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The SHO managed three obscure differences, but Douglas could only come up with two.

The Prof moved on to their next patient without saying anything but Lindsay prodded Merrin's back, her smile approving. 'Well done,' she said encouragingly. 'House officers don't usually even manage to last till round two.'

Lindsay helped her during the morning with the ward work and in the afternoon they were both kept busy with admissions for Theatre the following day. 'Merrin, you're doing really well,' Lindsay told her over a late afternoon coffee-break once the vast bulk of the work was out of the way. 'Considering it's only your second week, you're managing superbly.'

At Merrin's blankly uncomprehending look, the older doctor continued, 'Truly. You're efficient
and enthusiastic
and a lot more organised than I was at your stage. And you know your stuff. I can tell the Profs impressed.'

Merrin suspected that was an exaggeration but she appreciated Lindsay's kindness. 'He's been tolerant at least,' she said wryly.

'No, it's more than that,' Lindsay insisted. 'He's interested in teaching you. You've made an impression and if you're interested in a career in surgery here then that's important. Are you?'

'I'm loving surgery,' she said honestly. 'But I'm not sure about staying here.' Six months now she could manage but she suspected it would be self-destructive to commit herself to years of working in the same environment as the professor. She had to stay realistic. At present, finding a partner for life wasn't one of her priorities but one day it would have to be. Eventually she hoped for children and a satisfying family life. With Neil McAlister in the background, however distantly, there was a possibility that no other man would come close to interesting her.

'St Martin's has a good surgical training scheme,' she added. 'If I decide to continue in surgery I could apply for their rotation.'

'Merrin, you'd be mad to pass up a chance to work with the Prof,' Lindsay said worriedly. 'I'm not going to pretend that surgery's an easy career choice for a woman because at times it's a nightmare, but he's made it possible for me. When I was his house officer here he was hugely encouraging. He's the first surgeon I've met who's actively pro-women.'

'I've noticed that there are more women surgical registrars here than at St Martin's,' Merrin conceded. 'I think we only had three there and two of them were in Obs and Gynae.'

'We've got more because Prof pushes for them,' Lindsay told her. 'It's purely down to him that I'm going to get a registrar job here next intake. The other surgeons didn't even want to consider me once they discovered that I had two children, but I was the best qualified applicant and he overruled them.'

'If you were the best applicant, you should have got the position,' Merrin said sharply. 'How dare they discriminate?'

'They think we're not going to be as dedicated as the men.' The SHO spread her hands. 'In some ways, at least as far as I'm concerned, they're right. I love my work but my children are always going to come first with me. But that doesn't mean I can't be as good a surgeon as a man would be. Prof understands that. You saw how good he was when I had to go to Ben last week. None of the others would have reacted like that but he doesn't expect us to sacrifice our families for our careers. He realises that with a little flexibility during our training we can combine the two.'

'Do you think he misses not having children of his own?' Merrin asked softly.

'He's so busy,' Lindsay said, shrugging. 'I doubt he has time to think about it.'

'When you said about his wife...' Merrin trailed off, not sure how best to put it. 'Everybody being in shock and all that. Do you think it was because she was a special person or would some of it have been just because her death was so tragic?'

Midway through taking a sip of her coffee, the SHO stopped, her eyebrows lifting sharply. 'What a strange question. What brought that on?'

'Something he said,' Merrin admitted. 'At the time I didn't understand what he meant but I've been thinking about it since—'

'He said something about his wife?' the older woman demanded, looking incredulous. 'He actually talked about her?'

'I asked him what she looked like.'

'And he told you?'

'More or less.' Merrin frowned. 'What do you think? You knew her. Was she so special or was it just that she was so young?'

'Well, I suppose...' Lindsay still seemed shocked. 'I don't know for sure. She was stunning to look at but, I suppose, a little...cold. Merrin, I can't believe he talked about her. He doesn't. He never does.'

'He didn't say much,' Merrin murmured. 'It's obviously still painful for him. What do you mean, "cold"?'

