Read Neurosurgeon...and Mum! Online
Authors: Kate Hardy
He stole a kiss. ‘Don’t tell me you operated to rock.’
‘I always played Corelli in Theatre. Because it’s calming,’ she said. ‘But rock’s good for hitting the treadmill afterwards.’
‘So that’s how a neurosurgeon relaxes? Hard exercise?’
‘I play a mean game of squash, too.’
‘I used to,’ he said. ‘I’m almost tempted to challenge you.’
‘Oh, yes?’
He stole another kiss. ‘There would be forfeits involved.’
‘I think I like the way your mind works, Tom Ashby.’
‘Yours, too.’ And he did like her. This was more than a physical thing: he actually liked who Amy was. And he felt comfortable with her—more comfortable than he could remember feeling with anyone for a long, long time. He could talk to her about anything, and it was as if he’d known her for years instead of only a month. ‘I’m sorry I pushed you into talking about neurosurgery the other day.’
‘Honestly, it was fine. Actually, I enjoyed it,’ she said. ‘And it’s made me think about it—made me realise how much I miss it.’
‘Enough to go back to it?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t trust myself. What happens if I lose it again in an op? Danny coped brilliantly, but I might not be so lucky with my junior next time. I can’t risk my patients like that.’
He drew her closer and stole a kiss. ‘And then again, there’s the possibility that you won’t lose it again. Because now you’ve started talking about it, dealing with the thing that made you freeze.’
‘I can’t trust myself, Tom,’ she repeated.
‘OK. Suppose you decide not to go back to neurosurgery. What options does that leave you?’
‘I don’t know.’ She bit her lip. ‘Maybe I should retrain for something completely different.’
‘Would you be happy not being a doctor?’
She shrugged. ‘I probably need to go and talk to a recruitment agency and do some tests to see what else I might be good at.’
No, Tom thought, you wouldn’t be happy. You’re a doctor and you were a good one; and you’d be a huge loss to the profession.
Though maybe he could do something about that. Perhaps he’d have a quiet word with Marty, the acting head of the practice. ‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘your boss was right and you just need some time. Yesterday was the first time you’d talked about it—really talked—and it’s still early days. Don’t rush yourself.’
‘Maybe.’
At least she hadn’t rejected the idea out of hand. He stole a last kiss. ‘Much as I’d love to spend the rest of the afternoon here with you, I need to be going,’ he said.
‘School run?’
He nodded.
She kissed him lingeringly. ‘I’ll let you have the shower first, then.’
‘If I wasn’t short on time,’ he said, ‘I’d suggest you sharing it with me. But I don’t think my self-control’s going to be good enough. So I’m going to be ungentlemanly and take you up on your offer. And next time we’re going to hit the shower first and I can do what I have in mind.’
‘Is that a promise?’
‘You bet.’
On the Saturday, Perdy shyly asked Amy to go with her and Tom to see the seals. Amy loved seeing the little girl’s
eyes go big and round with wonder as they neared the spit of sand at Blakeney Point and saw the seals.
‘Look,’ Perdy said, taking her hand and pointing.
On the rocks, seals were basking in the sun. One rolled over and flapped a flipper.
‘It’s waving to us,’ Perdy said, looking delighted. ‘It’s so cute! Look, Daddy, there’s a family.’
The bull, large and protective; the cow, secure next to her mate; and the pup, settled happily and cuddled up to its parents.
Some of the seals, more inquisitive than the others, made their cumbersome way into the water, and then suddenly they were gliding along, their heads bobbing up and disappearing and bobbing up again an impossible distance away.
‘Let me take a photo of you and your dad,’ Amy said, taking her camera out of her bag. They were relaxed together, smiling; it was a wonderful picture and one she guessed that Tom’s parents would love. Maybe it would help to soften Eloise’s parents, too, seeing their granddaughter looking happy and loved. ‘And if you want to take some pictures of the seals, Perdy, I’ll print them out when we get home. Maybe you could take them in to show and tell at school next week.’
The middle-aged woman opposite them leaned forward. ‘I know how it is when one of you is always behind the camera. Would you like me to take a photograph of the three of you?’
Amy wanted to say yes, but she knew she didn’t really have any rights. While she was still dithering about what to say, Tom smiled. ‘Thank you, that’d be really kind of you. We’d love a picture of the three of us.’ Gently, he prised Amy’s camera from her fingers and handed it to the woman.
