Knight on the Children's Ward (7 page)

‘You knew about Levander, didn't you?' Had Annika thought about it, she'd never have had the courage to ask, but she didn't think, she just said it—and then she added something else. ‘If you hit me again you'll never see me again, so I suggest that you talk to me instead.'

‘I was pregnant with twins,' Nina hissed. ‘It was hard enough to flee Russia just us two—we would never have got out with him.'

‘So you left him?'

‘To save my sons!' Nina said. ‘Yes.'

‘How could Pa?' Still she couldn't cry, but it was there at the back of her throat. ‘How could he leave him behind?'

‘He didn't know…' Annika had seen her mother cry, had heard her wail, but she had never seen her crumple. ‘For years I did not tell him. He thought his son was safe with his mother. Only I knew…'

‘Knew what?'

‘We were ready to leave, and that
blyat
comes to the door with her bastard son…' Annika winced at her mother's foul tongue, and yet unlike her brothers she listened, heard that Levander's mother had turned up one night with a small toddler and pleaded that Nina
take him, that she was dying, that her family were too poor to keep the little boy…

‘I was pregnant, Annika…' Nina sobbed. ‘I was big, the doctor said there were two, I wanted my babies to have a chance. We would never have got out with Levander.'

‘You could have tried.'

‘And if we'd failed?' Nina pleaded. ‘Then what?' she demanded. ‘So I sent Levander and his mother away, and for years your father never found out.'

‘And when he did Levander came here?'

‘No.' Nina was finally honest. ‘We tried for a few more years to pretend all was perfect.' She looked over to her daughter. ‘So now you can hate me too.'

B
UT
Annika didn't want to hate her mother.

She just didn't know how to love her right now.

She wanted Ross.

She wanted to hide in his arms and fall asleep.

She wanted to go over and over it with him.

The truth was so much worse than the lies, and yet she could sort of understand her mother's side.

The family secret had darkened many shades, and her mother had begged her not to tell anyone.

Oh, Annie knew, and no doubt so did Millie, Levander's wife, but they were real partners. Ross and Annika…they were brand spanking new!

How could she land it on him?

And anyway, he would soon be heading off for Spain!

For the first time in her life she had a tangible reason to sever ties with her mother. Instead she found herself there more and more, listening to Nina's stories, understanding a little more what had driven her parents, what had fuelled their need for the castle they had built for their children.

 

‘I haven't seen you so much,' Elsie commented.

‘I've cut down my shifts,' Annika said, with none of her old sparkle. ‘I need to concentrate on my studies.'

Cashing the cheque had hurt, but then so too did everything right now. When push had come to shove, she'd realised that she actually
liked
her shifts at the nursing home, so instead of cutting ties completely, she'd drastically reduced her hours.

Ross was around, and though they smiled and said hello she kept him at a distance.

She had spent the past week in cots, which didn't help matters.

The babies were so tiny and precious, and sometimes so ill it terrified Annika.

She was constantly checking that she had put the cot-sides up, and double-and triple-checking medicine doses.

She longed to be like the other nurses, who bounced a babe on their knee and fed with one hand while juggling the phone with the other.

She just couldn't.

‘How's that man of yours?' Elsie asked, because Annika was unusually quiet.

‘He goes to Spain soon—when he gets back we will maybe see each other some more.'

‘Why wait?'

‘You know he's a doctor—a senior doctor on my ward?'

‘Oh.' Elsie pondered. ‘I'm sure others have managed—you can be discreet.'

‘There's stuff going on.' Annika combed through her hair. ‘With my family. I think it's a bit soon to land it all on him.'

‘If he's the right one for you, he'll be able to take it,' Elsie said.

‘Ah, but if he's not…' Annika could almost see the news headlines. ‘How do you know if you can trust someone?'

‘You don't know,' Elsie said. ‘You never know. You just hope.'

R
OSS
always liked to get to work early.

