Several weeks had passed since the dissection. Evangeline was glad that she spent so much time in Vincent's company; they had grown closer as a result. It pleased her to discover that he wasn't so shy after all. In fact, he had been more than obliging and discussed his character openly. He revealed that he had three siblings: two older brothers and one younger sister. He had gone on to explain his hobbies and interests, many of which Evangeline shared. Even insignificant details such as his favourite style of coffee - which was black - she knew.
Despite the positive encounters, she felt somewhat guilty. She had accused him of being secretive and it was she who was secretive now. At present, she knew more about his character than he knew of hers. Unlike her accusation, her reticence was not intentional. Evangeline found Vincent so captivating when he spoke that it completely escaped her mind to elaborate on her own disposition.
She felt defeated; she had previously longed for an opportunity to speak with him and when the occasion presented itself she made ill use of it. Now they had no time, she had to return to the criminology lab and had to continue to teach. On the days when they did meet - either at the train station or the university - they were often not in each other's company long enough to speak. It was impossible to engage in polite conversation when they lectured - the situation would not allow it. It was so strange, to be so close to one another but unable to take pleasure in a discussion, everything they wanted to say had to remain unsaid.
Was Vincent as keen on pursuing her friendship? He seemed perfectly cordial when they met. When the circumstances prevented them from being in each other's company - or the distance was too great between them that shouting would be considered useless or impertinent - he would offer a smile and wave. The gesture was simple enough, but it cheered her up more than she cared to admit.
On one occasion, when she was about to disembark the train from work - and had almost given up all hope of seeing him again - she heard him call her name. She was momentarily confused and a little embarrassed; she hadn't seen him on the platform edge or expected him to call upon her. She hoped that he hadn't spent a long time waiting.
Vincent approached her directly, greeting her with his usual fondness. He inquired about her well-being and family and was relieved to hear that they were all doing well. His interest in her health had never come as a surprise to Evangeline - he was a doctor after all.
She wondered what his intentions were. He had been exceptionally busy in the past few weeks. Why now would he seek her out? Perhaps, he needed her expertise again or, he had something of importance to discuss. She did not think he harboured any tender feelings towards her. When they had met, he gave no inclination of wanting to pursue a romantic relationship. He had been friendly and courteous, nothing more. This train of thought quickly made her feel uneasy; she had not discussed the state of her affections with him. Over the past month, she had grown to admire him greatly: not just for his looks, but for his wit and gentle manner. She had tried to dismiss her feelings, again and again, but - in the end - could not. Instead, She found herself grasping at any glimmer of hope that his feelings were the same as her own.
"Are you busy this evening?" he ventured, now walking alongside her.
Evangeline struggled to hide her disappointment. She was busy, but could not let this opportunity go. Who knows when another occasion such as this would present itself. If she rejected his offer and declared that she did not have the time for him, it would leave the bond they shared in ruins. She would have to think of a resolution.
"Evangeline?"
"A little. I can make time for you, though." She reassured him, "Why do you ask?"
He smiled at her. "I wanted to see you. We haven't spoken recently and I admire your company-"
Evangeline was surprised, she thought his coming was because of a different motive. She did not suspect that he desired her company at all, in fact; she thought quite the opposite.
"- May I ask what you're busy with?"
She nodded and obliged him.
"I'm still moving in." She started, "I had hoped that I'd be finished by this evening, but that's not the case. The building work has been delayed and now I can't move in fully... To add to this, I have nowhere to stay. I can't ask my family as they have their own tasks they need to get on with, and I don't want to be a burden."
She paused for a moment and considered her options, "... I suppose I'll have to find a cheap hotel."
Vincent took pity. There was little possibility of finding a hotel with vacancies at this time of night.
He returned his attention to her. He had learned a great deal about her character over the last few weeks and discovered that expressing her misfortune did not come easy to Evangeline. It was this sudden openness which caught him unawares. Why would she confide in him? He was not displeased, on the contrary, he admired it.
"That is a problem," he mused, tapping his lip with his knuckle.
