The Scandalous Kolovskys: Knight on the Children's Ward

‘I have to get back.’

Annika had never flirted in her life. She had had just one boring, family-sanctioned relationship, which had ended with her rebellion in moving towards nursing, but she knew she was flirting now. She knew she was doing something dangerous and bold when she picked up a thick black olive, popped it in her mouth and then removed the pip.

‘Nice?’ Ross asked

‘Way better than I remember.’ And they weren’t talking about olives, of that she was certain. She might have to check with Elsie, but she was sure she was flirting. She blushed—not from embarrassment, but because of what he said next.

‘Oh, it will be.’

And as she sped back to the ward late, she was burning. She could hardly breathe as she accepted Caroline’s scolding and then went to warm up a bottle for a screaming baby. Only when he was fed, changed and settled did she pull up the cot-side and let herself think.

Oh, she didn’t need to run it by Elsie.

Ross had certainly been flirting.

And Annika had loved it.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘I DON’T want a needle.’

Hannah was ten and scared.

She had flushed cheeks from crying, and from the virus that her body was struggling to fight, and Annika’s heart went out to her, because the little girl had had enough.

Oh, she wasn’t desperately ill, but she was sick and tired and wanted to be left alone. However, her IV site was due for a change, and even though cream had been applied an hour ago, so that she wouldn’t feel it, she was scared and yet, Annika realised, just wanted it to be over and done with.

So too did Annika.

Ross was putting the IV in.

‘I’ll be in in a moment,’ he had said, popping his head around the treatment room door—and Annika had nodded and carried on chatting with Hannah, but she was exhausted from the hyper-vigilant state he put her in. She knew he was in a difficult position; he was a consultant, she a student nurse—albeit a mature one. She also knew a relationship was absolutely the last thing she needed. Chaos abounded in her life; there was just so much to sort out.

Yet she wanted him.

Elsie, when Annika had discussed it with her, had huffed and puffed that it should be Ross who asked her out, Ross who should take her out dancing. But things were different now, Annika had pointed out, and she’d already said no to him once.

‘Ask him,’ Cecil had said when she had taken him in his evening drink. He had a nip of brandy each night, and always asked for another one. ‘You lot say you want equal rights, but only when it suits you. Why should he risk his job?’

‘Risk his job?’

‘For harassing you?’ Cecil said stoutly. ‘He’s already asked you and you said no—if you’ve changed your mind, then bloody well ask him. Stop playing games.’

‘How do you know all this?’ Annika had demanded, and then gone straight to Elsie’s room. ‘That was a secret.’

‘I’ve got dementia.’ Elsie huffed. ‘You can’t expect me to keep a secret.’

‘You cunning witch!’ Annika said, and Elsie laughed.

She hadn’t just told Cecil either!

Half of the residents were asking for updates, and then sulking when Annika reported that there were none.

So, when Ross had asked her to bring Hannah up to the treatment room to have her IV bung replaced, even though Cassie had offered to do it for her, Annika had bitten the bullet. Now she was trying to talk to her patient.

‘The cream we have put on your arm means that you won’t feel it.’

‘I just don’t like it.’

‘I know,’ Annika said, ‘but once it is done you can go back to bed and have a nice rest and you won’t be worrying about it any more. Dr Ross is very gentle.’

‘I am.’

She hadn’t heard him come in, and she gave him a small smile as she turned around to greet him.

‘Hannah’s nervous.’

‘I bet you are,’ Ross said to his patient. ‘You had a tough time of it in Emergency, didn’t you? Hannah was too sick to wait for the anaesthetic cream to work,’ he explained to Annika, but really for the little girl’s benefit, ‘and she was also so ill that her veins were hard to find, so the doctor had to have a few goes.’

‘It hurt,’ Hannah gulped.

‘I know it did.’ Ross was checking the trolley and making sure everything was set up before he commenced. Hannah was lying down, but she looked as if at any moment she might jump off the treatment bed. ‘But the doctor in Emergency wasn’t a children’s doctor …’ Ross winked to Hannah, ‘I’m used to little veins, and you’re not as sick now, so they’re going to be a lot easier to find and because of the cream you won’t be able to feel it …’

‘No!’

She was starting to really cry now, pulling her arm away as Ross slipped on a tourniquet. The panic that had been building was coming to the fore. He did his best to calm her, but she wasn’t having it. She needed this IV; she had already missed her six a.m. medication, and she was vomiting and not able to hold down any fluids.