He liked a quick chat with the night staff, if possible, to hear from them how things were going on the ward, rather than hear the second-hand version a few hours later from the day nurses.

It was a routine that worked for him well.

A niggle from a night nurse could become a full-blown incident by ten a.m. For Ross it was easier to buy a coffee and the paper, have a quick check with the night staff and then have ten minutes to himself before the day began in earnest. This morning there was no such luxury. He'd been at work all night, and at six-thirty had just made his way from ICU when he stopped by the nurses' station.

‘Luke's refused to have his blood sugar taken,' Amy, the night nurse, explained. ‘I was just talking him round to it and his mum arrived.'

‘Great!' Ross rolled his eyes. ‘Don't tell me she took it herself?'

‘Yep.'

It had been said so many times, but sometimes working on a children's ward would be so much easier without the parents!

‘Okay—I'll have another word. What else?'

There wasn't much—it was busy but under control—and so Ross escaped to his office, took a sip of the best coffee in Australia and opened the paper. He stared and he read and he stared, and if
his
morning wasn't going too well, then someone else's wasn't, either.

His pager went off, and he saw that it was a call from Iosef Kolovsky. He took it.

‘Hi.'

‘Sorry to call you for private business.' Iosef was, as always, straight to the point. ‘Have you seen the paper?'

‘Just.'

‘Okay—now, I think Annika is on your ward at the moment…' Iosef had never asked for a favour in his life. ‘Could you just keep an eye out for her—and if the staff are talking tell them that what has been written is nonsense? You have my permission to say you know me well and that this is all rubbish.'

‘Will do,' Ross said, and, because he knew he would get no more from Iosef, ‘How's Annie?'

‘Swearing at the newspaper.'

‘I bet. I'll do what I can.'

He rang off and read it again. It was a scathing piece—mainly about Iosef's twin Aleksi.

On his father's death two years ago he had taken over as chief of the House of Kolovsky, and now, the reporter surmised, Ivan Kolovsky the founder must be turning in his grave.

There had been numerous staff cuts, but Aleksi, it was said, was frittering away the family fortune in casinos, on long exotic trips, and on indiscretions with women. A bitter ex, who was allegedly nine weeks pregnant by him, was savage in her observa
tions. Not only had staff been cut, but his own sister, a talented jewellery designer, had been cut off from the family trust and was now living in a small one-bedroom flat, studying nursing. Along with a few pictures of Aleksi looking rather the worse for wear were two of Annika—one of her in a glamorous ballgown, looking sleek and groomed, and the other… Well, it must have been a bad day, because she was in her uniform and looking completely exhausted, teary even, as she stepped out into the ambulance bay.

There was even a quote from an anonymous source that stated how miserable she was in her job, how she hated every moment, and how she thought she was better than that.

 

How, Ross had fathomed, was she supposed to walk into work after that?

She did, though.

He was sitting in the staffroom when she entered, just as the morning TV news show chatted about the piece. An orthopaedic surgeon was reading the paper, and a couple of colleagues were discussing it as she walked in. Ross felt his heart squeeze in mortification for her.

But she didn't look particularly tense, and she didn't look flushed or teary—for a moment he was worried that she didn't even know what was being said.

Until she sat down, eating her raisin toast from the canteen, and a colleague jumped up to turn the television over.

‘It's fine,' she said. ‘I've already seen it.'

The only person, Ross surmised as the gathering staff sat there, who didn't seem uncomfortable was Annika.

Ross called her back as the day staff left for handover. ‘How are you doing?'

‘Fine.'

‘If you want to talk…?'

‘Then I'll speak with my family.'

Ross's lips tightened. She didn't make things easy, but he didn't have the luxury of thinking up a smart retort as his pager had summoned him to a meeting.

‘I'm here if you need me, okay?'

 

The thing with children, Annika was fast realising, was that they weren't dissimilar from the residents in the nursing home. There, the residents' tact buttons had long since been switched off—on the children's ward they hadn't yet been switched on.

