It was Wednesday the following week and Paul was sat in the school library unable to concentrate. Now that he’d made the decision to ask her, Claire seemed to have disappeared. She hadn’t been in the library all week. He’d spent Monday doing his own homework and then Tuesday doing Mohican and his gang’s homework. It had kept him distracted enough and luckily Mohican, Gavin and their mates were all in the same class, so it was a case of repeating the work but just changing a few of the answers so they weren’t all the same. As Paul was going through the questions, he thought how easy the work was. How were they going to pass their exams if they were still only doing stuff from the fourth year?

Idiots. Well, when he was a doctor, he would show them.

He imagined himself in his white coat striding down the halls of Manchester Royal Infirmary issuing directives, the nurses scurrying to do his bidding, the patients and their families looking at him as if he was God. He had it all planned out. After medical training, he would move through the ranks to be a consultant. A Mr.

He wasn’t a hundred per cent sure which area he wanted to specialise in but he knew it had to be surgical. He was fascinated and regularly imagined his first slice into a human body. His hand, encased in a surgical glove, would be completely still, poised to cut. The whole theatre would be silently on standby for anything he might need for the anesthetised patient in front of him. He imagined the tapered blade slitting into velvety flesh and tissue, followed by cutting and probing, removing and stitching.

When Gavin and his mates were really giving him a hard time, this was the little corner of his brain he escaped to. But now the daydream was even better, because he knew Claire would be by his side. Just then the library door opened, and Paul looked up expectantly, but it was only one of the first-year students dropping a book into the returned items box before slipping back out of the door. Paul returned to his work convinced Claire wasn’t going to appear today so when he felt someone’s presence in the room, he was surprised to see Claire standing in front of his table.

‘Can I join you?’ She smiled.

Oh God, that smile.

He moved his things aside to let her sit down next to him. Glancing quickly at the librarian’s desk, he realised she had gone out for lunch. They were alone and now would be the chance to ask her.

Why couldn’t he speak for God’s sake? Say something, anything!

‘It’s nice to see you,’ he muttered.

Is that the best you can do?

‘It’s nice to see you too,’ said Claire, opening her books. ‘What are you working on?’