Neurosurgeon . . . and Mum!. Kate Hardy

And it made her wonder what it would be like if his hand cupped her face properly and his head dipped so his mouth could brush against hers. How his mouth would feel against hers—warm and sweet, or hot and demanding? Something in the curve of his lips told her that Tom would be a passionate lover.

      She really had to stop this. Talk about inappropriate. And hadn’t they already agreed boundaries?

      ‘I’d better sort dinner,’ she said quickly, panic lancing through her, and disappeared into the kitchen.

      She’d regained her equilibrium by the time she called Tom and Perdy for dinner.

      ‘This is really nice,’ Perdy said. ‘I love spaghetti. It’s my favourite.’

      ‘Mine, too,’ Tom agreed.

      This was so much like the times Amy had spent with Colin and Millie. She’d even cooked Millie’s favourite meal, acting completely on automatic. All except the ice cream. Forgetting where she was for a moment, Amy said, ‘I was thinking about making some ice cream this weekend.’

      ‘Please can I help?’

      Perdy had the same brightness in her eyes that Millie used to have whenever Amy had suggested a baking session. The memories put a lump in her throat so she couldn’t speak for a moment; but when she glanced at Tom she could see he looked surprised. Clearly Perdy didn’t usually ask something like this. Given that they’d had a rough year—and Amy guessed that the little girl had gone into her shell—it would be cruel to knock her back. And yet the idea of sharing a kitchen with the little girl, getting close to her…

      Tom came to her rescue. ‘Perdy, honey, I’m on duty tomorrow morning, so you won’t be here.’

      ‘Am I coming to the surgery with you?’

      He shook his head. ‘I was going to ring one of your friends’ mums to see if you can play there for the morning and maybe your friend could come here and play in the afternoon.’

      ‘But I haven’t got any friends,’ Perdy said quietly.

      ‘Oh, darling.’ Tom scooped her onto his lap and held her close.

      Amy could see in his face that he had no idea what to say, that he was too shocked and dismayed to respond.

      And she’d been in Perdy’s shoes. She knew exactly what it felt like, not fitting in as a kid. How could she possibly stand by and watch the two of them hurting like this, when she could do something to help?

      She reached over and took the little girl’s hand. ‘Sure you do—you have your dad and Buster.’ The thought of what she was about to offer made her voice wobble slightly. ‘And me. I mean, we don’t know each other very well yet, but we both like Buster and we both like ice cream, and that’s a start to becoming friends.’

      Perdy’s eyes were full of tears. ‘But you’re busy.’

      ‘With Joseph’s papers?’ No, she was hiding behind them. She shook her head. ‘It’s up to me when I work on them. Actually, I was going to get some strawberries tomorrow. If your dad doesn’t mind, you can come with me to the shops and then we’ll make the ice cream. And if he’s not home when we’ve finished, maybe we can do some baking.’ Something Millie had loved doing. And Amy had missed that so, so much.

      ‘Can I, Daddy?’

      ‘I…’

      Amy could see the doubt in his face. Well, of course: she was practically a stranger. Or was he worried that they were encroaching on her time? Was Perdy’s mother a high-flying career woman who was always too busy, never had enough time? She gave him a smile that felt just a bit too quivery. ‘As the saying goes, trust me, I’m a doctor.’

      He still looked worried, but then nodded. ‘Thanks for the offer.’

      Given what Perdy had just said, he didn’t exactly have any other options. ‘Look, I’ll give you my mobile number. If you give me yours,’ Amy said, ‘I can text you to let you know when we get to the strawberry fields and again when we’re back here.’

      ‘Right. Thank you.’ Tom looked slightly relieved, but still wary.

      And Perdy’s eyes were full of worry.

      Just what had happened to the two of them? Amy wondered. Despite the agreement she’d made with Tom, she needed to know—to make sure she didn’t make things worse for Perdy.

      

      Later that evening, when Perdy had gone to bed, Tom came to find Amy in Joe’s study. ‘Thank you for what you did at dinner,’ he said. ‘I’ve met some of her classmates’ mums at the school gate and thought one of them, who seems very nice, might help out. But when she said she didn’t have any friends…’ He still felt sick at the memory. ‘I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say, how even to begin to comfort her.’ He sighed. ‘Oh, hell. I’ve made the wrong decision, bringing her here.’

      ‘Not necessarily—children are more resilient than you give them credit for.’

      He frowned. ‘Were you a paediatrician? Child psychologist?’

      ‘No, I wasn’t. I’m talking from experience.’ She paused. ‘I’m trying to respect your boundaries, but there’s something I need to ask you.’

      Yeah. And he knew what it was going to be. ‘What’s that?’ he asked, playing for time.

      ‘I need to know,’ she said, ‘which topics I need to avoid with Perdy. Anything that’s going to bring back bad memories or upset her. I’ll try to stick to neutral things—dogs and books and baking—but kids have a habit of coming out with stuff you’re really not expecting.’

      Just like Amy herself had. And how come she sounded so clued up about kids? The way she’d acted the night before, Tom had thought that she was the type who concentrated on her career and avoided kids because she didn’t know how to deal with them. But today she’d offered to do things with Perdy that he knew his daughter would absolutely love—and the way she’d offered, it was as if it was something she was used to doing. ‘I’m trying to respect your boundaries,’ he said carefully, ‘but why did you offer to look after Perdy?’