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‘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.’
