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was three years ago.’ Thea never talked about Bangladesh. She was surprised that Michael even knew she’d been there, but she supposed her CV must be on file somewhere.

      ‘Are you telling me you’ve forgotten what you learned there?’

      She would never forget. The suffering she’d seen at a TB clinic, during her first short trip, had drowned out the clamour of her own breaking heart. Lucas’s dream had become hers, and she’d known she’d have to return.

      Two years later, she’d realised that dream and travelled to Bangladesh to work. And then the traumatic, unforgettable lesson that had destroyed everything and brought her back home. But that was history now. She had to move on.

      ‘If you’re planning to have someone else lead the hospital team, then I’d like you to consider me as a candidate. I think I’m qualified to do it.’

      Michael nodded, his self-satisfied smirk a sure indication that the conversation was going the way he wanted it to. ‘I’m glad you think so, because I was considering offering you the position. It’s conditional, though.’

      ‘What’s the condition?’ Something about the way that Michael said it warned Thea that she wasn’t going to like it.

      ‘The conference I spoke about last week. The one you’ve expressed no interest in.’

      Thea’s heart sank. ‘The one in Mumbai, where you’ve been asked to present a paper on the spread of TB in inner London.’

      ‘That’s the one. Only the request was for a representative of this department to present a paper. My name wasn’t mentioned.’ Michael paused, looking at her steadily. ‘Most people would jump at the chance.’

      Thea wasn’t most people. ‘I thought it went without saying that it should be you. You represent the department.’

      ‘I lead the department. Which means it’s my job to encourage my staff to realise their full potential.’ Michael leaned back in his chair. ‘It’s up to you. If you want to head up the team you have to be prepared to share what you learn, and the conference will be good experience for you. Take it or leave it.’

      She wouldn’t get another opportunity like this again. If she really cared about what she did … There were so many reasons for saying yes, but they still couldn’t crowd out the dread that accompanied the thought of standing up in front of a lecture hall full of people.

      ‘I’ll take it.’ The words almost stuck in her throat, but she managed to get them out.

      ‘Good. In that case, I want you to keep me in the loop and let me know what resources you’ll need.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She may as well start now. ‘With regard to the testing at the school, we may well be able to do that in a few weeks’ time.’

      ‘Why’s that?’ Michael knew as well as she did that best practice would be to wait for ten weeks, the incubation period for TB.

      ‘The patient’s been off work sick for a while. He was diagnosed as having pneumonia and was at home for three weeks before Easter. His GP gave him antibiotics and he responded to those, but he didn’t go straight back to work because it was only a few days until the end of term. His condition got worse again after Easter, and he hasn’t been back to work since.’

      ‘So that’s … how long?’

      ‘No contact with any of his pupils for seven weeks now.’

      Michael nodded. ‘In some ways that’s a blessing. We won’t be besieged by parents, wanting to know why their kids aren’t being tested immediately.’

      ‘Yes, but we’ll …’ Thea grinned. ‘I mean I’ll have my work cut out to get all the contacts notified and everything in place for when the testing does start.’

      ‘Then make sure that you use all of the support that’s available from outside agencies. Do you need any help with your other caseload?’

      ‘Not at the moment, but I’d like to keep that offer in hand. And I want to give some thought to where we’ll seat the team and do the testing. I want to set up a separate clinic.’

      Michael nodded in approval. ‘All right. Let me know when you’ve decided and I’ll deal with the red tape.’

      Thea already had somewhere in mind but she needed to see her patient first. ‘Thanks. Is after lunch any good for you?’

      ‘I have some time at one o’clock. If that’s soon enough for you.’ Michael gave her an amused look, which Thea ignored. He’d given her this job, and she was going to prove to him, beyond all question, that he’d made the right choice.

      Dr Lucas West drove through the main entrance of the hospital and down the ramp into the underground car park. He was not supposed to be here until tomorrow morning but his afternoon meeting had ended early, and in his experience one could learn a lot about a place by just wandering in unannounced at the end of a working day. He wanted to see the way that Michael Freeman’s department ran when it wasn’t expecting a visit.

      And the fax he’d received that morning was worrying. A case of tuberculosis was always a matter of concern, but a teacher in a large, inner-city school demanded his immediate attention.

      The hospital was fifty years old, built with all the irrepressible optimism of the nineteen sixties. Since then it had clearly taken a few knocks, and although Lucas noted that it was scrupulously clean, he also saw that it was outdated in places and groaning under the number of people that it served.

      He also noted that the receptionist in the department for respiratory medicine directed him back downstairs again, when he identified himself as a consultant, sent by PHE. He would have to have a word with whoever was in charge here. Clearly no one had thought much about the logistics of having a potentially large number of clinic attendees walking from one end of the hospital to the other and then back again to find the place they were meant to be going.

      He found the room number he’d been directed to at the end of a long, dingy corridor. Ignoring the ‘Please Knock and Wait’ sign taped to the door, he walked straight in, the door handle turning and then coming off in his hand.

      She’d cut her hair.

      Suddenly every thought, each one of his resolutions to sort this mess out, was blanked from his mind. There was nothing else other than the unexpected realisation that Thea had cut her beautiful hair.

      For a moment she didn’t recognise him. That hurt even more than the corruption of the memory of Thea’s corn-coloured hair spread out like liquid sunshine.

      ‘Thea.’ He supposed he should say more, but right now that wasn’t an option.

      ‘Lucas.’ She seemed to be coping with the moment better than he was. Or perhaps that was just what he wanted to think. He was probably just a distant memory to her, and there was nothing for her to cope with.

      She walked towards him, stretching out her hand, more self-possessed than she’d been seven years ago. Thea had clearly learned to conceal her feelings, and that was yet another loss. Seven years ago she would have either rushed to hug him or aimed a punch at him. Either would have been better than this.

      ‘My door handle.’

      ‘Oh … Yes.’ He dropped the handle into her palm, careful not to brush his fingers against hers.

      ‘Thank you.’ She turned away, as if that was the only thing that interested her about him, and picked up a screwdriver from the windowsill.

      Lucas reminded himself what he’d come here to do, and where in the chain of command he intended to be. ‘I’m here to see Michael Freeman. He’s co-ordinating the TB response team.’

      She nodded, slipping past him and kneeling in front of the open door. ‘No, I am. Put your foot there, will you?’

      Lucas planted his foot against the

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