Most other surgeons would have been annoyed, or snapped back, or even turned on their heel and left. Dr Prince apologises. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says, and he looks like he means it. ‘I had a really difficult case. I got stuck in theatre. But I can see that Kitty has been looking after you.’

I raise my eyebrows at the use of my nickname, and he looks over at me and smiles. I find myself smiling back.

‘She’s a very good doctor,’ Mrs Wilde says loyally.

‘I know she is,’ Dr Prince says. ‘She’s going to help me with your operation.’

I nearly fall over.

‘So, you are going to operate?’ Mrs Wilde asks hopefully.

‘I think so,’ Dr Prince says. ‘I looked at your scans this morning, and I think we can probably manage it. It’s in a very unusual place for this kind of tumour, the third ventricle of the brain. Extremely rare. I’m worried about the risk of hydrocephalus, as well as other things. I’ll have to run it by some other doctors first—we always consult with the rest of the multidiscipinary team before undertaking a major operation.’

Mrs Wilde starts to cry. Mr Wilde thanks Dr Prince gruffly; he sounds as if he’s on the verge of crying too. I realise even I have tears in my eyes.

Dr Prince and I leave the Wildes and walk through the darkened ward together. We stop at the doors. There’s an awkward pause.

‘Sorry I missed the operation the other day,’ I say. ‘I got a bit caught up.’

He looks at me. It’s weird; he doesn’t say that much, but when he does it always seems to mean something. Even though our encounters are brief and I always seem to be doing something embarrassing, when he looks at me it’s always directly in the eye.

‘I heard,’ he says, something else in his voice. ‘Did your senior doctors come and help you? How long did it take them to get there?’

I want to tell him the truth, that I’d been left alone on the ward while Mr Waters nearly bled to death, but I just mutter that it all worked out in the end.

He leaves it, but I know that he knows.

‘Thanks for understanding, anyway,’ I say, and without thinking I reach out and touch him on the arm.

He looks down at my hand on his arm. I quickly snatch my hand back.

He doesn’t say goodbye. He just pushes through the doors and walks quickly away, leaving me standing there staring at his retreating figure.

I go to the doctors’ room and grab my bag, then walk home.

For some reason I can’t put into words, I’m feeling down. When Winnie asks me why I seem so morose, all I can say is, ‘It’s been a long day.’ I slump onto the couch, completely exhausted.