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colleagues with respect.

      ‘Was that really the first OPCABG you’ve seen?’ he asked when he’d scrubbed out and joined her.

      ‘Your predecessor preferred working on pump,’ she said. ‘So, yes, it was my first off-pump bypass graft. And it was fascinating.’

      ‘And you have questions?’

      ‘Absolutely. Let’s get lunch, and I’ll pick your brain,’ she said with a smile.

      She asked a lot of questions. All bright, thoughtful questions. Luc answered to the best of his ability, and finally she nodded.

      ‘Thank you. I understand a lot more, now. But the most important thing is that you’ve made a real difference to Peter Jefferson’s life.’

      ‘We’re not quite out of the woods yet,’ he said. ‘But I hope so.’

      * * *

      Over the next couple of days, Peter Jefferson moved from the intensive care area to the ward. But, when Kelly came to see him on Friday morning during her ward round, he started crying. ‘This is so pathetic. I can’t understand why I feel like this. I was a finance director, used to making decisions and dealing with huge sums of money, and now I’m crying all over the place and it’s just not me. And I can barely even get out of bed without help.’ He looked despairing. ‘Now I’m just a shuffling old man.’

      She sat on the bed next to him and held his hand. ‘You’ve been through major surgery, Mr Jefferson. Lots and lots of people feel like this afterwards. You’ll have good days and you’ll have wobbly days. But the rehab programme will really help you, because you’ll meet other people who are going through it too or are a couple of weeks further down the line than you are, and that will help you realise that what’s happening to you and how you’re feeling is all perfectly normal. It’s going to take time to get you back on your feet and doing the same things you did before you had surgery, but you will get there. Just be kind to yourself.’

      Luc walked onto the ward at that moment. ‘Good morning,’ he said with a smile. ‘I just popped in to say hello to you before I go into the operating theatre today.’

      Mr Jefferson wiped his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I’m being so stupid.’

      ‘You’ve had major surgery with a general anaesthetic. Of course you feel wobbly,’ Luc said. ‘Tell me, do you play chess?’

      ‘I do.’

      ‘Good. I’ll get a board sorted out and I’m challenging you during my lunch break. I might be a bit late,’ he said, ‘depending on how the operation goes this morning, but I’ll definitely be in to have a cup of tea and a chess match with you, OK?’

      ‘But—you’ll have been so busy this morning.’

      ‘And a game of chess is the perfect way to relax,’ Luc said. ‘As long as you don’t mind me eating a sandwich at the same time. I’m horrendously grumpy if I don’t eat regularly.’

      ‘Thank you, Dr Bianchi. That’s—that’s so kind of you.’ Peter Jefferson wiped his eyes again.

      ‘I’ll see you soon,’ Luc said, patting his hand.

      ‘I need to see my next patient,’ Kelly said, ‘but I’ll pop back later, too.’ She walked out with Luc. ‘That’s really nice of you.’

      ‘I just want my patients to be comfortable.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t suppose there’s a chess board on the ward?’

      ‘Probably not, but I might be able to borrow one from Paediatrics. I’ll get that organised—and a sandwich for you. What would you like?’

      ‘I eat anything, so the first thing you grab off the shelf will be fine,’ Luc said. ‘Thanks, and I’ll settle up with you later.’ He paused. ‘Are you at the team thing tonight?’

      ‘The ten-pin bowling? No, I’m working. Are you?’

      ‘Yes. I thought it’d be a good way to get to know the team.’

      ‘It is.’ She smiled. ‘Have a good time.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      To her relief, he didn’t push to see if she was going to any of the other team events. She liked her colleagues very much—but going out was a strain. Too many people trying to push her into being sociable when she was really much happier here at work, making a difference to her patients’ lives.

      * * *

      Luc spent the morning in Theatre fixing an aortic aneurysm on an elderly woman, his lunchtime with Peter Jefferson, and his afternoon in Theatre sorting out a narrowed aortic valve in a teenage boy suffering from severe breathlessness.

      By the time he got to the bowling alley, he was glad of the chance to let off steam. Though he learned from his colleagues that Kelly hardly ever joined team events nowadays. Because she was still mourning her husband? He needed to tread carefully.

      He didn’t see her again until Monday morning. ‘How was your chess match?’ Kelly asked.

      ‘It was fine,’ he said. ‘I think Peter was glad of the company. He was beating himself up a bit because he was shuffling, and just taking those few little steps exhausted him.’

      ‘Two days before that, he was in Theatre, having major surgery. He’s doing brilliantly,’ she said.

      ‘That’s what I told him. I said that my patients always worry that it’ll take ages to get fully back on their feet, and at the same time they’re terrified of overdoing things in case it makes them have a relapse. How he’s feeling is how all my patients feel.’

      ‘I’ll make sure I reassure him about the rehab sessions,’ Kelly said.

      ‘I assume it’s the same as we did at the Royal Hampstead Free—an exercise programme tailored to the patient and graded so they can see their progress?’

      She nodded. ‘Plus there will be plenty of professionals there, he’ll have a monitor attached during the exercises so we can keep an eye on his heart rate, his blood pressure and his pulse. The team will help each patient progress at the right pace for them, and their safety is paramount.’

      ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Did you see your sister’s scan photo, by the way?’

      ‘Yes.’ She took a photograph from her wallet and handed it to him. ‘They’re going to call the baby Reuben if he’s a boy, and Emma if she’s a girl.’

      ‘Lovely.’ His fingers accidentally touched hers, and again he felt that inappropriate zing. To stop himself thinking about it, he asked, ‘So were you right and Susie had someone lined up to partner you at dinner?’

      ‘Yes, and he was very sweet and very charming. He understood when I explained that it wasn’t him, I just don’t want to date.’ She grimaced. ‘My best friend’s doing exactly the same thing this weekend. She’s arranged pizza and tickets to a stand-up comedy thing for a group of us, and I know I’m going to end up sitting next to the eligible single man in the group. I know they love me and they mean well, but...’ She shook her head. ‘Sometimes I’m so tempted to invent a fake boyfriend, just to get them to back off.’

      A fake boyfriend?

      That wasn’t so very far from the marriage of convenience he had in mind.

      ‘Maybe you should,’ Luc said carefully.

      She wrinkled her nose. ‘Except then they’d insist on meeting him. And it’s not really fair to ask someone to—well, be my fake boyfriend and lie to everyone for me.’

      She could ask me, Luc thought—or maybe I can ask her. He wanted to get to know her a little better first, but he was beginning to think they really could help each other. ‘If you explained the situation to someone suitable, I’m sure he’d be happy to help you out.’

      ‘Really?’

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