‘Get a bit closer—that’s it, perfect.’
Amy’s pulse started tattooing. This felt like being a family—Perdy cuddled between the two of them. Just as it had been with Colin and Millie.
And she hadn’t learned a thing from all the heartbreak. So much for her promise to herself not to get involved.
Yet how could she have resisted?
‘Thank you,’ she said, hoping that her voice didn’t sound as cracked as it felt.
‘Your little girl looks so much like your husband,’ the woman said as she handed the camera back.
‘Yes, Perdy’s the image of Tom.’ The moment the words were out, she regretted them. What the hell had she been thinking? Perdy wasn’t her little girl, any more than Millie had been. Of course she couldn’t step into Eloise’s place. Although Tom had said he was no longer in love with Eloise, he’d been faithful to her since they got together when he’d been nineteen. You couldn’t just brush aside fifteen years of loving someone, even if you were deeply angry with them, and as for Perdy…Nobody could just elbow your mother aside, even if you hadn’t been that close. Given that Tom had hinted how Eloise had struggled with parenthood, Amy guessed that Perdy had been like herself, desperate for her mother’s approval and not sure whether she was really loved. But Perdy still hadn’t talked about it to her, so Amy was relying entirely on a guess.
She didn’t dare look at Tom or Perdy, unable to bear to see the censure in their eyes. But now she’d said it. She couldn’t unsay it. And if she explained to the woman now, it would be awkward and embarrassing for all of them.
For a moment, she really wished they hadn’t come on the seal trip.
She felt the pressure of Tom’s fingers against her arm and forced herself to meet his gaze.
‘You OK?’ he mouthed.
Trust him to have picked up on her fears. Tom Ashby was a perceptive man. But she was used to being bright, sparkly, smiling Amy on the outside, covering for the confused and hurting Amy inside. She gave him the full megawatt treatment, mouthing back, ‘Sure.’
Even if he did know she was lying, to her relief he didn’t call her on it.
When they finally got home, Perdy hugged her tightly. ‘It’s been one of the best days of my life. Thank you so much.’
Amy found herself really hugging the little girl back, a lump in her throat. ‘I loved it too,’ she said, her voice cracked.
And not just the day.
She was really falling for Tom and his daughter.
‘And what that lady said on the boat about you being my mum—that was wrong,’ Perdy said.
Amy froze. Oh, no. She’d really hoped that the little girl hadn’t picked up on that. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly.
‘My mum wouldn’t have gone to see the seals with me and Dad,’ Perdy said. And all of a sudden her face crumpled. ‘She didn’t do things with me because she didn’t love me. That’s why she went away and died.’
Tom looked stricken; he dropped straight to his knees and wrapped his arms round his daughter, holding her tightly. ‘Darling, it wasn’t your fault your mum went away,’ he told her fiercely. ‘And of course she loved you.’
‘She never said. Not like Alexis’s mum does. She never came to see me in the Christmas play or on sports day. And she went away.’
‘It was the just way your mum was, darling. She felt she
had to try harder than anyone else and be better than anyone else.’
‘But I overheard Granny and Grandpa saying I was an accident.’ Perdy’s voice was shaky.
‘I’ve always wanted you, Perdy, always,’ he reassured her. ‘Yes, you did come along a little bit earlier than we planned, but you were always wanted. The day we found out we were expecting you was one of the best of my life—and even better than that was the day you arrived. I held you when you were three minutes old and you were the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen. You still are. I love you, I’m very proud of you, and nothing will ever change that.’
Her breath hitched. ‘But my mum didn’t, did she?’
Amy could see on Tom’s face that the question almost broke his heart. She dropped to her knees beside them and wrapped her arms round both of them. ‘Perdy, I didn’t know your mum, but she sounds a lot like mine,’ she said softly. ‘My mum never ever tells me that she loves me, or that she’s proud of me. But that’s just because some people aren’t very good at telling people they love them. I used to think she didn’t love me, but when I grew up I realised that she does really. She just doesn’t say it because that’s how she is. So I reckon your mum definitely loved you. Anyone would be proud to have a kind, sweet, lovely girl like you as a daughter.’