‘My mum said you were in the paper this morning!' A bright little five-year-old sang out as Annika did her obs.

‘What's “allegedly” mean?' asked another.

‘Why don't you change your name?' asked Luke as she took down his dressing just before she was due to finish. Ross wanted to check his leg ulcer before it was re-dressed, and Annika was pleased to see the improvement. ‘Then no one would know who you are.'

‘I've thought about it,' Annika admitted. ‘But the papers would make a story out of that too. Anyway, whether I like the attention or not, it is who I am.'

His dressing down, she covered his leg with a sterile sheet and then checked off on his paperwork before the end of her shift.

‘What's your blood sugar?'

‘Dunno.'

It had been a long day for Annika, and maybe her own tact button was on mute for now, but she was tired
of reasoning with him, tired of the hourly battles when it was really simple. ‘You know what, Luke? You can argue and you can kick and scream and make it as hard as you like, but why not just surprise everyone and do it for yourself? You say you want your mum to leave you alone, to stop babying you—maybe it's time to stop acting like one.'

It was perhaps unfortunate that Ross came in at that moment.

‘His dressing's all down,' Annika gulped.

‘Thanks. I'll just have a look, and then you can redress.'

‘Actually, my shift just ended. I'll pass it on to one of the late staff.'

She turned to go, but Ross was too quick for her.

‘If you could wait in my office when you've finished, Annika,' Ross said over his shoulder. ‘I'd like a quick word.'

Oh, she was really in trouble now.

She hadn't been being mean—or had she?

Maybe she should have been more tactful with Luke…

She couldn't read Ross's expression when he came in.

He was dressed in a suit, even though he hadn't been in one this morning, and he looked stern and formidable. Unusually for Ross, he also looked tired, and he gave a grim smile when she jumped up from the chair at his desk.

‘Is Luke okay?'

‘He's fine. I asked Cassie to do his dressing.'

‘Was he upset?'

‘Upset?'

‘Because I told him he should be taking his own blood sugars?'

‘He just took it.'

‘Oh.'

Ross frowned, and then he shook his head in bewilderment. ‘Do you think you're here to be told off?'

‘I told him he was acting like a baby.'

‘I've told him the same,' Ross said. ‘Many times. You were fine in there—would you please stop doubting yourself all the time?'

‘I'll try.'

‘How come you're finishing early?'

‘I worked through lunch; I'm going home at three.' She let out a breath. ‘It's been a long day.'

‘That offer's still there.' He saw her slight frown. ‘To talk.'

‘Thank you.'

And when she didn't walk off, neither did Ross.

‘Do you want to come riding?' There was an argument raging in his head—he was going away soon, they had promised to keep things on ice till he returned, and yet he couldn't just leave her like this.

‘Riding?'

‘At the farm.'

‘I've never ridden.'

‘It's the best thing in the world after a tough day,' Ross said. ‘You'll love it.'

‘How do you know?' Annika said.

‘I just know.' He watched her cheeks darken further. ‘Annika, I will not lay a finger on you. It's just a chance to get away…'

‘I don't like talking like this when I'm on duty.'

‘Then give me half an hour to call in a favour and I'll meet you in the canteen.'

She
wasn't
going back to the farm with him. Her hand was shaking as she opened her locker, and then
she picked up her phone and turned it on. She saw missed calls from her mother, her family's agent, her brother Iosef, a couple from Annie and four from Aleksi. She turned it off. Right now she was finding it very hard to breathe.

She didn't want to go home.

Didn't want to give a comment.

Didn't want a spin doctor or a night out at some posh restaurant with her family just to prove they were united.

Which was why she turned left for the canteen.

 

He drove; she followed in her own car. He had a small flat near the hospital, Ross had explained, for nights on call, but home was further away, and by the time they got there it was coming up for five. As they slid into his long driveway, she saw the tumbled old house and sprawling grounds. For the first time since she had been awoken by a journalist at five a.m., asking her to offer a comment, Annika didn't have to remember to breathe.

