Charlotte Hawkes - A Surgeon For The Single Mum

‘You have a daughter?’

His voice was even, just as before. Perhaps the silence had only been in her own head.

‘Nell. Short for Eleanor. She’s thirteen.’

‘Thirteen? You must have been...’

‘Just turned eighteen.’ She didn’t mean to sound so snappy, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘Yeah, you don’t have to do the maths. I’ve lived it. Now you know why I don’t date. Why I won’t date.’

Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it wasn’t the words which came next. Or the soft, almost melancholy tone.

‘Difficult age, thirteen. I imagine she hasn’t taken kindly to the move?’

She floundered. ‘Um...no. Not really.’

‘She’s acting out?’

It was less of a question, more of a statement. As though he knew. And there was something else, too. Effie couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but if she’d had to hazard a guess she might have thought that he didn’t like the fact that he knew. That he felt it was a connection between them which he didn’t want to feel.

Hadn’t Hetti once told her that Tak had spent much of his childhood taking care of his younger siblings—not just the usual big-brother-as-playground-protector stuff, but all the tasks that a parent would ordinarily do? If that was true then it had to be hard for him to shake that responsibility, even now they were all grown up.

It was certainly hard for herself, trying to let go of the past. Trying not to let it cloud the way she dealt with Nell. Trying not to let her own life experiences turn her into an over-protective mother. But maybe she was just imagining it. Either way, it was all she could do not to nod in agreement and wonder...

‘What makes you say that?’ she asked.

‘Because you were agitated when I met you in the lobby. Like you’d had a run-in with someone. I assumed it was the teenage lads I saw hanging around outside.’

‘Those lads are fine. And the place isn’t that bad. It’s a desirable city-centre location. Besides, it’s the closest thing I could find to Nell’s new school on such short notice.’

‘Desirable is a matter of opinion,’ he disputed. ‘So the run-in was with someone else? I’m thinking it was with your daughter. Nell. Want to talk about it?’

‘Nope.’ But she couldn’t fault him for being astute. It was impressive, really.

‘It might help.’

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again. Surely she shouldn’t be discussing this with him, an almost stranger? Effie wanted to shut the conversation down, but found that she couldn’t. There was something about Tak, about those broad shoulders, which suddenly made her think how nice it would be to get another perspective and some adult support.

She did, however, find herself tugging on a stray thread from her clutch bag. A habit she’d formed decades ago, when she was anxious and unhappy. Or feeling cornered.

‘I don’t see why I would talk about it,’ she managed stiffly.

‘Because everyone needs to talk sometimes.’

She might have believed him if she hadn’t caught the flash of irritation in his expression. However fleeting it had been.

Being a foster kid had made her sensitive—some might argue over -sensitive—to when people were asking questions out of a sense of obligation rather than any actual desire to hear the answer.

What she didn’t understand was why she wasn’t consequently shutting the conversation down with her usual practised efficiency. Why any part of her was actually considering opening up to Tak Basu, of all people. It was madness.

‘Who says I don’t already have someone to talk to?’ She twisted her mouth before catching herself. ‘If I need to, that is.’

‘Maybe you do.’ He shrugged. ‘But I think you’re too pent-up...too defensive. As though you’re trying to deal with too much all by yourself. A teenage girl comes complete with a wealth of complications. Trust me—I know.’

For a moment his eyes met hers, deep brown and filled with understanding, as if they were stealing her very soul. And it hurt simply to breathe.

Effie didn’t understand what was happening. Not inside this car, and certainly not inside her . She had the oddest sense of... connection . As if something was binding them and she didn’t understand what it was.

Then the vehicle stopped, and she realised they had arrived at the gala. Plastering a bright smile on her lips, she tore her gaze away and injected an upbeat note into her voice. ‘We’re here—shall we go in?’

He didn’t answer straight away, and the moment stretched out tautly between them until he finally inclined his head. ‘As you wish.’

And as the driver opened their doors to let them out Effie told herself that she was relieved.

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