Tom sent her a look of gratitude above Perdy’s head. ‘Your mum loved you, Perdy,’ he said. ‘She always had a photograph of you in her purse.’
‘So she didn’t go away because she didn’t love me?’
‘No. She went away because she didn’t love herself enough,’ Tom said softly. ‘Grown-ups can be complicated. She might not have said it the way she should have done,
but she definitely loved you, darling. And so do I. Very, very much. Nothing’s ever going to change that. You’ll always be the most important person in my life.’
Later that evening, when Perdy was asleep, Tom collapsed on the sofa in the conservatory next to Amy.
‘OK?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘No. I had no idea she felt like that. And I could throttle Eloise’s parents for not being more careful. Why on earth would they say something like that in the first place? And then make it worse by not checking that she couldn’t overhear them?’
‘They’re not used to having kids around,’ Amy said.
‘No wonder she never talked to me about Eloise. She thought it was all her fault. And I…’
Amy curled her hand round his. ‘You said the right things—you told her what she needed to hear. And she knows how much she means to you, Tom.’ She paused. ‘So Eloise really did carry a picture of her?’
‘Yes.’ He looked grim. ‘I used to sort out the school photos and make sure there was a wallet-sized one in her purse as well as in my own wallet.’
‘Tom, don’t hate her for it. You can’t change the past,’ Amy said softly. ‘And at least you know now. It’s out in the open and you can deal with it.’
‘And you helped. What you said…’
‘Perdy reminds me a lot of how I was as a child,’ Amy said. ‘She’s dealing with some of the same things I had to deal with, so I can understand some of how she’s feeling.’
‘Thanks for taking her side.’
‘Tom, of
course
I’d take her side. And I meant what I said. Any mother would be proud to have a daughter like her.’
‘Yeah.’ He drew her closer. ‘In some ways I’m glad this
happened today and not yesterday, just before I rang Eloise’s parents. Or I might just have exploded down the phone at them.’
‘You’re taking her to see them?’
‘Against my better judgement, yes.’ He sighed. ‘We’re going to see them next Saturday morning and coming back on Monday, as it’s half-term.’
‘Tom, I know you’re angry with them—and you have every right to be—but it’s worth building those bridges. For Perdy’s sake, if nothing else.’
‘Maybe. I’ve managed to get two days off, but I’m not the only one in the practice who wants time off over half-term.’ He looked serious. ‘Maybe I’ll ask Alexis’s mum if Perdy can go round to play when I’m at the surgery, and I’ll take both girls out somewhere when I’m off.’
Even though Amy’s head was telling her not to do it—that she really couldn’t afford to get any more involved—she couldn’t help offering. ‘Tom, I’m around all day, and I’m perfectly happy to keep an eye on Perdy.’
‘Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want to be unfair and take all your time.’
‘I don’t mind taking the girls to the beach, poking round rock pools and looking for pretty shells—I used to love doing that at their age,’ she said. ‘And I’ll have fun reliving my own childhood.’
‘Really? You’re not just being nice?’
She couldn’t help smiling. ‘I’m not just being nice. They’re lovely kids and we’ll have a lot of fun.’
‘Then thank you. Your offer’s very gratefully accepted.’
But she could still feel the tension in his body. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’
‘How do you know?’
‘I just do.’
‘Boundaries,’ he said. ‘I’m about to encroach on yours again.’
‘Hit me with it,’ she said dryly.
‘You know my patient with trigeminal neuralgia? She’s seen the neurologist, and I had a note from him to say that he’s going to send her for the gamma knife stuff. So I was wondering…I know it’s an imposition, but you know so much more about it than I do.’
‘You want me to talk to her?’
‘Would you?’
It wasn’t an actual operation, so she couldn’t mess it up. ‘All right. I’ll get one of the frames so she can see exactly what’s involved and that it won’t hurt. Give me a couple of days to get it organised—I could see her maybe Friday?’
‘Thank you.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘She’ll appreciate it—and so do I.’
O
N
Wednesday morning, Amy rang her boss; Della, Fergus’s secretary, put her straight through.
‘Amy, it’s marvellous to hear you,’ Fergus said warmly. ‘How are you doing?’
‘OK, thanks,’ she said. ‘And you were absolutely right. I needed time off to get my head together. How are you?’
‘I’m fine. So what can I do for you?’
