The burn is worsening. By now I must resemble a lobster. Thank God the lights are dimmed.

‘Dr Holliday?’

I try not to look too pained. ‘Hi, Dr Lang,’ I say. ‘Ah, yeah.’

‘What do you think?’ His smile widens.

Next to me, Max snorts.

The cheek! I can’t believe the nerve of the man! He knows very well what I think, and it has nothing to do with the angiogram in front of me. For a second, I imagine saying, ‘I think the angio is nowhere near as interesting as Friday night, when I was straddling you topless and you had a huge erection and your hands were inside my pants!’

Instead, I flush redder and mumble something incoherent.

‘Speak up!’ the Joker barks.

‘I think it’s at least eighty per cent stenosed,’ I shout, glaring at Dr Lucas Lang, hating him at the same time as wanting to drag him from the room and rip his trousers off. ‘I guess surgery would be the preferred option.’ (As if I have any real idea what that involves.)

‘Not bad,’ he says, raising his eyebrows.

Despite everything, I grin.

‘He’s so hot,’ Max whispers, nudging me. ‘Wonder if he’d give me a go?’

‘Oh my God, mate!’ I hiss. ‘He’s not fucking gay, all right?’

‘Maybe he’s bi,’ Max whispers again, ‘You never know …’

I kick him under the chair.

‘Fortunately for the patient the stenosis was bad enough that the cardiologists did end up asking the humble surgeons for our assistance. He had three grafts yesterday, and is doing well.’

Everyone looks appropriately morose and gleeful simultaneously.

Lucas smiles, rather smugly. ‘Anything else to add, Katarina?’ He’s staring at me again. The smile broadens.

I glare back. ‘Um, the right coronary seems a bit diseased too,’ I squeeze out painfully.

The Joker snorts. ‘A medical student could have picked that—I’m surprised you missed it earlier.’

‘I’m sorry I don’t have a brain as gigantic as yours and am unable to interpret cardiac angiography before I’ve examined them,’ I snap. ‘I know you can probably tell a patient’s pathology before they even actually get sick.’

There’s a silence, and I immediately, desperately try to grab the words from the air and stuff them back into my mouth. Max squeaks, trying to hold back a laugh, but in the end he doesn’t need to. Dr Lucas Lang guffaws into the microphone and that sets off the rest of the room.

‘You shouldn’t be so mean to your boss,’ Lucas says, still laughing. ‘He’s under a lot of stress, you know, Kitty.’