A Surgeon for the Single Mom

‘So...let me see...four days ago?’

Effie loathed the way the older woman made such a dramatic show of counting back the days. She smiled cheerfully and made herself sound as breezy as she could.

&nbs

p; ‘Must be, yes. Anyway, I should leave you to enjoy your morning drink in peace.’

Tak’s mother smiled, though it was too sharp, too edgy to be sincere. And still it locked Effie in place.

‘I wouldn’t dream of it. Sit down—tell me about yourself and how you met my son. I understand that you’re a doctor, too?’

She could still go. Ignore the woman’s instructions, turn around and leave. Tak’s mother was intimidating enough, without the fact that Effie was hardly even dressed. But if she went it would feel like a retreat, or that she had something to be ashamed of. And Effie couldn’t explain it, but she didn’t want to feel ashamed of anything that had happened between her and Tak.

And so she stayed, quietly moving around the kitchen to make herself a coffee and then discreetly pulling the shirt as low as possible and sliding into the seat across the table from Mrs Basu.

Only then did she finally speak.

‘I’m a trauma doctor with the air ambulance,’ Effie confirmed neutrally. ‘I take patients to several hospitals in the area, including the Royal Infirmary.’

‘Quite an impressive career. You don’t look much older than Hemavati.’

Effie recognised the test. She offered a light laugh, as if she hadn’t noticed. ‘Hetti’s barely twenty-six. It’s many years since I was that young.’

‘I see.’ The other woman sipped her coffee carefully. ‘So, then, are you all about your career, like Talank, or do you imagine yourself having a family?’

‘You don’t need to answer that, Effie.’

Effie jumped at the sound of Tak’s voice over her head.

‘That’s an incredibly personal question, Mama.’

‘Talank.’

The older woman’s eyes narrowed as she tilted her cheek up for her son to kiss. Tak obliged, albeit stiffly, formally. It was a duty and a mark of respect, but not a sign of love. More than she would manage with her own mother, though.

For a moment Effie’s stomach knotted into a tight ball. What must it be like to have a mother look at you differently? Feel differently about her child? Tak hadn’t had it and neither had she. Did Nell know how much she was loved? Effie panicked. Had she succeeded in ensuring her daughter felt it every day of her young life?

Before she could stop herself, Effie opened her mouth. ‘Actually, I already have a family, Mrs Basu. I have a daughter. Eleanor. Although I usually call her Nell.’

‘You have a baby?’ The woman’s gaze slammed into her like a hard, stinging slap.

It was all Effie could do not to raise her hand to her cheek, to check that the older woman hadn’t, in fact, made contact. She took a moment to breathe, but to her surprise, Tak stepped in seamlessly.

‘Nell is thirteen. She’s a warm, friendly young girl, and a credit to Effie.’

‘Is she here?’

‘Effie and Nell were here whilst the repairs to their home were being dealt with.’ He inclined his head, his tone firm, smooth. ‘They moved back last week. Not that it’s any of your concern.’

Tak’s mother’s eyes narrowed, as if in triumph. ‘So you’ve left a thirteen-year-old girl alone in an apartment whilst you and her mother frolic here?’

It was bait, and even though everything in her screamed at her not to rise to it Effie felt her face heat with anger. ‘Nell’s at a friend’s house,’ she snapped. ‘It’s her friend’s birthday and she’s having a sleepover. And I am not frolicking.’

‘Do you have a reason for coming here, Mama?’ Tak demanded, his tone clipped.

Effie felt him cover her hand with his soothing touch.

‘Or are you simply at a loose end because Father has dragged you over to the UK for some conference or other?’