‘I’m on the scrounge,’ she said. ‘Can I borrow a stereotactic head frame?’
‘You want to borrow…?’ Fergus sounded surprised. ‘What, are you planning to set up a treatment centre somewhere in Norfolk?’
She laughed. ‘As if I could afford the kit! No, it’s just to reassure someone who’s being sent for treatment. One of Tom’s patients.’
‘Tom?’
‘My uncle’s locum. We’re sharing the house-sitting and dog-sitting between us,’ she explained. ‘His patient’s having gamma knife treatment for TGN and he wants me to run through it with her. I thought it’d help if she actually saw one of the frames, so she didn’t worry that it was going to be incredibly heavy or she was going to have enormous holes in her head from the pins.’
‘I’ll courier one over,’ Fergus said.
‘And I’ll courier it straight back,’ she promised.
‘That’s my girl.’ He paused. ‘You sound a lot happier, Amy. I think this sabbatical is good for you. But, even if you feel ready to come back now, we’re sticking to the rules. You’re not coming back until the three months is up.’
‘What is this, absence makes the heart grow fonder?’ she teased.
He laughed. ‘Something like that. We all miss you, Amy. But I want you back whole.’
‘I think I’ve turned a corner,’ she said. Thanks to Tom, she added mentally.
‘So you’re talking to someone?’
‘Sort of.’ Not quite in the way Fergus meant, but she was getting there.
‘Good. Right, I’d better go and sweet-talk Della into sorting out a courier for me, then.’
‘Thanks, Fergus. For everything,’ she said softly.
On Friday morning, Amy went into the surgery with Tom, and was surprised at just how warmly everyone greeted her.
Marty, the acting senior partner in Joe’s absence, came in to Tom’s consulting room to see her before the patients arrived and shook her hand heartily. ‘It’s lovely to see you, Amy. Joe said you were coming to stay for a while and I hoped you’d drop in to see us.’ He grinned at Tom. ‘I remember this one when she was knee-high to a grasshopper. Every summer she’d come in and polish the skeleton in Joe’s office. Fascinated with it, she was.’
Amy rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, yeah. And now you’re going to tell the story of how I made you tell me the name of every single bone in Latin.’
Tom grinned. ‘How old were you?’
‘Old enough,’ she said tartly.
‘She was five,’ Marty confided. ‘A born doctor. How are you getting on with Joseph’s casebooks, Amy?’
‘They’re fascinating. When I’ve sorted out the transcripts, I’ll let you have a copy,’ Amy promised.
‘I’d love that. Thanks.’ He paused. ‘Amy, I know you’re on sabbatical, but I was wondering if I could be a bit cheeky and persuade you to run a couple of pain-relief clinics while you’re here? We have a few patients who suffer from chronic pain and I think they’d really benefit from your help.’
She glanced at Tom: was he behind the offer? But his expression was unreadable.
‘I…Marty, you’ve caught me a bit on the hop. Can I be terribly rude and ask if you’d mind if I think about it and get back to you?’
‘Not at all, my dear girl.’ He patted her arm. ‘I know I shouldn’t be impinging on your time but when Tom said you were coming in to have a chat with Mrs Cooper about her treatment, I couldn’t pass up the chance to have a word and…’ He smiled. ‘Well. We’d be very pleased to have you.’
She raised an eyebrow at Tom when Marty had left. ‘Was that anything to do with you?’
Tom lifted his hands in the classic ‘surrender’ position. ‘All I did was mention to Marty that you were coming in to see Mrs Cooper, and that listening to you talk about procedures was a revelation.’
‘So doing a pain clinic was all Marty’s idea?’
‘I think it’s a really good one. But it’s entirely your decision.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.
It was time for Tom’s first patient. Mrs Cooper came into the consulting room and Tom introduced her to Amy.
‘It’s so kind of you to have a word with me.’
‘My pleasure. I believe Dr Ashby’s already given you an idea of what’s involved, so I’ve borrowed a stereotactic head frame from my department to give you a chance to have a look at it.’ She took the frame from its protective box on Tom’s desk and handed it over.
‘It feels lighter than I thought it would be,’ Mrs Cooper said, sounding surprised. ‘And you really have to pin it to my head?’
