Free Neurosurgeon...and Mum! by Kate Hardy Page B

‘Dad’s a cardiac specialist; Granddad was a general surgeon, and so was his father. I never met him, but I do know he served as a medic in the First World War. And one of my great-whatever uncles was at the Crimea.’
    ‘I bet his casebooks would be fascinating. Heartbreaking, but fascinating,’ Tom said.
    He looked as if he was about to ask why she’d chosen neurosurgery as her specialty, and she swiftly changed the subject to avoid the awkwardness. ‘Have you had a chance to explore the coast yet?’
    ‘Not really.’
    ‘The beaches stretch for miles and they’ve been in all kinds of films, and then at Hunstanton there are the famous stripy cliffs. That’s where lots of the fossil-hunters go.’
    ‘Perdy would like that. She had a real dinosaur phase when she was five,’ Tom said with a smile. ‘Every Sunday we had to go to the Natural History Museum to see the dinosaurs.’
    Millie had loved dinosaurs, too, Amy thought with a pang. ‘They found a mammoth in the cliffs just down the road at West Runton when Beth and I were teenagers. We spent hours on the beach here, trying to find our own mammoth.’
    ‘I take it you didn’t?’
    ‘No.’ She laughed. ‘But it didn’t stop us trying.’
    Tom suggested it to Perdy, the following morning. ‘That’d be so cool!’ the little girl said, her eyes widening.
    ‘Want to come with us, Amy?’ Tom asked.
    The invitation was casual enough, but Amy knew she was already getting dangerously close to them both. Better to put a little distance between them. ‘Thanks, but I’ve been slacking on Joseph’s papers, and I did promise Joe.’
    It was a feeble excuse, and she knew Tom saw straightthrough it. He looked slightly hurt, and he didn’t join her in the conservatory that evening, pleading pressure of paperwork—as flimsy an excuse as her own had been. And Amy was annoyed with herself for feeling hurt in turn, when she knew that keeping away from him was the sensible thing to do.
    They kept a polite distance until Wednesday morning, when Amy noticed that Tom was wearing an old faded T-shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms instead of the suit he usually wore first thing.
    ‘Are you not in surgery this morning?’ she asked.
    ‘I’m doing afternoon surgery today—so I’m glad that Perdy’s going to Alexis’s house after school again today. Saves me having to split myself into two,’ he added softly, clearly mindful that his daughter was only upstairs, brushing her teeth.
    She remembered the last time Tom had come back to Marsh End House after dropping Perdy off at school. When he’d kissed her.
    Oh, for pity’s sake, she had to stop this. Be sensible. Hadn’t they agreed that they would be just friends?
    ‘I thought I’d take Buster for a run after I’ve walked Perdy to school,’ he said casually.
    ‘Have fun,’ she said with a smile, then headed for Joe’s study to work on Joseph’s casebooks.
    Mid-morning, Amy was having trouble deciphering the cramped script—no wonder his copperplate handwriting had deteriorated to a scrawl, she thought, given that his wife had just had twins and his practice was expanding—so she went to fetch her camera from her room. She was pretty sure that, if she took a photograph of the page and magnified it on the computer, she’d be able to work out some of the more illegible words.
    But as she stepped onto the landing Tom walked out of the bathroom. Clearly he’d had a shower after taking the dog for a run because his hair was still damp, and he’d changed into jeans and a different T-shirt. She could smell the clean citrusy scent of his shower gel; and without his glasses he looked different. Less vulnerable. Touchable.
    Amy had no idea what possessed her to do such a crazy thing. But she found herself reaching up to touch his face, resting her palm against the curve of his cheek. And then Tom moved, turning his face into her hand; she felt the lightest, gentlest pressure of his lips against her