It just happened.

And when she stepped out of the car she saw all the flowers waving in the breeze—the same kind of flowers he had brought for her.

Ross
had
picked them.

The inside was scruffy, but nice: boots in the hallway, massive couches, and a very tidy kitchen, thanks to the cleaner who was just leaving.

‘Hungry?' Ross asked, and she gave a small shrug.

‘A bit.'

‘I'll pack a picnic.'

‘Am I to learn to ride in my uniform?'

He laughed and found her some jodhpurs that he said belonged to one of his sisters, some boots that be
longed to someone else, though he wasn't sure who, and an old T-shirt of his.

Annika didn't know what she was doing here.

But it was like a retreat and she was grateful for it.

She was grateful too for familiarity in the strangest of places. There were pictures of Iosef there with Ross, from twenty years old to the present day. They grew up before her eyes as she walked along the hallway—and, though she had never really discussed the Detsky Dom with her brother, somehow with Ross she could.

‘I expected them to be more miserable,' Annika said, staring at a photo of some grinning, pimply-faced teenagers, with Ross and Iosef beaming in the middle. It was a Iosef she had never seen.

‘Our soccer team had just won!' Ross grinned at the memory. ‘It's not all doom and gloom.'

‘I know,' Annika said, glad that now she did, because there were so many questions she felt she couldn't ask her brothers.

‘There's an awful lot of love there,' Ross said, ‘there's just not enough to go around. The staff are wonderful…'

And she was glad to hear that.

She was glad too when she walked back into the kitchen. They had had very little conversation—she was too tired and confused and brain-weary to talk—but he got one essential thing out of the way.

He held her.

It was as if he had been waiting for her, and she stepped so easily into his arms. She never cried, and she certainly wouldn't now, but it had been a horrible day, a rotten day, and although Iosef, Annie, Aleksi, her friends, would all do their best to offer comfort—she
was sure of that—Ross was far nicer. He didn't ask, or make her explain, he just held her, and the attraction that had always been there needed no explanation or discussion. It just was. It just
is
, Annika thought.

His chest smelt as she remembered. He was, she decided as she rested in his arms, an absolute contradiction, because he both relaxed and excited her. She could feel herself unwind. She felt the hammer of his heart in her ear and looked up.

‘One kiss,' she said.

‘Look where that got us last time.'

‘Just one,' Annika said, ‘to chase away the day.'

So he kissed her. His lovely mouth kissed hers and her wretched day disappeared. He tasted as unique as he had the first time he'd kissed her, as if blended just for her. His mouth made hers an expert. They moved as if they were reuniting, tongues blending and chasing. His body was taut, and made hers do bold things like press a little into him. Her fingers wanted to hook into the loop of his belt and pull him in harder, and so she did. Their breathing was ragged and close and vital, and when he pulled back he gave her that delicious smile.

‘Come on.'

He gave her his oldest, slowest, most trustworthy horse to ride, and helped her climb on, but even as the horse moved a couple of steps she felt as if the ground was giving way and let out a nervous call.

‘Sit back in the saddle.' Ross grinned. ‘Just relax back into it.'

She felt as if she would fall backwards, or slide off, every muscle in her body tense as they clopped at a snail's pace out of the stables.

‘Keep your heels down,' Ross said, as if it were that
easy. Every few steps she lost a stirrup, but the horse, along with Ross, was so endlessly patient that soon they were walking. Annika concentrated on not leaning forward and keeping her heels down, and there was freedom, the freedom of thinking about nothing other than somehow staying on. After a little while Ross goaded her into kicking into a trot.

‘Count out loud if it helps.' He was beside her, holding his own reins in one hand as she bumped along. It was
exciting
for maybe thirty seconds, as she found her rhythm and then lost it. She pulled on the reins to stop, and then the only thing Annika could do was laugh. She laughed with a strange freedom, exhilaration ripping through her, and Ross was laughing too.