‘So it doesn’t move, yes. Can I show you?’ At Mrs Cooper’s nod, Amy smiled. ‘I’ll put it on Dr Ashby rather than on you, because I know the lightest touch can set off the pain and I don’t want to do that to you. Dr Ashby, would you mind moving round in your chair so I can stand behind you?’
‘Of course, Dr Rivers.’
She didn’t bother correcting him that it was ‘Ms’; patients had enough to worry about without the niceties of etiquette.
She put the square section of the frame over his head, just about resisting the urge to stroke his hair. ‘It takes about ten to fifteen minutes to put it all into place, but don’t worry, the doctors will explain it all to you again before they do it. We’d put local anaesthetic in here, here, here and here…’ she brushed Tom’s hair back and placed the tip of her forefinger against his skin ‘…and then, when that’s had a chance to work, we’ll put in the pins to fix the frame in place. It’s really important because it keeps your head still and lets us be really precise with the radiation, so we know it’s going to the right spot. You’ll be aware of it, but it’s not heavy and it’s not painful because of the anaesthetic.’
She noticed how anxious Mrs Cooper looked and guessed exactly what she was worried about: the same thing all her patients worried about. ‘It sounds really scary, but all my patients have said that it’s a lot less traumatic
than they expected.’ She removed the frame again and put it back in the box before resuming her place next to Tom.
‘Are you going to shave my head?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Amy said with a smile.
‘And the gamma knife thing—it’s not going to hurt?’
‘Not at all,’Amy reassured her, and ran through the procedure for her as she had for Tom, keeping her explanations clear and simple; Tom chipped in, here and there, and it struck Amy how good he was with his patients. He could read their moods accurately, guess what their fears were, and he was great at reassuring them.
‘When you’ve had your MRI scan, your consultant will have an image of your trigeminal nerve, and will mark it up with the planned dose distribution. I can show you some examples, if you like.’
‘Could you?’
She’d already powered up her laptop so all she had to do was lift the screen. ‘This is one of the “slices” that an MRI scan takes. The narrow bit at the top is your face, and these bits at the side are your ears.’ She pointed out the nerve on the screen. ‘This is the nerve that causes all the pain. And this image to the right is the same one, but those green lines show us where we’re going to concentrate the radiation—how many shots and in which area.’
‘It’s marvellous what they can do nowadays,’ Mrs Cooper said, looking awed. ‘And that’s what you do in London?’
‘Yes.’
‘They’re sending me to London for the op—the London Victoria.’
Amy’s hospital: and the name gave her a real pang. ‘Then you might even have this very headset, because that’s where this one came from. My boss sent it down for me.’
‘So will you be the one treating me?’
‘Probably not,’ she said gently, ‘because I’m on sabbatical at the moment. But I do know all the staff there, and they’re absolutely excellent.’
‘If they’re like you,’ Mrs Cooper said, ‘I know I’ll be in good hands and I won’t have to worry about a thing.’
Amy had to swallow the lump in her throat. ‘Thank you. Is there anything you’d like to ask me?’
‘I don’t think so, not right now.’
‘OK. But do let Dr Ashby know if there is.’
‘Any time,’ Tom added.
‘And you can always ask at the hospital,’ Amy said. ‘If you’re worried about anything, no matter how silly it is, just ask. Nobody minds—we’d all much rather have a relaxed patient than one who’s worried sick and too scared to ask anything.’
‘Thank you, Dr Rivers.’
Looking considerably less tense, Mrs Cooper left the consulting room, closing the door behind her.
‘You were brilliant,’ Tom said softly. ‘You’ve really helped her.’
‘I hope so.’
‘If you’d been in London, would you have been the one operating?’
‘Probably.’ And it hit her how much she missed it. Talking to patients, reassuring them the way she’d just reassured Mrs Cooper, and then performing the delicate and complex operation that took away all the pain. ‘She’ll probably be with Luke or Fergus—the other consultant or the head of Neuro—so she’ll be absolutely fine. They’re both sweethearts and really good at their job.’
‘I know someone else who’s a sweetheart,’ Tom said. ‘And who’s a lot better at her job than she thinks she is.’
Something of her discomfort must have shown in her
face, because he pulled her onto his lap and stole a kiss. ‘All right. I’ll shut up. But thanks for helping out, Amy. You’ve made a real difference.’