'I don't know if I can define it better than that,' the SHO said finally. 'Douglas always said that she was a very good nurse but...well, I never found her particularly friendly. I remember when I was Profs house officer she used to come to the ward at least twice a day looking for him, demanding to know where he was.'

Obviously interpreting Merrin's dreamy expression, she added quickly, 'And I know that sounds romantic and lovely and I can understand perfectly why she'd want to see him so often, but, still, it was also just a little bit pathetic. And she never bothered saying hello to me. In fact, she was even often a bit hostile. I was here, working for him, for six months and you'd think she might have managed a smile just once in all that time.'

'I think that if I was married to Prof I might just forget everyone else in the world as well,' Merrin said weakly.

'No, you wouldn't.' Lindsay looked very sure. 'You wouldn't and neither would I.'

But, for herself, Merrin wasn't so convinced. On his evening round two hours later she realised she was finding it harder and harder to think of anything but him when he was there. He'd discarded his white coat somewhere and the pale cotton of his shirt was the only barrier between her eyes and the broad masculinity of his chest. Twice on Orange Ward she caught herself simply staring at him, rather than noting his orders, and it was only a warning stare from a frowning Lindsay that got her attention back onto her work the third time.

They went quickly to ICU then down and across to Children's, then back to Orange, where he dismissed them. The other two doctors left promptly but Merrin finished the tasks she needed to do on the ward, then collected the suturing set he'd given her the week before and ventured upstairs to his office.

Judging from their tidy desks, his secretaries had left for the day, but the next door along—the one to his office— was ajar, and she knocked, pushing it open at his quiet command. 'Sorry to interrupt, Prof. This won't take a minute. I wanted to show you my knots,' she explained, holding the suture set in front of her. As with the last time she'd been up here, his desk was strewn with papers and journals, but he was leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed lazily over the other, his eyes shadowed as he studied some notes.

'Since tomorrow's a theatre day I thought you might let me help.'

'OK, Merrin.' He put the dictating machine he'd been holding onto a set of open notes and closed them over it, obviously marking where he was up to, then tilted his chair forward. 'I take it you've been practising.'

'A lot,' she admitted. 'Practically all weekend.' She opened the box out onto his desk, and took out a packet of catgut which one of the Theatre nurses had given her. 'What do you want to see?'

'Run me through your repertoire.'

'I'm afraid it's still a little limited.' Her tongue held gently between her teeth, she uncoiled the thread and passed it through the metal hook in the box. 'I've only studied two knots but I can do them quickly now with both hands,' she explained, and showed him the first, her fingers moving quickly. 'This way,' she said, demonstrating, relieved that the dexterity her hours of practice had managed to achieve didn't seem to be compromised by the self-consciousness his nearness provoked.

'And this way.' She showed him her other knot, tying it higher and then gliding it into place with her opposite index finger, as if gliding it into the depths of a wound.

'Good. That's fine. In fact, that's very good.' He nodded, studying the thread she'd tied. 'Now try this.' He moved around and took the threads and slowly showed her another type of knot, repeating it until she nodded her understanding.

Her tongue between her teeth again, Merrin crooked her index finger across and collected the thread beneath it the way she'd watched him do. 'Like this and then back around,' she said slowly, doing it, clumsy at first but increasingly confident as she repeated the knot with her other hand.

The point of surgical knotting was never to let go of the thread or swap hands and so never risk losing control either of the needle or thread or of what the knot was supposed to be securing inside a wound. 'Is this right?'

'You learn fast.' He went back to his seat. 'Those three will do you for the rest of your career. If there's time tomorrow we'll see how you go in real life.'

'Thank you.' His words nurtured a little sprig of joy inside of her. 'I also came up to see you because I wanted to apologise to you for the terrible things I said on Friday night.'

'Forget it, Merrin.' Abruptly he moved away, back into his chair, his face closing. 'I already have. I'm glad you've realised that you'd mistaken your feelings.'

