'What time is your appointment?' Michael enquired in a dull monotone once they were closeted in his office. He knew that today would be difficult for her – in the morning she was likely to be told that she wouldn't operate again and in the afternoon the hospital trust, not her favourite collection of people at the best of times, were meeting to discuss whether she would be allowed to continue as Medical Director following Ric's death. Michael himself would be at the helm of this particular meeting of minds and he knew that this did nothing to allay her fears – she often told him that he was a complete liability when handed a little power as he was in the board meetings and he knew that at least in part she was right. He maintained that he had to choose his battles carefully but the truth was that he believed that a little failure was character building. He always had believed this and he insisted that it was largely why he had trained one of the greatest surgeons in the country, despite the fact that his own skills were decidedly average.

'Eleven' she stated dully, tracing her right index finger up the dressing that lay on her injured arm tensely 'I think we both know that the news won't be good' she added, still refusing to look at him. Every time she looked into his eyes she felt nothing but anger – how dare he still be alive when Ric wasn't? The one good thing in her life had been taken from her and she was left with a perpetual thorn in her side. Up until recently she had not had any particularly strong feelings one way or the other for Michael – since their marriage ended in all but a technical sense several years before she was simply indifferent to him. That was no longer the case – now his continued existence filled her with rage. She hated him – he represented everything she lost and everything she still had. She hated him all the more for he persisted in a strange, utterly misguided belief that now Ric was 'off the scene' and he was currently between secretaries they could pick up where they left off. She wasn't sure whether to be insulted or furious.

'Have you been sleeping?' he asked, his voice remaining neutral as he looked into her exhausted eyes and found the answer for himself. He had known for some time that there was something between his wife and Ric – ironically he was the first and not the last to hear of her affairs. Despite this he was surprised that his death had affected her so deeply – far from being just a bit on the side she was acting as though she had lost the love of her life. He was unsure how much of it was down to guilt but it concerned him that she was so distraught. At the moment she seemed in a worse state then he would have expected had he been the person to get stabbed but he found that incomprehensible. They may have had their difficulties and their differences but they loved each other and no one else could compare. Even when he knew that she was spending five nights a week playing house with another man his belief in his wife's devotion didn't waver. It was unconventional but he still believed that he held the key to her heart. Now he was having to entertain the possibility that he was wrong.

'In the meeting this afternoon' she paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. Attempting to articulate her question in such a way that he wouldn't immediately go on the defensive. This was something that she used to do without thinking but now it seemed like a monumental effort. Now life in general seemed like a monumental effort 'Will you be supporting me?'

'Yes' he answered without hesitation. He chose his battles but if he didn't fight this one the rest would become irrelevant. He saw that today, more than ever, his wife needed him. He saw today as his chance to win her back 'I promise I'll do what's best for you' he added and she gave a small, tension filled gasp. Michael's idea of 'what was best' was not always akin to what she believed was best. Every time that he betrayed her in this manner he insisted that she would come round to his way of thinking but it hadn't happened yet. So the fact that he promised to do what was best did not answer her question about his support in her battle to save her career.

'You do understand that I want to continue as Medical Director' she told him firmly 'so no taking liberties with what you believe to be in my best interests. My job is what is best for me'

'Of course' he nodded 'as I say…' he trailed off as she shot him a warning look that told him in no uncertain terms that to continue would be to seriously endanger his health.

'Don't say it Michael, just get me my job back' she instructed and for a moment he saw a flash of his old wife. Then just as quickly she was gone and her shoulders once again became hunched with more tension than either of them were equipped to handle.

'Do you want me to come with you to see Mr Fashola?' he asked and she looked at him as though he was insane. As though it was utterly crazy for him to want to support her during what was likely to be one of the more unpleasant hours of her life.

'No' she spat 'I have to do this alone. Just behave in the board meeting, that's all I ask'

'Fine' he sighed 'fine. Look, I have to go and talk to Zubin, I need to know where he's coming from on this – Griffin was his best friend. You can wait here until your appointment'

'No' she stood up 'I'll be fine. I'll see you later' and with that she was gone and he was in no doubt that she was about as far from fine as it was possible to be.