Ethel, having been submerged in blood and bandages, was relishing the opportunity to simply be a nurse without the intense pressure of Millais scrutinising her work. The freedom to make mistakes and having the unrestricted knowledge on how to put it right gave her an almost God-like feeling, and she enjoyed washing off the red stains from the operating table, almost as though she were washing away her troubles. It was only when she heard loud footsteps approaching that she returned to reality.

Her surprise at seeing Dr. Culpin enter only grew when she realised his expression was far from civil.

'You were unavailable to help, I hear,' he said brusquely without even greeting her as a gentleman of his, or any, rank would have.

'I was attending to a patient and I couldn't simply leave on a whim,' she explained, finding her voice rising as her anger sizzled below the surface.

Millais shook his head, evidently not believing a word of it.

'A whim? I needed urgent assistance as a female patient refused treatment from a male member of staff. I asked for a moment of your precious time to help. The least you could have done was be polite enough as to come when I asked.'

Ethel could say nothing in response, so stunned was she at being accused of doing her job. How could he possibly stand there, looking so superior, and have the audacity as to blame her for being a nurse! It was not her fault that she had changed her mind about being a doctor – if he was disappointed then it was his own fault for raising his hopes above and beyond what she could ever have achieved.

'I will not apologise for my behaviour. I was unavailable to assist and therefore I asked another nurse to go instead. That is all,' she replied, looking him straight in the eye. He did not unnerve her, even if he was a highly esteemed doctor and... looked rather handsome when riled, and she wished to show him that she was just as capable of standing her own ground as he.

She saw his jaw lock as he ground his teeth together, and she felt the sudden urge to slap him across the face for being so candid and boorish. He had no right to speak to her in such a manner, no matter what had previously transpired between them. He may have kissed her, and she may have responded to that kiss, but that did not make her his to do with as he pleased. He did not own her.

Realising the cloth which she was still holding was now dripping onto the floor, Ethel quickly squeezed it into the basin and carried on scouring the table, far harder than she had been doing before. Millais watched her, transfixed on her elegant hand now gripping the sodden rag like a vice, and could hardly believe such a petite woman could have such strength within her.

'What are you doing?' he asked, having meant to simply think it. He stared at her, dumbfounded that she could so easily switch off from their heated argument without saying anything more, even if it was just to dismiss him.

Ethel slowed before looking up, her eyes showing no emotion. It intimidated him a great deal to find she was coping with this far better than he was.

'I am cleaning the operating table, as I am sure you are already well aware,' she said acerbically, her voice as cold as ice. She had no energy left to fight against him.

'I wasn't aware our conversation had finished,' he replied, sounding almost like a small boy who was lost. Her other hand ached to reach out and hold him to her, but she refrained, knowing that the time for such intimacies had passed them by.

'We have nothing left to say to each other, Millais. And I am still very busy-'

'You don't know what I really came here to say...'

'No, but I do know that I am tired of listening. If I was needed so urgently before, then why are you here and not there?' she enquired, and he was tempted to tell her how he felt as a response. He knew she would have nothing to say in return to that, but somehow, to use his strengthening feelings for her simply to stop her talking seemed cruel, and he wanted those words to come when they were both blissfully happy, rather than when they were at each other's throats.

'Harry is perfectly capable of looking after things by himself,' he said finally, knowing it to be a poor explanation.

Ethel shook her head, surprised and disappointed at Millais' apparent irresponsibility. He should have known better.

'Harry is a junior doctor and inexperienced. You are his mentor, Millais, and you need to be there for him, even if it is just to instil confidence into him. He needs the support of a senior doctor, and you aren't doing that.'

Silence descended on them and neither knew what else to say. They had both said and done things they regretted, but it seemed far too late to retract it all now.

'I'm not just his mentor, though, am I?' Millais finally said, looking at her for the first time with soft, calm eyes. But she knew, behind those eyes there was a motive for these words, and it irritated her to the point of screaming, knowing that he was still thinking of her as his student.

'I see no other junior doctor in this hospital.'

Millais paused before saying what he had been about to say. If he did, he knew there would be no turning back. They could never be anything more than doctor and nurse afterwards, and yet he couldn't help himself – it was intolerable just watching her throw her dreams away because of him.

'Then you're not looking hard enough,' he replied, and with that he turned and left, leaving Ethel reeling behind him as he retreated.