Reunited By Their Secret Son. Louisa George

him. Pretty much guaranteed to bring a smile to his face. Because right now she couldn’t cope with another tantrum. Right now she wanted to rewind the clock to this morning, have a different start to the day and make her appointment with the other physiotherapist on time. ‘Grumpy, aren’t you? Mr Monster?’

      Her boy threw his head back and giggled. It was such a delicious sound and always made her world a lot better when she heard it. She looked over and saw Finn watching her. Was he doing the maths?

      Her heart contracted in a swift and urgent need to protect her boy. She put her arms around him and held him close. But Finn seemed completely oblivious to what was right in front of his face. ‘You’re still working, Sophie? I heard you say something about it at Reception. A nurse—that’s right?’

      So he’d remembered that at least. Had he remembered anything else? How right it had felt? How crazy it had been to find someone who got you in a city the size of Edinburgh, a country the size of Scotland? That was what she’d thought then. Now she could only think of curse words. She bit them back. ‘Yes. I’m a Health Visitor now, though. I work out of Campbell Street clinic.’

      ‘Ah. A nine-to-five gig?’

      ‘More like eight until eight most days. But yes.’

      ‘You like it?’

      What did it matter to him? What did any of her life matter to him?

      It was hard to believe she was here having a conversation about minor stuff instead of the conversation they should have been having. But not here, not in front of Lachie. ‘I don’t want to take up more of your time than I should. Let’s get on, shall we? It’s all in the notes but I’ll précis for you. It’ll be quicker. Lachie had eight castings to make his feet straight and a tenotomy to loosen the heel cords, which hurt but he tolerated. He wears the boots and bars only at night-time and for his afternoon naps now. I try to make sure he has them on close to twelve hours a day.’ She took the offending plastic boots out of her bag and gave them to Finn. ‘He hates them.’

      Finn’s eyes widened but he nodded. If he was rattled by her he didn’t show it, at least not to Lachie. For that she was grateful. Finn grinned down at the boy. ‘So, Mr Monster, eh? Cool name, buddy. The rest of us get stuck with boring ones like Finn. That’s me. Finn.’ He stuck his hand out towards Lachie, who was staring up at him with his wide—Celtic blue—eyes. ‘You want to shake hands? No? How about a high five? That’s right, my man. High. Low...’ Finn brought his hand up high then down low then right back to meet Lachie’s little palm. ‘Ah, you got me. You’re too quick.’ He looked down at Lachie’s feet and asked, ‘Is it okay if I look at your feet? Can you take your trainers off? Atta boy.’

      Sophie’s heart was bursting with pride as she watched Lachie rip the Velcro on his trainers with a huge grin. Then even more as he hit them on the examination trolley until they flashed. ‘Flash.’

      ‘Whoa.’ Finn raised his palms and looked very impressed. ‘This is superhero territory.’

      He leaned his hips against the couch and stamped his right foot. Then wobbled minutely and grabbed the gurney, glancing for the tiniest of moments over to Sophie and then back at Lachie. Which was a little strange.

      Was he checking if she’d seen him wobble? Or just checking if she was watching his examination? Some health professionals were spooked if they had to treat other medics, in case they were being judged.

      Finn shrugged. ‘See? Mine don’t flash at all. I need a pair of those. If only you could wear the flashing ones at night instead, eh? But they are for daytime adventures and these...’ he picked up the clinical plastic boots and showed them to Lachie ‘...these are for night-time adventures. I know, I know you don’t like them but they’ll give you even more superhero powers if you keep them on. Right, let’s have a look at those toes. Ten? You have ten toes? Excellent. I won’t tickle, I promise. Well, not if you don’t want me to.’

      ‘Can you see the redness?’ She knew she was starting to sound rude but being in here was suffocating. The pride in her son mingled with sadness and anger in Sophie’s chest. Finn should have called as he’d said he would. He should have damned well called. She tried to hurry him up. ‘There, at the back of the heel.’

      ‘Well, the feet are nice and straight so that’s good. But yes, there is some redness. The boots seem to be the right size. Have you tried putting Vaseline in? That helps.’

      ‘Yes. But he’s so wriggly when I put them on it’s like a game of Twister, all arms and legs. I think he’s scraping his heels against the plastic when he tries to scramble his feet out while I try to squeeze them in.’

      Finn nodded. ‘Yes, it’s a common problem. I’ll give you some second skin plasters; they should help. It’s often easier to have someone else around to give you a hand putting the boots on at bedtime. Either that or become an octopus.’

      ‘An octopus?’

      ‘Eight arms.’ He grinned at his little joke.

      She didn’t. ‘Well, we’ll just have to manage because...’ She didn’t want to say it, not to him, but it was the truth. She’d lost her beloved grandmother—her main cheerleader her whole life—before she’d even met Finn. Her parents had barely been in the same hemisphere as her for twenty-odd years. And she’d been too busy being a working single mum to raise her head over the dating parapet. ‘... There is no one else.’

      Finn’s head shot up from examining Lachie. ‘I see. Okay. Well, listen, Mr Monster, could you be a good boy and sit very still when your Mummy puts your boots on every night?’

      Lachie nodded, open-mouthed.

      ‘I’ve got some superhero stickers for you. Every time you sit still for Mummy you can have a sticker. Deal? And you can put them on your night-time boots and make them fit for a superhero like you.’

      ‘Yes.’ Lachie nodded and laughed. ‘Dickers.’

      ‘Stickers, honey. St...stickers. Thanks, er, Finn. That’s a great idea. We’ll try them.’

      Typical. Every night was a battleground lately and, no matter what she’d done or said or promised, Lachie had fought her about those boots. Now he was nodding, all big-eyed at Finn.

      Yes, life would have been immensely easier if there’d been two pairs of hands throughout her pregnancy and the birth and the endless hospital appointments for Lachie’s feet. Two parents to ease the strain. Two brains to work out how to deal with his problems and work out a shared timetable instead of it all being on her, juggling everything. Two hearts to love him. Because he deserved that, more than anything.

      She pressed her lips together and stopped a stream of bad words escaping her mouth. At least the man was taking time out of his schedule to see them. He wasn’t all bad.

      There had been many times, usually during one of Lachie’s sleepless nights, or more recently during his tantrums, when she’d thought the opposite. She really needed to talk to him.

      Finn grinned. ‘Let’s see you walking, shall we? Just bare feet.’

      ‘He started to walk at fourteen months, and he’s met all his other milestones. I had him treated as soon as we could and I’ve been pedantic about making sure he’s wearing the boots and bars. The staff at Nursery know what to do and snap the bars on every nap time too.’ She looked at the thin plastic boots and the metal bar they snapped into to hold his feet at the correct angle, for over half of his short life, and her heart pinged again. It hadn’t been plain sailing.

      ‘Well, it’s definitely working. Look, the feet are just a little splayed out and that’s what we want for now. Perfect.’ Well, the guy definitely knew his stuff; she couldn’t fault him on that. Finn lifted Lachie to the floor then he walked to the far end of the room.

      Interesting. He definitely favoured his left leg as he walked. A subtle limp he hadn’t had that night. Knowing him, it was a rugby injury; he’d mentioned he played. That had accounted