She felt privileged to be selected for such a task, her expertise weren't well known amongst the medical community and often overlooked in times of need. Her lack of experience, due to her young age, frequently discouraged seasoned doctors from seeking her aid. With this in mind, to then be invited to a dissection which, would not only benefit the medical community but also educate budding medical students, was a sudden change but not an un-welcomed one.
From the letters she and the doctor exchanged, she had learned that he was highly experienced and had skills beyond his years; this included a teaching degree. To speak the truth, this did nothing to calm her nerves, on the contrary, it had quite the opposite effect. She imagined the gentleman to be old and dour with a strong disliking towards the modern world. What other description would befit a man who still used a handwritten letter to communicate in the modern era?
She had discovered nothing else about the doctor, this was not due to poor research or lack of interest; for such a respectable man he was surprisingly secretive and aloof - well, according to descriptions from his associates. Of course, she had no way of confirming these statements having not met the gentleman.
This doctor had piqued her curiosity and she wasted no time searching for the laboratory door. She was a Medical Examiner by occupation but happily accepted invitations to lecture students, It offered a change of pace and paid reasonably well.
She had arrived at the lab five minutes early, rather than enter too soon she decided to make good used of the time and recollect herself. Her consistent punctuality was one of her most praised characteristics, however, she hoped that wasn't the sole reason why she was selected. perhaps, she confessed, she was intimidated by the circumstances. Her lectures had never been addressed to more than two hundred people at once, she and this doctor would have to lecture double that amount. He must be accustomed to it, she wondered if he could offer some words of encouragement.
She knocked on the door and did not have to wait very long for a muffled reply requesting her to enter. For a brief moment the doctor was adjusting his surgical instruments at the back of the room but after hearing the door open stopped what he was doing and turned to face her.
She was shocked - and a little embarrassed. He didn't look at all how she imagined him and quickly felt her cheeks colour. She wondered how harshly her expression portrayed her confusion. The man she beheld was not old and dour as she expected - in fact, he looked no older than she did, how could a young doctor be so accomplished? It was impossible, to possess such skill that takes multiple years to develop and master. He must have exaggerated his talents or she had made a superior error in judgement and wandered into the wrong laboratory.
She confessed to herself that she felt a little jealous, she was a competitive soul and disliked being inferior to those around her. True, this envy induced competitiveness was not a characteristic to be proud of - but it wasn't wholly without merit. It gave her drive and if she exercised self-control it could be used to her benefit.
She decided after a short hesitation that she had, infact, wandered into the wrong lab. He mustn't be the doctor she was expecting; but she couldn't account for her preconceived image of the man alone, it would be impertinent to dismiss him for his appearance. She would have to broach the subject and discover if he was indeed the doctor she intended to work with.
Before she could ask he greeted her cordially and offered her his hand.
"You must be Evangeline Gardner, I'm Vincent Acula"
His introduction put her mind at ease, she hadn't stumbled into the wrong room.
Evangeline beheld the gentleman before he spoke again and realized how severe her previous judgments had been. He was a foot taller than she was and possessed broad shoulders. She couldn't help but note his clothing, it didn't meet modern regulation: he wore a buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suit trousers, black Oxfords and on his right arm, he bore a buckled, leather tourniquet. Perhaps, her previous assumptions weren't entirely unjust. Did he dislike the modern era as she suspected? or did he simply admire the Victorian style?
Alas, now was not the time to pursue her curiosity. Further information would have to wait.
As he discussed in his letter with Evangeline the dissection would be filmed for his students, the proceeding dissections and lectures would be conducted in front of his students. She was pleasantly surprised, he did utilize technology, after all.
Vincent wasted no time introducing her to the examination table and the cadaver. She regarded the corpse and was surprised at its physical appearance: It was a young, Caucasian male, he died of complications due to shock. He had deep lacerations on his neck, inferior to his mandible and lateral from his clavicle.
This is strange, Evangeline thought, raising a brow. Two small puncture marks were located on his wrist. Were they bite marks? What could have bitten him? Are the two wounds linked? She couldn't say, the paperwork offered no further explanation. This aroused her suspicion but she forced the thought into submission. She was not here to determine the cause of death, she was here for a dissection, nothing more.