‘Hannah, you need this,’ Ross said, and as she had done for several patients now, Annika leant over her, keeping her little body as still as she could as Ross tried to reassure her.

‘Don’t look,’ Annika said, holding the little girl’s frightened gaze. ‘You won’t feel anything.’

‘Just because I can’t see it, I still know that you’re hurting me!’ came the pained little voice, and something inside Annika twisted. She felt so hopeless; she truly didn’t know what to say, or how to comfort the girl.

‘Watch, then,’ Ross said. ‘Let her go.’

He smiled to Annika and she did so, sure that the little girl would jump down from the treatment bed and run, but instead she lay there, staring suspiciously up at Ross.

‘I know you’ve been hurt,’ he said, ‘and I know that in Emergency it would have been painful because the doctor had to have a few goes to get the needle in, but I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘What if you can’t get the needle in, like last time?’

‘I’m quite sure I can,’ Ross said, pressing on a rather nice vein with his olive-skinned finger. ‘But if, for whatever reason, I can’t, then we’ll put some cream elsewhere—you’re not as sick now, and we can wait …’

His voice was completely serious; he wasn’t doing the smiling, reassuring thing that Annika rather poorly attempted.

‘I am going to do everything I can not to hurt you. If for some reason there’s ever a procedure that will hurt, I will tell you, and we’ll work it out, but this one,’ Ross said, ‘isn’t going to hurt.’

He tightened the tourniquet and Hannah watched. He swabbed the vein a couple of times and then got out the needle, and she didn’t cry or move away, she just watched.

‘Even I’m nervous now.’ Ross grinned, and so too did Annika, that tiny pause lifting the mood in the room. Even Hannah managed a little smile. She stared as the needle went in, and flinched, but only because she was expecting pain. When it didn’t come, when the needle was in and Ross was taping it securely in place, her grin grew much wider when Ross told her she had been very brave.

‘Very brave!’ Annika said, like a parrot, because she could never be as at ease with children as he was. She was attaching the IV and Ross was looking through his drug book, working out the new medication regime that he wanted Hannah on.

Brighter now it was all over, Hannah looked up at Annika.

‘You’re pretty.’

‘Thank you.’ She hated this. It was okay when Elsie said it, or one of the oldies, but children were so probing. Annika was still trying to attach the bung, but the little hard bit of plastic proved fiddly, and the last thing she wanted was to mess up the IV access. She almost did when Hannah spoke next.

‘Have you got a boyfriend?’

‘No.’ Her cheeks were on fire, and she could feel Ross looking at her, though she was so not going to look at him.

‘I thought you did, Annika.’ He spoke then to Hannah. ‘He’s a very nice guy, apparently.’

‘It’s very early days.’ The drip was attached, and now she had to strap it in place.

‘I like a boy in my class,’ Hannah said, with a confidence Annika would never possess. ‘He sent me a card, and he wrote that he’s coming to visit me once I’m allowed visitors that aren’t my mum.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘So, where does your boyfriend take you?’ Hannah probed.

‘I’m more a stay-at-home person …’ Annika blew at her fringe and pressed in the numbers. Ross was beside her, checking that the dosage was correct and signing off on the sheet. She could feel that he was laughing, knew he was enjoying her discomfort—and there and then she decided to be brave.

Exceptionally brave—and if it didn’t work she’d blame Cecil and Elsie.

‘I was thinking of asking him over for dinner on Saturday.’ Annika swallowed. She knew her face was on fire, she was cringing and burning, and yet she was also excited.

‘That sounds nice. I’m sure he’d love it,’ was all Ross said.

She got Hannah back to bed, and then, as she went back into the treatment room to prepare Luke’s dressing, Ross came in.

‘I don’t want to talk at work.’

‘Fine.’

‘So can we just keep things separate?’

‘No problem, Annika.’

‘I mean it, Ross.’

‘Of course,’ he said patiently. ‘Annika, do you know where the ten gauge needles are kept? They’ve run out on the IV trolley …’

And he was so matter-of-fact, so absolutely normal in his behaviour towards her, that Annika wondered if she actually had asked him out at all. At six a.m. on a Saturday, when he hadn’t asked for a time, or even an address, she wasn’t sure that she had.

