And Effie—as foolish as she knew it was, she couldn’t stop—wished it never had to be over.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘GEORGE IS SEVENTEEN years old. Half an hour ago he was with a group of friends climbing on Thor’s Rock when he missed his footing and fell approximately eight feet onto a raised ledge.’
The paramedic from the land ambulance met Effie, Tak and the rest of the air ambulance crew at the base of the rock.
‘He landed on his backside around thirteen feet up from here, on a raised ledge, and there’s suspected spinal compression. He was apparently unconscious for approximately fifteen seconds.’
Effie nodded as she calculated the easiest way up the sandstone structure.
‘He has severe pain in his lower back, and a pins and needles sensation in his legs. We’ve administered ten milligrams of morphine. Marco, the other paramedic, is up there holding the lad’s head and spine straight so that he doesn’t move. We were in the area—we were one of a couple of crews heading out to another incident—and they diverted us here instead.’
She nodded again, then turned to James, her own paramedic, and to Tak, who had chosen today to accompany them, just as they’d talked about in Paris.
It was impossible to pretend to herself that it didn’t feel significant. It was an unspoken acknowledgement that their relationship wasn’t just about sex—which they’d enjoyed night after night since their trip together—but about connecting in the real world as well.
Slowly, bit by bit, she was beginning to shake the fear that it could never last. That this shred of happiness was bound to be ripped from her the way that everything else bar Nell had been.
‘It should be simple enough for us to get to the patient.’ She spoke quietly. ‘There are quite a few people already milling around up there, including George’s friends, so clearly there’s plenty of room on the ledge. However, getting him down—likely on a spinal board—will be a very different matter.’
‘We have Mountain Rescue on hand to help,’ James pointed out. ‘I can start sorting that out.’
‘Good. Okay—Tak, you come with me. We’ll get up there and see what’s going on,’ She located her first hand-and foot-holds and began making her way up, reaching the ledge more quickly than she’d anticipated, with Tak right alongside her.
‘Hi, George—I’m Effie, the air ambulance doctor. How are you feeling?’
Within minutes Effie had completed her first round of checks. The lad was clearly in a bad way, and getting him down was going to be tricky for both the crews and George himself.
‘He can’t straighten his legs, so we can’t get him onto the board and therefore we can’t get him down.’
‘Quite a severe mechanism of injury,’ Tak murmured. ‘I suspect a broken pelvis and spinal damage.’
‘Yep—and time is ticking by. I’m going to administer ketamine, just so that we can get him onto a board. We’re really going to have to be careful getting him down. The last thing I want is for anyone to slip on the rocks trying to lower him. It could end up causing him even more damage.’
‘Understood. Do you want to put him in a pelvic brace?’
‘Yes.’ Effie bobbed her head.
Tak was every bit as proactive as she would have expected. And the way they worked together was so easy, so harmonious. It was a constant battle not to keep reading too much into it. Or into the fact that, even though they’d returned from Paris a week ago, her relationship with Tak didn’t seem to have slowed for even a heartbeat. Even the level of discretion needed to keep Nell from realising the truth only seemed to have added a delicious air of adventure to it.
‘You’ll need to cut his joggers off,’ she instructed, shaking the thoughts from her head.
But when Tak showed the scissors already in his hand and grinned, clearly on the same page, her stomach still flip-flopped deliciously.
‘Good. Tak, I’m going to need you to help organise the Mountain Rescue teams onto staggered ledges, as equal in strength and height as you can, so that moving him out of here is as smooth as possible.’
‘Sure.’
‘Okay.’ She nodded, plastering a smile on her lips and heading back to her patient. ‘Right, George, what do think? Fancy a ride in a helicopter today?’
* * *
Effie tried not to skip downstairs the following morning, clad only in one of Tak’s pristine bespoke shirts.
It was ridiculous that she felt so happy. Ridiculous, and amazing. A few days ago she could never have imagined herself sneaking down to a man’s kitchen in order to prepare the two of them breakfast—or in her case something which might resemble breakfast. Least of all imagine sneaking into a man’s kitchen after having made a superhuman effort to resist joining him whilst he stood in his huge walk-in shower. Never mind ‘two-person’—an entire coachload could fit in it.