Vincent started the recording and went on to explain the aim of the dissection and how it supported the syllabus the students were being taught. She listened to him as he spoke and tried to subdue her curiosity, suppressing all urgent thoughts to the back of her mind.
"I'm lecturing my students on the vascular system and the components within the blood, I'll discuss the physiological implication in greater detail once we come across the key areas," He said in a soft tone, now propping himself up against the table. She nodded in understanding.
Evangeline focused on his hands as picked up a scalpel and began slicing down the torso, creating a Y-incision. His hands glided effortlessly across the corpse's skin, they were not too worn or dry; in fact, they appeared soft and... extremely pale? His complexion was almost indistinguishable from the corpse. Maybe he suffers from a disorder or preferred making himself look pale?
It was evident from his precision that he truly was skilled. Such talent would take years of experience to master, even those who learned quickly and trained from a young age would still be older than him by the time they achieved their Masters. She would have to broach the subject but was conscious of the camera, perhaps she should save such personal questions until after the dissection.
She clamped the chest cavity open, revealing all the structures and soft tissue beneath. Finally, she was able to put her mind at ease, this is what she trained to do and found great entertainment from. Throughout the examination she proved her worth, she was surprised to see how impressed Vincent was with her at present. He later commended her on how naturally she lectured.
They both spoke about the key areas in turns; demonstrating and explaining the layers of the blood vessels, the location of major and minor arteries, the anatomy of the heart, components within the blood and so on. He did, on a few occasions, broach other subjects, such as hematophagy and the circulatory system of the Icefish; stressing that it consisted of clear plasma instead of blood. She found that they didn't directly relate to the topics they were discussing, it seemed he liked to go on tangents, at least this showed he was passionate and well educated.
Hours ticked buy in what appeared to be a matter of minutes. This was no surprise to Evangeline, she found that once she focused on a task she enjoyed, time inevitably passed quicker. She wondered if Vincent felt the same. She hoped for an occasion to speak with him after they had concluded the dissection, perhaps this would present an opportunity to quell her curiosity towards him.
Thankfully she did not have to wait long. Vincent swiftly finished the recording and - with Evangeline's aid - cleared and cleaned the examination table. She was pleased - and not surprised - to see that he took sterilizing the environment seriously. She watched him as he scrubbed and buffed each instrument. Just as he was about to finish he turned his attention to her.
"I'd hate to impose but do you have the next hour free?" he inquired tentatively.
Evangeline couldn't have known the motive behind his inquiry but felt a wave of relief regardless. At least she didn't have to initiate the conversation. Now she could become better acquainted with him. She had to confess, pursuing curiosity was not the sole motivation for wanting to form a more in depth view of his character, she found him strangely attractive. Perhaps, she should feel a little worried about her newly formed interest in such a bizarre man. She admonished herself to keep her wits about her.
She confirmed that she was, in fact, free for the next hour and suggested a walk around the town center or the nearby pier; if that's what he preferred. He politely agreed to the walk on the pier and guided her out of the laboratory. As the weather was pleasant - which was unusual for Wales - Evangeline didn't bring a coat or wear extra layers but was stunned to see Vincent covering as much exposed skin as possible.
"It's 24 degrees outside. Surely, it is too warm to wear so much."
Vincent smiled, acknowledging how strange his behaviour must appear.
"I have Photodermatitis,-" he said, sliding his hands into his leather gloves "- Unfortunately, covering up is the most effective way to avoid triggering a reaction"
Evangeline raised her brows. He's allergic to sunlight? What a limiting, torturous condition to harbor. She couldn't begin to imagine his struggle and how restraining it must be. She wouldn't be able to bear not going outside and being restricted to the confines of her own home, she valued her freedom too much. However, he didn't confess that he suffered from the disease, in fact, he appeared indifferent. If he truly struggled with the condition, he did not show it. He must have become accustomed to living with it. Perhaps, this was the cause for his pale complexion?
As they were about to leave an woman in formal attire approached him. She possessed a tall, slim build. Like Vincent her skin was pale and contrasted with her hazel hair. She was beautiful - Evangeline thought, more so than herself - although she wouldn't admit it openly. The woman beckoned Vincent for his attention, expressing that she had urgent business to discuss with him. Vincent, who was polite enough to appear indifferent rather than annoyed, turned away from Evangeline and lowered his voice.
