Some of the registrars are planning to kick on, I notice, but all the consultants seem to be heading home. Lucas is still standing next to me.

‘Ah, are you going for drinks?’ I ask him, not really knowing what else to say now the subject of cardiothoracics has been totally exhausted.

He looks at me. ‘Are you?’

I suddenly decide maybe I should go for a quick drink. It is Friday, after all.

‘Yeah, of course,’ I say, ignoring my cringing subconscious self. ‘As if I’d turn down a Friday night drink!’

We follow the group up the road and I begin to realise that Lucas’s personality is multi-faceted. Now we’re away from the table, he’s less keen on talking about heart operations and more keen to probe me about my personal life.

‘There is this one guy,’ I say, not wanting to go into too much detail, but the wine is loosening my tongue, ‘although, well, I don’t think we’re that compatible.’

Even as I say the words, I see an image of Fabien in my mind and know I’m lying to myself. I quickly try to repress the feelings but all at once I realise that Lucas looks a lot like Fabien. Same height, same honey-brown eyes, same big white smile.

No wonder I think Lucas is so hot. What on earth am I trying to re-create here? Is this some desperate grab at memories and happiness?

‘Anyway …’ I clear my throat. ‘Let’s talk about something else.’

‘How long have we known each other, Katarina?’ Lucas asks as we walk around the corner, slowing down ever so slightly so the distance between the two of us and the rest of the group starts to increase.

‘Years!’ I reply. ‘Remember when I was your student and used to come and watch you in theatre?’

He laughs. ‘And you always used to tell stories about some guy you were seeing and what a disaster it was.’

I laugh too. ‘God, I really need to learn how to keep my mouth shut!’

‘I like that about you.’

The group is now so far in front of us that I can barely see them. We’re also dangerously close to the corner of North Avenue.

Every single intelligent part of my brain is screaming at me. My subconscious is screeching so loudly I can barely hear myself think. This is a terrible idea. Stop this now. Jack Prince is still lying in hospital. Another doctor recently tried to kill herself. You’re just drunk. Lucas Lang is extremely bad news. He’s too hot and too married (maybe separating, a rogue voice whispers) and too sexy. He just looks like Fabien, this is all this means. Honestly—when will you learn? Behave yourself! Behave!

‘Gosh, we’re right near my house!’ I hear my voice saying.

We both stop walking.