CHAPTER SIX

‘HOW’S the children’s ward?’ Elsie was wide awake before Annika had even flicked the lights on.

‘It’s okay,’ Annika said, and then she admitted the truth. ‘I’ll be glad when it’s over.’

‘What have you got next?’

‘Maternity,’ Annika said, as Elsie slurped her tea.

She seemed to have caught her second wind these past few days: more and more she was lucid, and the lucid times were lasting longer too. She was getting over that nasty UTI, Dianne, the Div 1 nurse had explained. They often caused confusion in the elderly, or, as in Elsie’s case, exacerbated dementia. It was good to have her back.

‘I’m not looking forward to it.’

‘What are you looking forward to?’

‘I don’t know,’ Annika admitted.

‘How’s your boyfriend?’ Elsie asked when they were in the shower, Annika in her gumboots, Elsie in her little shower chair. ‘How’s Ross?’

‘I don’t know that either,’ Annika said, cringing a little when Elsie said his name. ‘It’s complicated.’

‘Love isn’t complicated,’ Elsie said. ‘You are.’

And they had a laugh, a real laugh, as she dried and dressed Elsie and put her in her chair. Then Annika did something she had never done before.

‘I’ve got something for you.’ Nervous, she went to the fridge and brought out her creation.

It was a white chocolate box, filled with chocolate mousse and stuffed with raspberries.

‘Where’s my toast?’ Elsie asked, and that made Annika laugh. Then the old lady peered at the creation and dipped her bony finger into the mousse, licked it, and had a raspberry. ‘You bought this for me?’

‘I made it,’ Annika said. ‘This was my practice one …’ She immediately apologised. ‘Sorry, that sounds rude …’

‘It doesn’t sound rude at all.’

‘You have to spread the white chocolate on parchment paper and then slice it; you only fill the boxes at the end. I did a course a few years ago,’ Annika admitted. ‘Well, I didn’t finish it …’

‘You didn’t need to,’ Elsie said. ‘You could serve this up every night and he’d be happy. This is all you need … it’s delicious …’ Elsie was cramming raspberries in her mouth. ‘This is for your man?’

‘I’m worried he’ll think I’ve gone to too much effort.’

‘Is he worth the effort?’ Elsie asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Then don’t worry.’

‘I think I’ve asked him to dinner tonight.’

‘You think?’ Elsie frowned. ‘What did he say?’

‘That it sounded very nice.’ Annika gulped. ‘Only we haven’t confirmed times. I’m not even sure he knows where I live …’

‘He can find out,’ Elsie said.

‘How?’

‘If he wants to, he will.’

‘So I shouldn’t ring him and check …?’

‘Oh, no!’ Elsie said. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘What if he doesn’t come?’

‘You have to trust that he will.’

‘But what if he doesn’t?’

‘Then you bring in the food for us lot tomorrow,’ Elsie said. ‘Of course he’s coming.’ She put her hands on Annika’s cheeks. ‘Of course he’ll come.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

IT KILLED her not to ring or page him, but Elsie had been adamant.

She had to trust that he would come, and if he didn’t … Well, he had never been going to.

So, when she finished at the nursing home at nine a.m., she went home and had a little sleep, and then went to the Victoria Market. She bought some veal, some cream, the most gorgeous mushrooms, some fresh fettuccini and, of course, some more raspberries.

It was nice to be in the kitchen and stretching herself again.

Melting chocolate, whisking in eggs—she really had loved cooking and learning, but cooking at a high level had to be a passion. It was an absolute passion that Annika had realised she didn’t have.

But still, she could love it.

She didn’t know what to wear. She’d gone to so much trouble with the dessert that she didn’t want to make too massive an effort with her clothes, in case she terrified him.

She opened her wardrobe and stared at a couple of Kolovsky creations. She had a little giggle to herself, wondering about his reaction if she opened the door to him in red velvet, but settled for a white skirt and a lilac top. She put on some lilac sandals, but she never wore shoes at home—well, not at this home—and ten minutes in she had kicked them off. She was dusting the chocolate boxes and trying not to care that it was ten past eight. She checked her hair, which was for once out of its ponytail, and put on some lip-gloss. Then she went to the kitchen, opened the fridge. The chocolate boxes hadn’t collapsed, and the veal was all sliced and floured and waiting—and then she heard the knock at her door.

‘Hi.’ His voice made her stomach shrink.

‘Hi.’