They did not talk long - at times she heard him become rather agitated. She couldn't have known why and did not wish to eavesdrop on a private conversation. Before the woman departed she shot Evangeline a glare which was very much unwarranted. She was momentarily caught off guard and decided to question Vincent on the matter.
"Does she look at other co-workers like that?"
Vincent nodded, "She's Candice; another doctor. Forgive her for her rudeness. She can't accept that I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with her and dislikes every woman I work with in consequence" He stated.
Evangeline felt indifferent. Candice's feelings were none of her concern. She and Vincent were colleagues, nothing more. It was Candice's duty to take responsibility for her own affections and come to terms with Vincent's rejection, not Evangeline's. She wanted no role in helping her through the process.
She walked outside and Vincent soon fell into step next to her. First, he praised her for her good work and stated how uncommon it was to come across such a conscientious individual and so on.
They continued to engage in light conversation - even quizzing each other on occasion. He asked her questions which she was happy to answer and offered some in return. He was unfailingly pleasant. Evangeline reprimanded herself for wondering why she thought I'll of the gentleman. Perhaps, she should still be cautious - even if just a little - after all, she was not well acquainted with him yet.
"You're very formal", She began, "Do you choose to behave and sound like that? or do you come from a privileged background?" Evangeline inquired.
"I choose to dress this way-", he started, "I didn't have the luxury of a privileged upbringing. I was born in Serga, Russia. My family had little money and no prospects. They spent my childhood saving enough money to emigrate to England."
The emotion he wore on his face was no riddle. Revisiting his past had caused him pain, much to Evangeline's dismay. She felt for the gentleman, she did not have the misfortune of being raised in poverty. She praised him on how well he had done for himself despite his circumstances.
"What about you?" He ventured, changing the subject "Do you live locally?"
She nodded, "I recently moved to Barmouth; it's only a short train journey from here", She said, "I never used to live locally. I actually grew up in the south, in Dorset," She continued, offering him a smile.
Vincent was not surprised. Neither of them possessed a Welsh accent, in fact, their accents sounded very similar.
Silence descended upon the two. They had nothing of importance to say and did not wish to speak for the sake of speaking. To Evangeline's surprise this did not promote awkwardness, it had quite the opposite effect. They felt perfectly at ease in each others company, quietly and peacefully admiring the world around them. The beckoning call of the Seagulls, the steady sound of the sea dragging back the shingle & their footwear hitting the cobblestone were the only things to break the silence. It was all rather pleasant.
Despite being surrounded by tranquility Evangeline's consciousness was writhing. She had suppressed her curiosity long enough and decided to broach the subject foremost on her mind. She had to consider her words carefully. She would be mortified if she caused any ill feelings and destroyed the pleasant atmosphere they had created.
"I've never come across anyone as young and skilled as you. It seems almost unbelievable. May I ask how old you are?"
He chuckled and cast his eyes down at her forwardness. At least he did not feel offended.
"I'm considerably older than I look" He teased, receiving a raised brow from Evangeline in return. For someone as straight-laced as a doctor, he was particularly talented at being coy. At least his evasion did not possess any malice.
Evangeline had expected him to evade the question, but to hear him do so out loud felt quite different. If anything, she found it rather disconcerting. He looked no older than 28. She sensed - from his answer - that he would not appreciate her pursuing her suit further and decided to no longer broach the subject.
By now they had walked quite a distance from the laboratory, she hoped that he had not forgotten the time. The conversations they had, had done nothing to quell her curiosity. If anything she was cast into further distress. If she were to work with him in the following months she would want to be well acquainted with him. At present, he was suspiciously secretive. Evangeline paused and thought for a moment. Perhaps, she had expected too much, after all this was their first meeting. He did appear shy, more so than herself.
Her thoughts returned to the cadaver they had just dissected. She still felt uneasy, the lack of explanation around his death was suspicious. Despite how cordial - and even amiable - she found Vincent to be, she could not deny that something seemed terribly amiss. Perhaps, he was hiding something? His shy and secretive behaviour would support this idea. She knew that the cadaver was acquired legally, Vincent had stated as much and the papers proved his claims. She would have to learn more about his character before casting any lasting judgment.