Neurosurgeon . . . and Mum!. Kate Hardy

exactly where she was.

      ‘Perdy, this is Miss Rivers.’

      Miss rather than Doctor. Did he know that she was a qualified surgeon? Or hadn’t Joe and Carrie told him that she was a medic of any kind? Not that it made much difference. She wasn’t a neurosurgeon any more.

      ‘Hello, Miss Rivers,’ Perdy said dutifully.

      That sounded so stuffy and formal. Completely not how Amy was. For a moment, she was tempted to offer her own first name; then her common sense kicked in. Keep your distance. Formality would help her to do that. She gave the little girl a polite smile. ‘Hello.’

      ‘Joe and Carrie are Miss Rivers’s aunt and uncle. She’s staying here for a while,’ Tom explained.

      Perdy looked worried for a moment, and then carefully made her face blank. ‘Does that mean we have to go and find somewhere else to live?’

      It sounded as though they’d moved around a bit, and Amy could remember being much happier here as a child because she was settled for the summer instead of dragging round after her parents with nobody to play with. Guilt flooded through her. What was the old saying? What goes around comes around. Joe and Cassie had been kind to her. She really ought to offer the same kindness to Perdy. It wasn’t the little girl’s fault that her presence brought back memories of Millie and a sense of loss that Amy would prefer to suppress.

      ‘No, darling, it just means we’re sharing the house,’ Tom said, ruffling her hair.

      ‘So I can still play with Buster?’ Perdy asked.

      ‘Absolutely,’ Tom reassured her.

      Amy should’ve guessed that Perdy would respond to the dog in the same way that Amy herself had responded to Joe and Cassie’s dogs as a child. Guilt twisted in her stomach again. But this wasn’t her problem and she had enough to deal with. She had nothing to offer a lonely little girl. Right now, she had nothing to offer anyone.

      ‘Are you here on a summer holiday, Miss Rivers?’ Perdy asked.

      ‘Sort of.’

      ‘Perdy, you’re asking too many questions,’ Tom said quietly.

      The little girl flushed, and shut up.

      Amy raised her eyebrows at Tom. OK, so she didn’t particularly want to talk about why she was here, but he could have just distracted his daughter instead of putting her down like that.

      He looked right back at her, and Amy found herself flushing as deeply as Perdy when she read the message in his eyes. Just who did Amy Rivers think she was, to judge him?

      He had a point. She hadn’t exactly helped matters, had she? And he was clearly trying to do his best with his little girl.

      ‘I’ll, um, let you get on,’Amy said. ‘I just wanted to introduce myself, that was all. See you later.’ She fled for the sanctuary of Joe’s office.

      Though not before she heard Perdy ask Tom, ‘Did she go because of me?’ And she could almost see the wobble in the little girl’s lower lip, the distress on her face.

      ‘No, honey, of course not. She’s just got things to do,’ Tom said.

      Which made Amy feel even more horrible inside. She’d have to find some middle ground. Surely she could be kind to the little girl, without taking down the barriers round her heart?

      She’d make the effort, later.

      Just not right now, when all the memories had come back to shred her heart all over again.

      Chapter Three

      THAT evening, after Tom had settled Perdy in bed, he walked into the living room and saw Amy curled up in a chair, reading a book. In Perdy’s favourite chair, Tom noticed, the one with a view through the French doors into the garden. Amy was completely engrossed in the words, just like Perdy always was when she had her nose in a book.

      And he was intruding.

      ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you were here,’ he said, and began to back away.

      She looked up. ‘It’s not a problem. If you want to watch the television or something, that’s fine. You won’t disturb me.’

      ‘No. But my daughter clearly does.’ The words were out before he could stop them, and he kicked himself mentally as colour shot into her face. Couldn’t he have found a more tactful way to broach the subject?

      ‘I’m sorry I was a bit abrupt with her,’ Amy muttered.

      Tom knew he should accept the apology and leave it. But, now he’d started, he couldn’t stop himself. Amy hadn’t even had dinner with them that evening—she’d made an excuse and shut herself away in the study. And for some reason Perdy had got it into her head that it was because Amy didn’t like her—that she was in the way. ‘She’s eight years old. And it’s not as if she’s a spoiled brat or running wild.’

      ‘I can see that.’

      ‘So what is it? You don’t like kids?’

      ‘It’s not that.’

      But she didn’t look him in the eye; it was obvious that there was something she wasn’t telling him. Well, that was her choice. She was an adult, able to make her own decisions; and his main concern was his daughter. ‘Look, I don’t know how long you plan to be here, and I’ll try to keep Perdy out of your way as much as I can, but I’d appreciate it if you could try to be pleasant to her when your paths cross.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’ Amy’s breath shuddered, as if she was suppressing a sob, and the distress on her face was obvious.

      Ah, hell. He’d blundered straight in and made this whole situation worse. Tom raked a hand through his hair. He had to face it, he was hopeless with women. He’d let his wife down, he’d let his daughter down, and now he’d managed to upset the woman he had to share the house with for the next however long. Time to compromise and make the best of this mess. ‘So am I. We’re guests here in your family’s home, and I shouldn’t be having a go at you.’

      ‘I’m a guest here, too,’Amy said. ‘And you were standing up for your daughter. It’s a parent’s natural reaction.’

      He could see the pain in her eyes before she masked it. So was Amy a parent? And, if so, why wasn’t her child with her now?

      It was none of his business. He wasn’t going to pry. But he had to say something. Give her an explanation for the way he’d snapped at her, at least. ‘I’m probably being over-protective. It hasn’t been a good year.’

      ‘Yeah. This year’s been…’ She blew out a breath.

      It sounded as if she’d been through the wringer as much as he and Perdy had lately. So maybe they had something in common after all. He sat down. ‘That’s why we came here. This job seemed like the perfect opportunity—somewhere to make a new start.’

      His admission made her expression soften slightly. ‘It’s a good place,’ she said. ‘I used to spend my summers here.’

      ‘Holiday home?’ he guessed.

      ‘Sort of.’ She grimaced. ‘My parents were always away on lecturing tours, so it meant either being stuck in London with a nanny, or spending the holidays here with Joe and Cassie.’ She smiled, clearly remembering something happy. ‘I loved it here. The house was always full of laughter, and I didn’t have to be quiet in case I disturbed anyone. I had Cassie and Joe and Beth and the boys, I could share their dog—and, best of all, I knew I was here because they wanted me here, not because they were paid to look after me.’

      Amy’s childhood sounded very similar to Eloise’s, with ambitious parents who didn’t pay her enough attention. So had she been damaged the same way as Eloise, Tom wondered, making her desperate to save the world to gain her parents’approval? ‘That’s why I became a GP rather