Betrayal. That is what Edward feels as he heads up the newly carpeted stairs to the first floor. Anger and betrayal. Samuel always has it so easy, as if his life was greased ahead of him before he was even out of the womb. His family connections eased his way into St Peter’s whilst Edward trails behind at the less prestigious St Luke’s, fighting tooth and nail for every tiny foothold. Yet this was supposed to be a joint initiative, showing the two hospitals working together, hand in hand, for the greater good. If only Edward had arrived at St Peter’s earlier, he would have caught the end of the lecture, would have seen what Samuel was doing. He curses, though he knows the fault does not lie with him.

Later, on his rounds at St Luke’s, Edward sees the eager faces of his young students hanging on to his every word. He is respected and liked by them – but it is not enough. He needs more students to pay for his lectures, more patrons for his private practice and, most importantly, a senior and salaried role at one of the more prestigious hospitals. He has been spending beyond his means for some time, investing in his future, in their future together, his and Annie’s. Their union came, he believes, with the promise of his ascension in the medical world and he cannot bear to disappoint her.

The operating theatre in his own hospital is empty as Edward pushes the heavy door open and steps inside. The newspaper stated that over a hundred attended Samuel’s lecture – Edward is lucky to have seven on his rounds with him. And yet, deep down, he knows he is as talented as Samuel – if anything, more accomplished. He breathes deeply, lets the fire of his ambitions restore him before noting the inscription high up on the wall. Miseratione non mercede. For compassion not for gain. He must have seen it a hundred times or more, but today he feels reprimanded by it and bows his head to pray. He has found that he has taken to praying more regularly of late. He is a good man, is he not? Perhaps then the Almighty will hear his prayers, reward him accordingly. Edward’s lips move silently as he prays for the helping hand of God, prays for his wife to be blessed with a child.

The sounds of the city outside, thinly muffled by the brick walls of the hospital and the chatter of sparrows on the glass roof, accompany Edward’s pleas until a thud interrupts his thoughts. He looks up to see a large, grey-headed bird, russet and white-barred chest, yellow unblinking eyes, pinning down a cock sparrow with razor-sharp talons. Edward is not squeamish, he could hardly have become a surgeon if he were, but he has no stomach to watch the raptor pluck and devour its meal and so, after a last look around the empty operating theatre, he returns to the wards.