Free Neurosurgeon...and Mum! by Kate Hardy

‘Sorry, my fault. I didn’t mean to press you. And thank you for talking to me—I can put my patient’s mind at ease now.’
    ‘That’s good.’
    ‘And I have to admit, I enjoyed talking medicine with you. I’ve missed being able to do that.’ It was more of an admission than he should’ve made, he knew, because Amy looked tense again. ‘Sorry. I guess I’d better leave you in peace.’
    She shook her head. ‘I’m not pushing you away. It’s just…’ She sighed. ‘Look, I’m not going to dump my problems on you.’
    ‘That’s what friends are for,’ Tom said softly. ‘I know we don’t know each other very well yet, but I think we could be friends.’
    She gave him a loaded glance. ‘Just friends.’
    Yes, he was attracted to her. Very. But he wasn’t going to act on it. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone. And if he agreed with her now…then that would save them having to have a seriously awkward conversation about that kiss. Maybe then they could pretend it hadn’t happened. Retreat into safety. And he could take cold showers to dampen any inappropriate thoughts about how much he’d like to kiss her again. How much he’d like to touch her, feel her touching him. ‘Just friends,’ he confirmed, lifting his glass. ‘Here’s to you and me. And friendship.’
    ‘You, me and friendship,’ she echoed, lifting her own glass.

Chapter Six
    A FTER their agreement on friendship, things settled down. Amy still found herself looking at Tom and wondering what it would feel like to kiss him again, but she kept herself in check. It was the wrong time for both of them. Maybe if they’d met in other circumstances, things would have been different, but, here and now, she knew that friendship was all they could offer each other.
    Perdy’s friend Alexis came over after school on the Thursday; they made white choc-chip cookies to have with home-made strawberry ice cream for pudding, and Amy was surprised by how much she enjoyed the domesticity of it all. In London, she never had time to bake or potter around in the kitchen; and it was just as well her flat didn’t have a garden or it would be overgrown with weeds. Whereas, here, she found that she actually enjoyed twitching weeds out of Cassie’s garden and watering the tomato plants in the greenhouse.
    It was odd to think that, had things been different ten years ago, her life might have been more like this. She might have been living in Boston or maybe back in London, but she wouldn’t have gone home to an empty flat every night. She would’ve come home to a family. Even ifshe did love her flat and it was in a smart riverside development, she had to face the fact that it was still empty.
    She’d pinned everything on her career. And now that was over…what did she have left?
    Maybe her boss was right, she thought wryly, and she did need counselling.
    Perdy and Alexis were playing in the garden and Amy was about to call them in for a drink when she overheard Alexis ask, ‘So is Amy your mum, then?’
    Uh-oh—she really should’ve asked Tom how he normally dealt with questions, so she could step in and protect his little girl.
    But Perdy seemed matter-of-fact as she answered. ‘No, my mum caught a fever and died last year when she was helping sick people in Africa.’
    So it wasn’t a divorce. It was much, much more final than that. Amy’s heart bled for her. How did you get over that kind of loss, at such a young age? But there wasn’t a catch of pain in the little girl’s voice; it sounded as if she’d come to terms with things. Perdy seemed a lot more resilient than Amy herself felt right now. Or Tom, for that matter.
    ‘Oh. So you haven’t got a mum,’ Alexis said.
    ‘No, but it’s OK. She never used to be around much anyway. Dad’s cool,’ Perdy replied. ‘He tells the best bedtime stories.’
    Amy stored that away to tell Tom later, when Perdy was asleep, knowing he’d appreciate the compliment. And maybe it might help to heal