She was still smiling to herself as she practically danced along the hallway and through the wide archway—only to come to a sharp halt.
If she could have backed up, cartoon-like, then she would have. For there could be no doubt that the older woman who was sitting elegantly at the counter, sipping coffee from a bone china cup and saucer, was anyone other than Tak’s mother.
Effie tugged ineffectively at the hem of Tak’s shirt—the wearing of which now seemed like the stupidest idea she’d ever had. The woman’s head turned slowly to meet her, her lips pulling instantly into a tight, disapproving line.
‘Ms Robinson, I take it?’
A statement, not a question. And a less than enamoured one at that. It was worse than any cold reception she’d ever encountered as a kid, and something seemed to snap inside Effie.
She made herself drop the hem, stand a fraction taller and meet her critic’s gaze head-on. ‘It’s Miss, actually.’ Polite but firm. Not a trace of that shake which rocked her from the inside.
‘I beg your pardon?’
Clearly Tak’s mother wasn’t accustomed to being challenged.
‘Miss—not Ms.’ Effie even forced herself to smile. ‘For the sake of clarity.’
The woman’s eyes narrowed. Then, if we are being so...clear, I should point out that my son’s shirt barely covers the fact that you aren’t wearing any underwear.’
Effie felt physically ill. But she cranked her smile up a notch. The censure and disapproval meant nothing to her, she reminded herself over her thumping heartbeat. She didn’t need validation from other people—she wasn’t that young kid any more.
‘I don’t believe Tak knew you were intending to visit, or I’m sure he would have made sure he was here to welcome you.’
‘He didn’t. Hemavati gave me a key. I imagine she was concerned. I let myself in.’
Effie chose to ignore that. ‘Then will you excuse me whilst I go and find him?’
It wasn’t really a question, but the woman darted her hand out to snatch Effie’s arm, her grip decidedly painful.
‘You mean warn him,’ she replied evenly. ‘No, I don’t think so. My daughter told me you are staying because your flat is uninhabitable?’
‘The boiler broke down and asbestos was found. The ceilings needed to be repaired and the central heating needed to be re-plumbed throughout.’ It was all Effie could do not to cringe as the words came out. How easily it could sound like an excuse.
‘I see. And Talank offered you his home?’
‘He did.’ Effie wrinkled her nose, imagining how that must sound.
‘And, tell me, how long do you expect it to take? This repair?’
Effie felt too hot, then too cold.
‘Actually, it was all done last Friday.’
‘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?’
It might have been phrased as a question but Effie knew an accusation when she heard one. And Tak’s voice invited no further challenge.
‘Are you comfortable?’
He turned to Effie with a wry smile. It was a shared moment which probably meant nothing to him yet it made something in her chest mushroom with happiness.
‘Or would you prefer to leave?’
‘I have a busy day.’ Effie moved carefully out of her seat, grateful to Tak for providing her with the opportunity to leave. ‘I might go and get ready now.’
‘You’re going to leave...her to roam around your home unsupervised?’
The implication was clear—watch the family silver—and Effie felt a tight band constrict around her chest. It was an accusation she’d heard enough times before, as she went into different foster homes. She hadn’t felt that dirt-poor and pathetic in years. It was testament to just how manipulative this woman was that she’d located Effie’s vulnerability within barely a five-minute conversation.
‘Effie,’ Tak corrected. ‘Not her. And, yes, she knows the layout of the house well enough not to need a guide—but it’s very thoughtful of you to be concerned in case Effie becomes lost.’
Effie flinched on his mother’s behalf. She recognised that tone, and it wasn’t as neutral as it seemed. The undercurrent and the subtle put-down made her skin bump. His mother had pursed her lips, as though she knew it, too.
For a moment silence descended on the room as the woman clearly burned with curiosity and Tak merely busied himself with breakfast. Completely at ease, the King of the Castle. Just as he was king everywhere he went.
