Knight on the Children's Ward

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘My shift tomorrow. How do you know?’

  And that he couldn’t answer—but the beat of silence did.

  He’d checked.

  Not deliberately—he hadn’t swiped keys and found the nursing roster—but as he’d left the ward he had glanced up at the whiteboard and seen that she was on tomorrow.

  He had noted to himself that she was on tomorrow.

  ‘I saw the whiteboard.’

  And she could have sworn that he blushed. Oh, his cheeks didn’t flare like a match to a gas ring, as Annika’s did—he was far too laid-back for that, and his skin was so much darker—but there was something that told her he was embarrassed. He blinked, and then his lips twitched in a very short smile, and then he blinked again. There was no colour as such to his eyes—in fact they were blacker than black, so much so that she couldn’t even make out his pupils. He was staring, and so was she. They were sitting in an all-night coffee shop. She was in her uniform and he was telling her off for working, and yet she was sure there was more.

  Almost sure.

  ‘So, Iosef told you to keep an eye out for me?’ she said, though more for her own benefit—that smile wouldn’t fool her again.

  ‘He said that he was worried about you, that you’d pretty much cut yourself off from your family.’

  ‘I haven’t,’ Annika said, and normally that would have been it. Everything that was said stayed in the family, but Ross was Iosef’s friend and she was quite sure he knew more. ‘I see my mother each week; I am attending a family charity ball soon. Iosef and I argued, but only because he thinks I’m just playing at nursing.’

  This wasn’t news to Ross. Iosef had told him many things—how Annika was spoilt, how she stuck at nothing, how nursing was her latest flight of fancy. Of course Ross could not say this, so he just sat as she continued.

  ‘I have not cut myself off from my family. Aleksi and I are close…’ She saw his jaw tighten, as everyone’s did these days when her brother’s name was mentioned. Aleksi was trouble. Aleksi, now head of the Kolovsky fortune, was a loose cannon about to explode at any moment. Annika was the only one he was close to; even his twin Iosef was being pushed aside as Aleksi careered out of control. She looked down at her coffee then, but it blurred, so she pressed her fingers into her eyes.

  ‘You can talk to me,’ Ross said.

  ‘Why would I?’

  ‘Because that’s what people do,’ Ross said. ‘Some people you know you can talk to, and some people…’ He stopped then. He could see she didn’t understand, and neither really did Ross. He swallowed down the words he had been about to utter and changed tack. ‘I am going to Spain in three, nearly four weeks.’ He smiled at her frown. ‘Caroline doesn’t know; Admin doesn’t know. In truth, they are going to be furious when they find out. I am putting off telling them till I have spoken with a friend who I am hoping can cover for me…’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because I’m asking you to tell me things you’d rather no one else knew.’

  She took her fingers out of her eyes and looked up to find that smile.

  ‘It would be rude not to share,’ he said.

  He was dangerous.

  She could almost hear her mother’s rule that you discussed family with no one breaking.

  ‘My mother does not want me to nurse,’ Annika tentatively explained. And the skies didn’t open with a roar, missiles didn’t engage. There was just the smell of coffee and the warmth of his eyes. ‘She has cut me off financially until I come back home. I still see her, I still go over and I still attend functions. I haven’t cut myself off. It is my mother who has cut me off—financially, anyway. That’s why I’m working these shifts.’

  He didn’t understand—actually, he didn’t fully believe it.

  He could guess at what her car was worth, and he knew from his friend that Annika was doted upon. Then there was Aleksi and his billions, and Iosef, even if they argued, would surely help her out.

  ‘Does Iosef know you’re doing extra shifts?’

  ‘We don’t talk much,’ Annika admitted. ‘We don’t get on; we just never have. I was always a daddy’s girl, the little princess… Levander, my older brother, thinks the same…’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘I was always pleading with them to toe the line, to stop making waves in the family. Iosef is just waiting for me to quit.’

  ‘Iosef cares about you.’

  ‘He offers me money,’ Annika scoffed. ‘But really he is just waiting for this phase to be over. If I want money I will ask Aleksi, but, really, how can I be independent if all I do is cash cheques?’

  ‘And how can you study and do placements and be a Kolovsky if you’re cramming in extra shifts everywhere?’

  She didn’t know how, because she was failing at every turn.

  ‘I get by,’ she settled for. ‘I have learnt that I can blowdry my own hair, that foils every month are not essential, that a massage each week and a pedicure and manicure…’ Her voice sounded strangled for a moment. ‘I am spoilt, as my brothers have always pointed out, and I am trying to learn not to be, but I keep messing up.’

  ‘Tell me?’

  She was surprised when she opened her screwed up eyes, to see that he was smiling.

  ‘Tell me how you mess up?’

  ‘I used to eat a lot of takeaway,’ she admitted, and he was still smiling, so she was more honest, and Ross found out that Annika’s idea of takeaway wasn’t the same as his! ‘I had the restaurants deliver.’

  ‘Can’t you cook?’

