Since it seemed unlikely that George would speak first, Marcus said, “I’ve come to a decision about Africa. I wanted to let you know that I’ve finally made up my mind to join Mr. Greenfield’s team. I’d be grateful if you could release me in three months’ time.”

Chandler-Powell said, “I take it you’ve been to London and spoken to Mr. Greenfield. No doubt he pointed out some of the problems, your future career among them.”

“Yes, he did all that.”

“Matthew Greenfield is one of the best plastic surgeons in Europe, probably among the six best in the world. He’s also a brilliant teacher. We can take his qualifications for granted—FRCS, FRCS (Plast), Master of Surgery. He goes to Africa to teach and to set up a centre of excellence. That’s what Africans want, to learn how to cope for themselves, not to have white people going in to take over.”

“I wasn’t thinking of taking over, just of helping. There’s so much to be done. Mr. Greenfield thinks I could be useful.”

“Of course he does; he wouldn’t otherwise want to waste his time or yours. But what exactly do you think you’re offering? You’re an FRCS and a competent surgeon, but you’re not qualified to teach, nor even to cope unaided with the most complicated cases. And even a year in Africa will interfere seriously with your career—that is, if you see yourself as having one. It hasn’t been helpful to you staying here, and I pointed that out when you first came. This new MMC—Modernising Medical Careers—makes training schemes far more rigid. Housemen have become foundation-year doctors—and we all know what a mess the government have made there—senior house officers are out, registrars are specialist surgical trainees, and God knows how long all this will last before they think of something else, more forms to fill in, more bureaucracy, more interference with people trying to get on with their jobs. But one thing’s certain: if you want to make a career in surgery, you need to be on the training scheme, and that’s become pretty inflexible. It might be possible to get you back on stream, and I will try to help, but it won’t be if you’re gadding off to Africa. And it’s not as if you’re going from religious motives. I wouldn’t sympathise if you were but I could understand—well, if not understand, accept. There are people like that, but I have never thought of you as particularly devout.”

“No, I don’t think I could claim to be.”

“Well, what are you claiming? Universal beneficence? Or postcolonial guilt? I understand that’s still popular.”

“George, there’s useful work for me to do. I’m not claiming anything except this strong conviction that Africa would be right for me. I can’t stay here indefinitely, you said that yourself.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking you to consider carefully which way you want your future career to go. That is, if you want a career in surgery. But I’m not going to waste breath trying to persuade you if you’ve made up your mind. I suggest you think it over, and for the present I’ll take it that I shall need a replacement for you in three months’ time.”