St Matthew's Passion: A Medical Romance Read Free Page B

where Fin had operated in time to repair the carotid artery on the right-hand side. She’d had other injuries, including a broken leg which accounted for her limited mobility, but the neck wound was the one that would have proved fatal. Post-operatively she’d healed well, and all things being equal, Melissa was anticipating discharging Mrs Reynolds today.
    After an initial exchange of pleasantries, Melissa was running through a standard checklist of questions – had there been any new swelling in the area, was there any lingering dizziness or lightheadedness – when she noticed Mrs Reynolds casting glances at her husband.
    ‘Is something wrong?’ Melissa asked.
    ‘It’s just…’ The older woman looked at her husband again, who shrugged slightly. Mrs Reynolds faced Melissa.
    ‘It’s nothing personal, dear. I’m sure you’re a lovely doctor, and a very good one. But… I really was hoping to see Mr Finmore-Gage.’
    ‘I know.’ Melissa smiled. It was a familiar request. Patients always wanted to see the most senior doctor, and who could blame them? Melissa herself would probably be the same if she needed medical help. ‘But I’m afraid he’s busy with his own clinic right now.’
    The silence stretched out. Mr Reynolds coughed awkwardly, looking at his feet.
    Mrs Reynolds said, ‘He is here, though. And he said to me that if he’s here when I come up, he’ll see me personally.’
    Melissa kept her smile. ‘I’m really sorry, Mrs Reynolds. But I’m perfectly qualified to see you.’
    Immediately she regretted saying it, thinking it must have come across as insufferably pompous. Mrs Reynolds tottered to her feet again, her husband jumping to help her.
    ‘ I’m sorry, doctor,’ she said primly. ‘But I’d rather wait outside until Mr Finmore-Gage is free.’
    Melissa rose, nonplussed. Mrs Reynolds’s husband gave her an apologetic grimace over his shoulder.
    Melissa followed them out into the waiting room. At that moment Fin emerged several doors down, escorting a patient out. His face broke into a broad smile.
    ‘Mrs Reynolds! Good to see you.’ He frowned, peering down at the side of her neck. ‘It’s looking great.’
    ‘Mr Finmore-Gage, is there any chance I could see you, if you have a moment?’
    Fin glanced across at Melissa, who stood helplessly outside the door of her examination room. He gave her a wink and said, ‘Yes, of course.’ Putting out an arm, he supported Mrs Reynolds into his room.
    Melissa went back into her own room, closed the door, and slumped at her desk, glaring at the computer screen. Her face burned.
    What was Fin doing? He must have realised what happened, that Mrs Reynolds had been seeing her, Melissa, and been unhappy about it. The very least he might have done was to express his full confidence in his registrar and urge Mrs Reynolds to consult her, even if he did have the time to see her himself.
    She stared glumly at the display on the monitor. Had she displeased Fin in some way? She’d been in the post eight days, and had completely immersed herself, arriving at the crack of dawn and staying late, and even coming in on Sunday when she wasn’t scheduled to be at work. She had crammed several weeks’ worth of experience into that time, learning an immense amount assisting Fin in theatre and following his patients after surgery. He’d always been courteous towards her, acknowledging her contributions, and hadn’t criticised her or pointed out any obvious mistakes. So why was he undermining her like this?
    Perhaps he was just another macho surgeon, part of the smug old boys’ club, who saw her very presence as a threat to his masculinity. Perhaps he genuinely believed she lacked the competence to carry out so routine a task as to evaluate the progress of a patient’s healing, two months after the operation.
    Or perhaps, Melissa thought, shamefully, she was reading far too much into the situation. There might be an innocuous explanation. Well, there was