He was holding flowers, and she was so glad that she had taken Elsie’s advice and not rung.

He kissed her on the cheek and handed her the flowers—glorious flowers, all different, wild and fragrant, and tied together with a bow. ‘Hand-picked,’ he said, ‘which is why I’m so late.’

And she smiled, because of course they weren’t. He’d been to some trendy place, no doubt, but she was grateful for them, because they got her through those first awkward moments as he followed her into the kitchen and she located a vase and filled it with water.

Ross was more than a little perplexed.

He hadn’t known quite what to expect from tonight, but he hadn’t expected this.

Okay, he’d known from her address that she wasn’t in the smartest suburb. He hadn’t given it that much thought till he’d entered her street. A trendy converted townhouse, perhaps, he’d thought as he’d pulled up—a Kolovsky attempt at pretending to be poor.

Except her car stuck out like a sore thumb in the street, and as he climbed the steps he saw there was nothing trendy or converted about her flat.

There was an ugly floral carpet, cheap blinds dressed the windows, and not a single thing matched.

The kitchen was a mixture of beige and brown and a little bit of taupe too!

There was a party going on upstairs, and an argument to the left and right. Here in the centre was Annika.

She didn’t belong—so much so he wanted to grab her by the hand and take her back to the farm right now, right this minute.

‘I’ll start dinner.’

She poured some oil in a large wok, turned the gas up on some simmering water, and then glanced over and gave him a nervous smile, which he returned. Then she slipped on an apron.

And it transformed her.

He stood and watched as somehow the tiny kitchen changed.

She pulled open the fridge and put a little meat in the wok. It was rather slow to sizzle, so she pulled out of the fridge some prepared plates, and he watched as she tipped coils of fresh pasta into the water and then threw the rest of the meat into the wok. Her hair was in the way, so she tied it back in a knot. He just carried on watching as this awkward, difficult woman relaxed and transformed garlic, pepper, cream and wine. He had never thought watching someone cook could be so sexy, yet before the water had even returned to the boil Ross was standing on the other side of the bench!

‘Okay?’ Annika checked.

‘Great,’ Ross said.

In seven minutes they were at the table—all those dishes, in a matter of moments, blended into a veal scaloppini that was to die for.

‘When you said dinner …’

‘I love to cook …’

And she loved to eat too.

With food between them, and with wine, somehow, gradually, it got easier.

He told her about his farm—that his sisters didn’t get it, but it must be the gypsy blood in him because there he felt he belonged.

‘I’ve never been to a farm.’

‘Never?’

‘No.’

‘You’re a city girl?’

‘I guess,’ Annika said.

She intrigued him.

‘You used to model?’

‘For a couple of years,’ Annika said. ‘Only in-house.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Just for Kolovsky,’ she explained. ‘I always thought that was what I wanted to do—well, it was expected of me, really—but when I got there it was just hours and hours in make-up, hours and hours hanging around, and …’ she rolled her eyes ‘… no dinners like this.’ She registered his frown. ‘Thin wasn’t thin enough, and I like my food too much.’

‘So you went to Paris …?’

‘I did.’

‘What made you decide to do nursing?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Annika admitted. ‘When my father was ill I watched the nurses caring for him …’ It was hard to explain, so she didn’t. ‘What about you? Are you the same as Iosef? Is medicine your vocation?’

‘Being a doctor was the only thing I ever wanted to be.’

‘Lucky you.’

‘Though when I go to Russia with your brother, sometimes I wonder if there is more than being a doctor in a well-equipped city hospital.’

‘You’re not happy at work?’

‘I’m very happy at work,’ Ross corrected. ‘Sometimes, though, I feel hemmed in—often I feel hemmed in. I just broke up with someone because of it.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I’m supposed to be sworn off women.’

‘I’m not good at hemming.’

Ross laughed. ‘I can’t picture you with a needle.’ And then he was serious. ‘Romanys have this image of being cads—that is certainly my mother’s take. I understand that, but really they are loyal to commitment, and virginity is important to them, which is why they often marry young …’ He gave an embarrassed half-laugh. ‘There is more to them than I understand …’

‘And you need to find out?’

‘I think so,’ Ross answered. ‘Maybe that is why I get on with the orphans in Russia. I am much luckier, of course, but I can relate to them—to that not knowing, never fully knowing where you came from. I don’t know my father’s history.’