It would be unkind of him to not offer her his help, particularly after confiding in him. He did not think she'd refuse it.
"You are welcome to find respite at my home," he started, "I feel we have known each other long enough for that to be a viable option, would you not agree?"
Evangeline nodded and took a moment to thank him for his kindness; it was quite unnecessary. He could have offered her his sympathy and done nothing more. She wondered how many of those in her acquaintance would have done the same? Another question came to mind whilst they continued to walk: Why was he so willing to help her? She knew that this situation would cause him some hardship; she wasn't naïve enough to believe differently, did he have a motive? Or was she looking too deeply into his kind nature? - She couldn't say.
Evangeline promised herself that she would make it up to him once she had finished her stay.
She would have to return home and pack her suitcase before heading to his cottage. She had never heard him discuss his home, and she wondered what it looked like, although, it seemed unwise to stay in a house which she had never seen nor visited.
Vincent offered to accompany her on the walk back, which she accepted. He continued the conversation - just like before. Again, he seemed perfectly polite, even amiable and - dare she say: charming. They would, occasionally, engage in a playful exchange: She would tease him or exercise her wit, and he would be decidedly coy. She would smile, especially after she had caught him admiring her. She found it fascinating how a single look could carry such clear emotion. His gaze did not possess the longing of desire or the burning intensity of lust; Instead, his gaze was soft and gentle, comparable to the eyes of someone caressing one's cheek. Perhaps that was what he was envisioning.
Did he share the same affections she harboured? Or was reading too deeply into his character again? - If only she knew him better. Yes, they were better acquainted than before, but their friendship was still new. Both of them had a lot to learn about each other's character.
Evangeline wondered what he must think of her at present. She hoped that he was not displeased. She did not think of herself wholly without merit - she wasn't unattractive - but she didn't possess the beauty which her co-workers and friends flaunted. Her career did little to recommend her to others. They had come to the conclusion that Evangeline's job was a respectable one, but something must be amiss for her to enjoy such a morbid atmosphere; even her mother shared the same view - despite wording it differently - 'eccentric' is the descriptive she would use. She hoped that Vincent didn't share the same perspective.
Evangeline sighed and turned her thoughts towards more practical matters.
Her curiosity surrounding the dissection hadn't subsided in the past weeks. She had since re-examined the police report and found nothing conclusive, if anything, it left her more confused than before. The man - then labelled as missing - was found, face down, in an abandoned boathouse along the coast of Fairbourne. He was pronounced dead on site. The cause of death: hypovolemic shock.
This information alone didn't confuse Evangeline; it was consistent with the appearance of the corpse. What confused her was the circumstances of his death. For a man who bled out, there was hardly any blood surrounding him - only a small splatter originating from the lacerations in his neck. The investigators dismissed several scenarios: he wasn't dragged into the boathouse because there was no trail and it couldn't have been suicide because the wounds weren't self-inflicted. Murder seemed to be the most plausible option, but it didn't explain the bite mark. There was no bruising around the puncture holes and no imprinting from other teeth.
It was so strange; she thought. The circumstances that lead to this death were difficult to determine. Despite the investigators' best efforts, they archived the case, classifying it as unknown. At first, she was glad to discover that they had archived the case. She hoped it would offer her some consolation. But that was not to be, this case stoked her curiosity - more so than anything before. Did Vincent read the police report, too? Was he just as curious?
It was then she heard Vincent address her.
"Are you prepared for the dissection tomorrow?"
Oh, she had almost forgotten. Her mind had been so occupied as of late, that she paid very little thought towards the final cadaveric dissection. She longed to not make a fool of herself. She didn't want to fear Vincent's scrutiny.
This wasn't her first visit to the operation theatre - she had been once before. Its remembrance gave her pleasure; she could picture the old, tiered seats and marble floor. The theatre was grand, far grander than any other she had visited. She wondered if it had been renovated.
She responded to him with a nod.
"Yes, let's hope it's not as strange as the last one." She teased, nudging him in the side with her elbow.
He gave a sheepish smile and rubbed his neck. Perhaps her sense of humour wasn't to his taste after all.