“Look, I just wanted to apologise for my behaviour back there,” he said.
The room took a collective sigh of relief. Finn enjoyed the freedom it gave him and carried on talking.
“It was out of order and I shouldn’t have let my emotions get the better of me. It won’t happen again. We worked well in there today and did the best we could as a team. The cancer won this time, but we will fight again another day. Thank you and again, I’m sorry.”
Finn felt as light as a feather. The anaesthetist came over and shook Finn’s hand.
“It was the first surgery, and a darn-right difficult one at that, you’re right to get emotional. Perhaps leave the tray where it is next time though, hey?” he joked, trying to lighten to air too.
Finn nodded.
“Hopefully next time I won’t need to send it flying,” he said, and they nodded respectfully at each other.
Finn had never felt this camaraderie before. Mostly he left the closing up and the finishing to his team and was scrubbed out and back in his office before they were done. He had never wanted to join in the joviality in the locker rooms because he had always thought it better to keep his front where people could see and fear it. Yet now he was here in the locker room with his team, Finn was enjoying it. He felt like his team respected him more, which was weird. He had always thought respect could be earned by distilling fear because that was how he had done it for so long, but this was a totally different kind of respect. One he felt was deserved.
“I’ve got a debrief with the psychotherapist in the morning, and we will have to share with the other participants what has happened today, but they will know that we all tried our best. Thank you, all. My emails are always open if you need to ask me anything. And I’ll see you again at the surgery next week.”
A murmur went around the room and Finn put his head down and got on with changing his clothes. It wasn’t the low key, angry murmur that he was used to, it was a light and breezy chatter that picked him up and took him along for the ride.
Finn pulled the laces on his trainers tight and wondered why on earth he’d spent his whole time in Norfolk Coastal General being an angry idiot to all the people around him. When all it had taken was one wonderful woman to free him of his behaviour.
Edie had said she couldn’t tell him why she’d run away, but Finn needed to know, and he needed to know it wasn’t because of his past. Maybe it was to do with what she’d said about her ex-husband, and he, Finn, was just being selfish at thinking Edie fleeing was anything to do with himself at all. Maybe all hope wasn’t lost after all. He needed to speak with her. He said a farewell to his team and headed back to the haven of his own office. He may have been enjoying the camaraderie, but it was still exhausting after the morning he’d had.
“Moira, can you bring me the files for the other two patients please?” he said, as he passed her open door.
She was filing some papers away and waved a hand in acknowledgement at him as he passed. A few minutes later they were on his desk, next to a hot cup of coffee.
“Thanks, Moira.” He took a sip of the coffee and breathed deeply.
“Sorry to hear about Mrs Harper, Finn. It’s a sad day for her family but I’m sure they are all grateful to you for everything that you tried.” Moira smiled at him, her lips painted bright orange today, matching her hair.
“I hope so. I felt angry at what had happened, but Edie soon brought me round,” he said, catching himself at the last minute. “I mean Doctor Fletcher.”
Moira gave him a wry smile and pointed to a small note folded on his desk.
“Speaking of Doctor Fletcher, she dropped that round for you earlier. Asked me to let you know she’d spoken to the family and they were now off to say goodbye to Georgina.”
“You let Edie into my office?” he asked, wondering why the thought made him feel so uneasy.
Moira nodded.
“She was only in here for a second. I didn’t think you’d mind, sorry.”
Finn shook his head and Moira dismissed herself. He took a look around his bare office and hoped Edie hadn’t thought it too stark. Perhaps he could do with adding a few pictures or a calendar, anything to take away the feeling that this office could belong to anyone.
He unfolded the paper and his heart soared.
Finn, never forget, you are good enough. E
Edie smoothed down her wide legged trousers and adjusted the Breton top she had tucked into them. They were tight around her stomach, and looking from the side, Edie thought she looked like she’d already eaten three helpings of breakfast that morning. Still, while she could get away with it, she would carry on wearing tight fitting clothes. She wanted to look good for work. And for Finn, if she was honest with herself, which she hadn’t been for the last few days.
Seeing him so helpless at the situation after surgery yesterday had really hit home to Edie just how vulnerable Finn was, and just how insensitive she had been in running off the night before. She also knew that her feelings for Finn were not going to go away, even if she asked them nicely. The confusion Edie was feeling was tantamount to the pain she felt when trying to run with sandy legs not that long ago. Every thought, every feeling, was mixed up with Finn, and Edie was sure it wasn’t just her errant hormones playing games because he was super cute.
She wolfed down her breakfast and gulped a cup of decaf coffee, then grabbed her bike and made her way to work. There were no surgeries organised for that day, Mr Bates—the next patient to go under the knife—was booked in for early the next week. Edie and Finn were going to be meeting with the two other trial patients to go over the results of the day before, and to regain consents, as had been written into their contracts if there were any major outcomes.
Edie thought a death was a pretty major outcome as she locked her bike and strode into the airy hospital and to her office. She had just enough time to grab another decaf and then figure out where they were meeting the Bates. Considering Edie had only been in the job for a matter of days, she felt she had certainly hit the ground running. She’d worked out where the toilets were on her first day, very important when the little life growing inside her was quite often pressing on her bladder.
But the warren of offices and teaching rooms, surgeries and clinics was still very new to Edie, and she didn’t mind admitting to herself that it was all still incredibly daunting.