She should go. Escape the tension. Instead Effie hovered in the doorway, unable to bear the thought of herself being the cause of disharmony between mother and son. And still his mother stared at the deliberately laid-back Tak, as if her eyes boring into him could somehow reveal all the answers which she was clearly so desperate to know.
An age dragged past, though it was probably less than a minute, and finally Effie excused herself.
She had no idea whether the words which followed her down the corridor came because his mother thought she was out of earshot, or because the older woman intended her words to be overheard.
‘You’re using her, Talank. I can see it, but does she know it?’
There was the briefest of pauses and Effie couldn’t help it. She slowed her pace, wishing fervently that she could see Tak’s face.
‘I will concede that when Effie and I first got together it was something of a mutual arrangement. A buffer, shall we say?’
As much as she knew it was the truth, Effie wasn’t prepared for the shard of regret which stabbed through her.
‘A buffer?’ his mother replied coldly.
‘Why not? Clearly you already know this, Mama. You wouldn’t be here if Hetti hadn’t already spoken to you. She did explain it all, didn’t she?’
‘You sister mentioned some mutual agreement, I suppose. Something about you and that woman both being single...’
‘You are my mother, and as such I try to respect you. But if you wish me to continue this conversation,’ Tak interjected, his voice quietly dangerous, ‘then you will refer to Effie by her name. Am I making myself clear?’
‘You don’t respect me, Talank. You never have. Have you?’
He ignored the question. ‘Am I making myself clear?’
‘Effie, then,’ his mother bit out coldly.
Clearly she didn’t like it. It was surely testament to Tak’s authority that she nevertheless obeyed.
‘There, now, was that so difficult?’
Still immobile in the corridor, Effie realised she didn’t want to linger there, eavesdropping. She didn’t want to hear any more. She was genuinely afraid of what might be said. Tak’s voice was barely recognisable. It held a tone she’d never heard before. A tone she never wanted to hear directed at her.
She tried to force her legs to move, but they felt rooted to the spot. As though they might fold if she attempted to force them.
‘According to Hemavati, you and... Effie—’ Effie could practically hear the gritt
ed teeth ‘—were only together for show. To redirect attention for an evening.’
‘Originally, yes.’
‘Your sister also believes that you only invited Effie here—and now I discover her daughter as well—because she had nowhere else to go.’
‘Is this conversation going somewhere relevant? I was under the impression that I could do whatever I chose, given that it is my own home. Or would you rather I’d seen them out on the streets?’
‘I would rather hear that you had told Effie that it wasn’t an action made out of the goodness of your heart so much as you making her and her daughter pawns in your quarrel against me. And against your father.’
‘You talk about him as though you’re a team,’ Tak spat out instantly.
Something in his tone had Effie spinning around, as though she could hurry back down the corridor. As though she could somehow soothe his pain.
‘He’s never been a team player. Not for you. Not for anyone.’
‘He loves me in his own way,’ his mother hissed furiously. ‘If it hadn’t been for my becoming a mother—if it hadn’t been for you—then he would have wanted me for a lot longer.’
‘He never loved you—can you really not see that?’ Tak roared. ‘He is selfish and cruel and he only loves himself. He has only ever loved himself.’
‘And you are just like him,’
The accusation hung in the air like a knife thrown at a spinning board just as time was frozen. Effie couldn’t move. If she did then she might race back down to that kitchen, take that virtual knife and stab that woman right in the heart with it. The way she had been stabbing at Tak all these years, trying to beat him into submission with her cruelty, her callousness.
How he had become such a decent, compassionate man in the face of it all was a miracle.
‘If you think that, Mama,’ Tak managed icily, ‘then why push me for an arranged marriage? If I’m so like him, how could you want to put some innocent bride through everything you went through?’
‘Because, contrary to what I know of you, people think you’re a catch, Talank. And your father will benefit from a lot of contacts if we make the right match. You owe us that much. You can keep this tramp of yours on the side, if you really need to.’
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