‘You could have a touch of Russian in you!’ Annika smiled.

‘Who knows?’ Ross smiled. ‘Do you go back to Russia?’

She shook her head. ‘Levander does, Iosef as you know does work there …’

‘Aleksi?’ Ross asked.

‘He goes, but not for work …’ She gave a shrug. ‘I don’t really know why. I’ve just never felt the need to.’

‘You speak Russian, though?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Only a little—a very little compared to my family.’

‘You have an accent.’

‘Because I refused to speak Russian …’ She smiled at his bemusement. ‘I was a very wilful child. I spoke Russian and a little English till I was five, and then I realised that we lived in Australia. I started to say I didn’t understand Russian—that I only understood English, wanted to speak English.’ He smiled at the image of her as a stubborn five-year-old. ‘It infuriated my mother, and my teacher … I learnt English from Russians, which is why I have an accent. Do you speak Spanish?’

‘Not as much as I’d like to.’

‘You’re going in a couple of weeks?’

‘Yeah.’ And he told her—well, bits … ‘Mum’s upset about it. I think she’s worried I’m going to find my real father and set up camp with him. Run away and leave it all behind …’

‘Are you?’

‘No.’ Ross shook his head. ‘I’d like to meet him, get to know him if I can find him. I only have his first name.’

‘Which is?’

‘Reyes,’ Ross said, and then he gave her a little part of him that he didn’t usually share. ‘That’s actually my real name.’

‘I lived with my father. Every day I saw him,’ Annika said, giving back a little part of herself, ‘but I don’t think I knew him at all.’

‘I know about Levander.’ He watched her swallow. ‘I know that Levander was raised in the Detsky Dom.’

‘Iosef shouldn’t talk.’

‘Iosef and I have spent weeks—no, months, working in Russian orphanages. It’s tough going there—sometimes you need to talk. He hates that Levander was raised there.’

‘My parents were devastated when they found out …’ She was glad she’d read that press release now. ‘On his deathbed my father begged that we set up the foundation …’ Her voice cracked. She was caught between the truth and a lie, and she didn’t know what was real any more. ‘We are holding a big fundraiser soon. If nursing doesn’t work out then I am thinking of working full-time on the board …’

‘Organising fundraisers?’

‘Perhaps.’ She shrugged. ‘I’ll get dessert …’

‘You made these?’ He couldn’t believe it. He took a bite and couldn’t believe it again—and then he said the completely wrong thing. ‘You’re wasted as a nurse.’

And he saw her eyes shutter.

‘I’m sorry, Annika; I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘Don’t worry.’ She smiled. ‘You’re probably right.’

‘Not wasted …’

‘Just leave it.’

‘I can’t leave it,’ Ross said, and her eyes jerked up to his. ‘But I ought to.’

‘At least till I have finished on the ward,’ Annika said, and her throat was so tight she didn’t know how to swallow, and her chocolate box sat unopened.

‘I’ll be in Spain,’ Ross said.

‘Slow is good.’ Annika nodded. ‘I don’t want to rush.’

‘So we just put it on hold?’ Ross checked, and she nodded. ‘Just have dinner?’ He winced. ‘When I say just …

‘Maybe one kiss goodnight,’ Annika relented, because Elsie would be so disappointed otherwise.

‘Sounds good,’ Ross said. ‘Now or later?’

‘You choose.’

Four hours of preparation: tempering the chocolate, slicing the boxes, choosing the best raspberries. And the mousse recipe was a complicated one. All that work, all those hours, slipped deliciously away as he pulled her across the table and her breast sank into her own creation.

His tongue tasted better than anything she could conjure. They both had to stretch, but it was worth it. He tasted of chocolate, and then of him. His hair was in her fingers and she was pressing her face into him, the scratch of his jaw, the press of his lips. She wanted more, so badly she almost climbed onto the table just to be closer, but it was easier to stand. Lips locked, they kissed over the table, and then did a sort of crab walk till they could properly touch—and touch they did.

The most touching it was possible to do with clothes on and standing. She felt his lovely bum, and his jeans, and she pressed him into her. It was still just a kiss, one kiss, but it went on for ever.

‘Oh, Annika,’ he said, when she pulled back for a gulp of air, and then he saw the mess on her top and set to work.

‘That’s not kissing …’ He was kissing her breast through the fabric, sucking off the mousse and the cream, and her fingers were back in his hair.