  ‘I’m a fantastic cook,’ Annika answered.

  ‘That’s right.’ Ross grinned. ‘I remember Iosef saying you were training as a pastry chef…in Paris?’ he checked.

  ‘I was only there six months.’ Annika wrinkled her nose. ‘I had given up on modelling and I so badly wanted to go. It took me two days to realise I had made a mistake, and then six months to pluck up the courage to admit defeat. I had made such a fuss, begged to go…Like I did for nursing.’

  He didn’t understand.

  He thought of his own parents—if he’d said that he wanted to study life on Mars they’d have supported him. But then he’d always known what he wanted to do. Maybe if one year it had been Mars, the next Venus and then Pluto, they’d have decided otherwise. Maybe this was tough love that her mother thought she needed to prove that nursing was what she truly wanted to do.

  ‘So you can cook?’ It was easier to change the subject.

  ‘Gourmet meals, the most amazing desserts, but a simple dinner for one beats me every time…’ She gave a tight shrug. ‘But I’m slowly learning.’

  ‘How else have you messed up?’

  She couldn’t tell him, but he was still smiling, so maybe she could.

  ‘I had a credit card,’ she said. ‘I have always had one, but I just sent the bill to our accountants each month…’

  ‘Not now?’

  ‘No.’

  Her voice was low and throaty, and Ross found himself leaning forward to catch it.

  ‘It took me three months to work out that they weren’t settling it, and I am still paying off that mistake.’

  ‘But you love nursing?’ Ross said, and then frowned when she shook her head.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Annika admitted. ‘Sometimes I don’t even know why I am doing this. It’s the same as when I wanted to be a pastry chef, and then I did jewellery design—that was a mistake too.’

  ‘Do you think you’ve made a mistake with nursing?’ Ross asked.

  Annika gave a tight shrug and then shook her head—he was hardly the person to voice her fears to.

  ‘You can talk to me, Annika. You can trust that it won’t—’

  ‘Trust?’ She gave him a wide-eyed look. ‘Why would I trust you?’

  It was the strangest answer, and one he wasn’t expecting. Yet why should she trust him? Ross pondered. All he knew was that she could.

&n
bsp; ‘You need to get home and get some rest,’ Ross settled for—except he couldn’t quite leave it there. ‘How about dinner…?’

  And this was where every woman jumped, this was where Ross always kicked himself and told himself to slow down, because normally they never made it to dinner. Normally, about an hour from now, they were pinning the breakfast menu on the nearest hotel door or hot-footing it back to his city abode—only this was Annika, who instead drained her coffee and stood up.

  ‘No, thank you. It would make things difficult at work.’

  ‘It would,’ Ross agreed, glad that one of them at least was being sensible.

  ‘Can I ask that you don’t tell Caroline or anyone about this?’

  ‘Can I ask that you save these shifts for your days off, or during your holidays?’

  ‘No.’

  They walked out to the car park, to his dusty ute and her powder-blue car. Ross was relaxed and at ease, Annika a ball of tension, so much so that she jumped at the bleep of her keys as she unlocked the car.

  ‘I’m not going to say anything to Caroline.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Just be careful, okay?’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘You can’t mess up on any ward, but especially not on children’s.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Annika said. ‘I don’t. I am always so, so careful…’ And she was. Her brain hurt because she was so careful, pedantic, and always, always checked. Sometimes it would be easier not to care so.

  ‘Go home and go to bed,’ Ross said. ‘Will you be okay to drive?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He didn’t want her to drive; he wanted to bundle her into his ute and take her back to the farm, or head back into the coffee shop and talk till three a.m., or, maybe just kiss her?

  Except he was being sensible now.

  ‘Night, then,’ he said.

  ‘Goodnight.’

  Except neither of them moved.

  ‘Why are you going to Spain?’ Unusually, it was Annika who broke the silence.

  ‘To sort out a few things.’

  ‘I’m staying here for a few weeks,’ Annika said, with just a hint of a smile. ‘To sort out a few things.’

  ‘It will be nice,’ Ross said, ‘when things are a bit more sorted.’

  ‘Very nice,’ Annika agreed, and wished him goodnight again.

  ‘If you change your mind…’ He snapped his mouth closed; he really mustn’t go there.

  Annika was struggling. She didn’t want to get into her car. She wanted to climb into the ute with him, to forget about sorting things out for a little while. She wanted him to drive her somewhere secluded. She wanted the passion those black eyes promised, wanted out of being staid, and wanted to dive into recklessness.

  ‘Drive carefully.’

  ‘You too.’

  They were talking normally—extremely politely, actually—yet their minds were wandering off to dangerous places: lovely, lovely places that there could be no coming back from.

  ‘Go,’ Ross said, and she felt as if he were kissing her. His eyes certainly were, and her body felt as if he were.

  She was shaking as she got in the car, and the key was too slim for the slot. She had to make herself think, had to slow her mind down and turn on the lights and then the ignition.

  He was beside her at the traffic lights. Ross was indicating right for the turn to the country; