Matthew jumped off the swing at the height of its forward trajectory and landed neatly with both feet. He took a couple of steps to the side and turned to me, and at first I thought he had moved towards me in order to avoid being hit by his swing as it swung back but then I saw the expression on his face. Straight away, I dropped my feet to the ground and the soles of my trainers made a discordant scraping sound along the anti-injury rubber surface beneath the swings. I juddered awkwardly to a halt.

He stood in front of me. ‘Why do you have to spoil everything?’ he asked.

Instantly regretful, I tried to joke him out of it. ‘Don’t be daft, I wasn’t, I mean, I didn’t …’

‘Yes, you did.’ He turned and began to walk away.

I pushed myself off the swing. My bag fell off my shoulder as I did and the swing danced a merry jig. Matthew was already striding off down the path. I followed. ‘Matthew!’ I said, a plea in my voice.

He stopped dead on the path, a few metres away, but did not turn around. I was forced to run up to him and stand in his way, looking into his face, searching it for clues. ‘Come on …’

‘Come on what?’

‘It was a joke.’

He gave me a level look. ‘You don’t think much of me, do you?’

‘Of course I do!’

‘That’s what you think, though. Every time I talk to another woman, you think I’m after something. I’m not allowed to have friends or colleagues, women friends, am I? Am I not supposed to talk to anyone? Am I supposed to ask your permission before I send a text?’

I let my arms drop. An enormous weariness came over me. ‘No, I’m not saying that, I didn’t, I just think it’s odd texting a young woman who’s clearly admiring of you, that’s all …’

‘What, I have to account to you for everything I do now, is that it? And she doesn’t “admire” me, as you so euphemistically put it. For your information, she’s thinking of specialising in paediatric care and because that was one of my F1 specialities I’m helping and advising her. It’s what I do, Lisa, I like to help people. I help young men as well as women. There’s an F2 at the hospital, I’ve been mentoring him because he’s unhappy in A & E, I guess you’re not going to object to him. He’s called Robert and he weighs fifteen stone. But as Jasmine is a pretty young woman she’s not serious about her career in your book, is she? Is that how you treat your pupils? Pretty ones not allowed to be ambitious or clever?’