary, ultimately unfulfilling and leaving me with a nasty headache afterwards, as she undoubtedly had some grunt of a long-term boyfriend lurking in the background. But it was irrelevant anyway. I only wanted Julia.

  I was halfway down the corridor when Hamish caught up with me, panting like an old bloodhound, spare flesh swinging.

  ‘OK, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Michelle’s a pretty girl. I thought she might cheer you up a bit. That’s all. Want to talk about it?’

  I glanced at him. ‘I’m not sure you want to listen.’

  ‘Ah, Julia,’ he said. ‘I see.’

  ‘I don’t know what to do to fix it,’ I blurted. ‘I told her I love her and she thought it was a line. She thinks I’m everything I have been until now. She doesn’t trust me and I’m frightened that she’s never going to give me a chance to prove myself.’ I paused; my heart was starting to race. I felt suddenly quite sick at the memory of how close I’d come to chopping out all of that woman’s chest muscle earlier – the kind of error Julia would never make. ‘I did some thinking last night; maybe I should do something to make her realise I’m a good person. What do you think about MSF?’ I loosened the top of my shirt. ‘It’s like a bloody oven in here today!’

  Hamish frowned. ‘It’s no hotter than usual. And you mean Médecins Sans Frontières? As in, going off to be a medic in a conflict zone?’

  I nodded. ‘I looked on their website. I speak pretty decent Spanish, French and Latin thanks to the sadistic efforts of the public school system, all of which is to my advantage, apparently.’

  Hamish stared at me. ‘I know they have a very distinct hierarchy in place, to keep their staff and volunteers safe. If they say you can’t leave the compound, even if you are desperate, you have to do as you’re told. I think you’d hate that. There’s also the small matter of going somewhere that would put your life in significant danger, when you have a young son and wife who need you here. And two daughters who hardly see you as it is.’

  ‘MSF have lower risk missions too. I checked. It’s not all up to the wire stuff.’

  ‘Sure,’ Hamish shrugged, ‘but I think there are… less dramatic… ways of making Julia appreciate your intentions towards her are genuine.’ He smiled. ‘I think you’re just going to have to give her some space.’

  ‘I want to show her I can change for her; that I already have!’

  ‘Of course you do, but softly, softly catchy monkey. She knows how you feel now. Sit back and let her come to you in her own time.’

  ‘You really think she will?’

  ‘I know so. You’re YOU!’ He offered me a fist bump, which was just… the saddest thing. I was bloody glad no one was in the corridor to witness my being forced to return it.

  ‘You don’t think I’ve already blown it then?’

  ‘Of course not! I know it isn’t a strength of yours, but you’re going to have to be patient. Let everything calm down and then let’s see where the land lies. It’s just going to take time. Come back in and grab a quick glass of water. You look a bit—’

  ‘A bit what?’ I blinked and wiped my face. My skin was slightly clammy. The stre
ss of having nearly ballsed up that op… I exhaled.

  He smiled. ‘Nothing. Forget it. You’ll be fine. Just take your time driving home, yes?’

  I nodded. ‘Thanks for listening, Ham. And I’m sorry I was a shit to you over the weekend.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘You’re right. I do need to sort myself out.’

  ‘Will you also come to the office and take the cameras down this week, please?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ He patted my back. ‘Remind me if I forget, but of course I will. No problem at all.’

  I thought about what he’d said as I stepped out through the double doors of the hospital and made my way to the car. I wanted Julia to understand me, that was all. My phone rang as I was putting my seat belt on. Stefanie. I declined the call and closed my eyes briefly.

  I really did need Julia, so very, very badly, in spite of how she’d treated me earlier. Reaching for my phone, I messaged Hamish, asking him to forward the beach picture to me. I was almost certain he would still have it – despite my asking him to delete it. I assured him I wasn’t angry that he’d kept it. I just wanted proof that I hadn’t imagined her response.

  Sure enough, the image followed. I looked at us kissing. There she was… in that split second before everything changed. I started to feel calm. She had kissed me back. There was no doubt in my mind.

  If I was patient, she would come to see that I wasn’t teasing her and that I meant every word; I was in love with her.

  I could do that, no matter how long it took. I could be good.

  For the first few weeks doing a lot of exercise got me through. I was at the gym every day before or after work. I’d suddenly explode with energy and anger in the middle of a session on the treadmill; headphones jammed in, music loud enough to deafen me, as a track would drop and I’d start pounding, like the devil himself was on my tail and catching up fast. Or I’d suddenly sprint like a mad thing along the very long, very straight path by the river under a sulky sky while out for a run; somehow seeing myself from above, getting faster and faster – pushing and pushing… until I’d literally drop, panting, sweating – exhausted. It was the only way I got a moment or two of release and the only thing that stopped me from marching up to her on a daily basis at work and sweeping her into my arms.