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she moved in closer to remove the envelope pinned to a rail. It was addressed to her. In it, John apologised for all the pain and distress he had caused, not only to her but to his constituents as well. He understood their anger but hoped that in time they would come to see that it had been a genuine error of judgement.
    Melissa looked up at the body, her eyes showing a mixture of frustration and anger. ‘A suicide note …’ she murmured, ‘and you bloody typed it.’
     
     
    Steven was sitting with his feet up, reading the paper, when Tally got home at six thirty. ‘Here as promised,’ she announced. She was slightly flushed from hurrying.
    ‘Well done,’ said Steven. He got up and gave her a hug. ‘A whole evening to ourselves. What takes your fancy, dinner or a movie?’
    ‘Why don’t you choose? I’ve been the one working late all the time.’
    ‘Dinner,’ said Steven. ‘We haven’t had the chance to sit down and talk for ages.’
    ‘Okay, I’ll shower and make myself smell nice while you decide where we’re going.’
    Steven’s suggestion of Italian was warmly received by Tally. ‘Any particular reason?’ she asked.
    ‘I thought we might go to Bar Firenze. We enjoyed it last time: noisy, cheerful, chaotic, and Italians make great sweets.’
    ‘And I can flirt with the waiters.’
    ‘While I have a second sweet.’
    ‘As if I would,’ said Tally, sidling over and putting her hands on Steven’s shoulders, ‘when I’ve already got the best.’ 
    ‘Madam is too kind,’ said Steven, kissing her lightly on the lips. ‘Come on, hurry up. Time and pasta wait for no man.’
     
     
    ‘So how was your day?’ he asked as they sipped an aperitif. He thought he saw a questioning look appear briefly in Tally’s eyes. ‘Isn’t that what people like us say?’
    ‘Yes,’ she conceded, disappointed at the implication that he might be playing a part. ‘I suppose it is. My day was hectic, stressful, frustrating and thoroughly unsatisfying as they all are these days in a health service that’s falling to bits. I spend half my time dealing with management demands that I tick boxes and meet targets stipulated by politicians who don’t actually give a damn about anyone but themselves but are determined to create the impression that they do. It’s all about image. Substance doesn’t matter as long as things look right on the surface.’
    ‘I wish I hadn’t asked. But if that’s the case, it does leave a rather obvious question begging to be asked, doctor …’
    Tally looked thoughtful for a moment, as if considering a slap-down , but then decided that the question did merit an answer. ‘Because … there comes a time, through all the shit and management crap, when it’s just me and a sick kid and I’m the one who can make the difference … and when I’ve made it and the kid walks off the ward, trailing his little Thomas the Tank Engine suitcase behind him and Mum and Dad have that look in their eyes – that special look – there’s just no feeling like it.’
    Steven swallowed and nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
    ‘How was your day, doctor?’
    Steven gave an apologetic shrug, trying to avoid giving an answer after what had gone before, but Tally’s expression made it plain she was waiting for one. ‘I attended a management meeting this morning. The company knew about the agreement over vaccine production we heard about this morning on the radio. It’s considering a big change in emphasis.’ 
    ‘You mean it’s going to tender for the manufacturing contract?’ asked Tally.
    Steven nodded.
    ‘You’re right; that is a big change in emphasis. I hope they’ve thought it through.’
    ‘Although it’s not a party political thing, they seem to think that the fact it was a Conservative initiative might well help the party’s cause in the election. They see that as a good thing.’
    ‘I suppose it might even influence me,’ said Tally. ‘How about you?’
    ‘I won’t be