‘Maybe.’ How easy it would be to let herself relax against him. But she dared not. She wriggled off his lap and packed away her laptop and the frame. ‘I’d better get this frame couriered back to Fergus. See you later.’
Amy spent the rest of the day wondering: should she do the pain clinic? It would be a way of easing herself back in to medicine. ‘Then again,’ she said to Buster, ‘supposing I screw up again?’
The dog rested one paw on her knee so he could reach up and lick her face.
‘You old softie,’ she said, making a fuss of him.
But it filled her thoughts to the point where she didn’t do much on Joseph’s casebooks. And the house felt so quiet, with neither Tom nor Perdy there. She knew that Perdy had arranged to go to Alexis’s after school and Tom was going to pick her up after he’d seen his last patient; and she was shocked to find herself clock-watching until she heard the front door open and Buster rushed out to greet them.
Amy followed at a more sedate pace, carrying an empty coffee mug as an excuse to head for the kitchen.
‘Here she is.’ Tom presented her with an armful of pink-and-white spray carnations.
‘You bought Amy flowers?’ Perdy’s eyes widened.
‘Not me. One of my patients,’ Tom explained. ‘Amy came and had a chat with her about an operation she’s going to have, and she wanted to say thank you. Mrs Cooper asked me to give you these,’ he added to Amy.
‘That’s very sweet of her,’ Amy said. Of course Tom wasn’t going to give her flowers. This thing between them
was private. And it was ridiculous to feel disappointment sinking through her because the flowers were from someone else. ‘I’ll put them in water,’ she said, forcing herself to sound brighter than she felt. ‘I was thinking of making fajitas for dinner tonight, and a strawberry and rhubarb crumble. Want to help me, Perdy?’
‘Can I?’ Perdy beamed at her. ‘I’ll go and wash my hands.’
And the evening passed exactly as she remembered spending evenings here during her childhood: full of laughter and fun, split between the kitchen and the garden.
On Saturday morning, Tom and Perdy left for Cheshire; and by lunchtime everything felt flat.
‘It’s ridiculous that I should miss them,’ Amy told Buster. ‘This is temporary. I’m going back to London in six weeks—less than that, maybe.’
The dog simply wagged his tail.
In the early afternoon, Tom sent her a text to let her know they’d arrived safely. Amy suppressed disappointment that he hadn’t added a personal message; but they’d made no promises, and it was unfair of her to expect him to treat her like his girlfriend. They’d agreed this was a temporary thing, and she had no right to ask him to change it.
She forced herself to concentrate on Joseph’s casebooks then took the dog for a run. Cooking for herself felt like too much of a bother, so she made herself a cold chicken salad, and Buster ended up with most of the chicken.
Sunday was more of the same; and Amy was idly sorting through the digital photographs on her laptop when she came across the picture from the seal trip. Herself and Tom either side of Perdy, cuddled in close, all three of them smiling broadly.
They looked like a family.
The shock of realisation felt as if someone had dropped
her into a deep pool of icy water and it took her a moment to catch her breath. This was what she wanted. What she’d been missing ever since Colin had changed his mind.
But would Tom be prepared to take a risk on her and let her be a family with him and Perdy? And, if he was, could she be brave enough to take that risk? If he changed his mind, the way Colin had, she didn’t think she’d be able to handle rejection a second time.
Just after lunchtime on Monday, Tom texted her again to let her know they were on their way back to Norfolk.
Pasta, salad and garlic bread for dinner—ready ten minutes after you get back, she texted back.
She knew the journey took almost five hours. Add in some time for stops, and they’d be home at about seven, she calculated. And from half past six she found herself watching the clock, listening out for the crunch of tyres on gravel.
At last, Buster woofed and bounded down the hall.
‘Hey, what a welcome,’Tom said, making a fuss of the dog.
Perdy dropped to her knees and hugged him. ‘I’ve missed you so much! Grandma only has a cat and it’s like the Siamese cats in
Lady and the Tramp
—horrible!’
Amy hung back in the kitchen, pretending that she was concentrating on reheating the sauce and cooking the pasta, and feeling suddenly shy and awkward. They’d been apart for a couple of days. Would Tom have come to his senses and changed his mind about her? Would they be having a ‘Dear Jane’ conversation once Perdy was asleep?