'I don't mean that I was dishonest,' she said slowly. 'I mean that I simply realised afterwards that I was unforgivably rude. I should have kept my opinions to myself. I'm sorry.'

'Your opinions?' She saw that he looked suddenly puzzled. 'About what, exactly?'

'The things I said about your home,' she explained patiently. 'The awful things I said. About ripping up the carpet and pulling down your wife's ceilings and everything.'

'Isabel's ceilings?' She saw he still looked puzzled. 'But what about the rest, Merrin? What about the other things you said?'

'You mean about wanting to go to bed with you?' Understanding, finally, from the wary way he inclined his head at that that they'd been talking at cross-purposes. 'Oh, no, I meant that,' she said strongly. 'I think that you're the most incredible man I've ever met. I can't stop thinking about you. I want to go to bed with you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.'

Coming
across to work the next morning, Merrin wondered if she should be feeling a little more indignant about the exasperated way her boss had hustled her out of his office the evening before.

But while Neil's haste had not been flattering, at the time the sheer physical impression of his hands on her arms, propelling her out of the room, had been too overwhelming for her to consider anything else. She wasn't offended— she was resigned to him never returning her feelings—but it would have been nice if he'd given her a little more time to express herself.

The round went very fast. She hardly took
her
eyes off him but he barely looked at her. Now and again she was aware of Lindsay looking at her worriedly and she tried to concentrate, but with limited success. She had trouble keeping up with his instructions again but the older woman helped her out. Afterwards the other three promptly disappeared to Theatre but it was after eleven before she got there herself.

In Professor McAlister's theatre they were just about to start on their fourth case, a man Douglas had seen in clinic on Thursday with a bowel tumour. Lindsay was assisting the professor while Douglas worked in another theatre on his own list.

Like the week before, her consultant invited her to scrub and join them, but this time as he divided the mesentery surrounding the bowel he let her swap places with Lindsay so that she could use her knot-tying skills to tie off the vessels and tissue he'd clamped between artery forceps.

'Good. Well done.' Once she'd finished he signalled for the two juniors to change places again. He slapped a pair of forceps into one of Merrin's gloved hands. 'Hold that retractor in your right hand and when you're not doing anything with your left practise fastening and releasing these,' he instructed. 'When you're as good with your left as your right I'll swap you to scissors.'

Again, like the week before, he left them to close the wound at the end of the operation, and while Lindsay did most of the wound she let Merrin sew in the drains and staple the skin.

'Your knots are great,' the older doctor told her, watching the way she was tying the thread to secure the drain. 'I didn't learn to do them that fast until I was an SHO.'

'Prof gave me a knot and suture set to practise with,' she explained. 'It's basically all I did all weekend.'

'You see, I was right about him taking an interest in you,' Lindsay exclaimed, her eyes above her mask pleased. 'Merrin, you should follow up on that. He's a terrific teacher but he doesn't usually push his house officers like that. You must ask him about SHO jobs for next year.'

'I might.' Merrin stood back to let the scrub nurse apply the dressings she'd prepared. But, even leaving aside her own misgivings about working around him long term, Merrin didn't share Lindsay's confidence about her surgical future with the professor. Despite the help he was giving her professionally, she suspected he'd be less than overjoyed at the prospect of her spending another six months the following year under his tutelage.

The anaesthetist had two SHOs and a technician with him for the morning and, deciding not to burden him with another eager pupil, Merrin went through to the staffroom they'd used the week before between cases. Douglas was with the Prof, discussing Ws last case, but a nurse called him away shortly after Merrin arrived and she was left alone with her consultant.

She passed him a plate of biscuits, acknowledging his wary look as he took one with a self-deprecating shrug of her shoulder. 'Prof, if I wanted an SHO job here next year would you give me one?'

'You'd have to go through the normal interview process,' he said evenly, leaning forward to retrieve a
Lancet
from the rack on the table in front of him. 'We take on six SHOs a year. If you prove among the most promising of the candidates who apply, then, yes.'