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She was trying to relegate her outburst to the past. But he wasn’t about to let her. It was the closest he’d come to seeing the real Effie.
‘What was so different about it?’
‘Please, can we just leave it at that?’
‘Is this why you don’t talk about your family?’
‘I don’t have a family,’ she burst out before checking herself.
Pursing her lips, she inhaled and exhaled heavily through her nose. And still he held himself still. Silent.
‘I had a mother—some of the time—but I spent a lot of time in and out of children’s homes and foster families.’
‘You were a foster kid?’
‘On and off. Not enough to be given a family of my own, but enough that I spent most of my childhood shunted in and out of other people’s homes. I grew up resenting everything. Not least the fact that my mother couldn’t get herself together enough to keep me safe whilst other kids were complaining that their mums had given them cheese sandwiches for lunch again when they’d wanted ham.’
If she’d punched him in the guts he couldn’t have felt any more winded. Effie had been a foster kid? She was so not what he might have expected of one. Although now he thought about it he had no idea what that might have been.
He was only grateful that she continued.
‘You know one of the worst things about it? You always feel like you’re nothing and no one. And the older you get, the fewer families want you. Because they think you’re going to give them attitude. And maybe it’s true. But that’s only because you’re always made to feel like you should show more gratitude.’
‘Gratitude?’
‘Yes. And I was grateful—inside. But I also hated the fact that this was my life, so it was hard to be grateful when you saw what other kids—normal kids—got. So many foster families acted as though I should be doing cartwheels up and down the street in gratitude for a safe place to sleep, a warm bed, food on the table. It just reminded me of how different I was, because those were things that normal kids wouldn’t even think twice about.’
‘Is that why you were so resistant to take up my offer to come here?’ he asked quietly, unable to help himself. ‘Why you balked at my spending all that money at the silent auction?’
As her jaw set, her eyes going a steely grey as though she was shutting down, he mentally kicked himself for allowing the words to come out of his mouth. She was going to pull even further away from him now. The knowledge saddened him far more than it had any right to do.
CHAPTER TEN
TAK WAS ABOUT to leave again when Effie suddenly hunched her shoulders lightly and—incredibly—answered him. Even if it sounded as though her mouth was struggling to form every single syllable.
‘I guess. Yes.’
He waited a little longer, not about to make the same mistake again by pushing her.
Still, it felt like an eternity before she rewarded him by elaborating, ‘It was the way you didn’t think twice about what would happen if you won all those lots. You could just...pay. I spent so many years worrying where my next meal came from—even before Nell came along.’
‘You’ve done an incredible job,’ he pointed out.
‘I guess...’
Effie dipped her head slightly, and he was gratified that the words didn’t sound quite as stiff and awkward now. Almost as if she was beginning to trust him.
‘My flat might not be anything compared to this, but it’s mine. At least I pay the rent. I keep a roof over my kid’s head. I keep her warm and fed and happy, and I give her the things she needs. I suppose I felt as though coming here was an admission that I wasn’t a good enough mother.’
‘That boiler breaking down and your crappy landlord are no reflection on your ability as a mother.’
‘But they are.’ She lifted her head finally to meet his gaze and Tak stepped down the last couple of steps. ‘At least they feel as though they are. If I could afford somewhere better, a house of our own, I wouldn’t have to rely on some landlord. Or even if I could afford a better apartment closer to the helicopter base. Or even a car I could rely on if I lived further out.’
‘Effie, you’ve raised a child from the age of eighteen and managed to get through medical school—and not just at any university, but one of the top places in the world—as well as forge a career as a trauma doctor. You’ve proved yourself a good mother over and over again.’
‘And yet you’ve just walked in and seen me playing pool and I feel like a teenage kid caught red-handed again.’
Red-handed? Tak frowned. ‘You weren’t allowed to go to youth club and shoot pool when you were a kid?’
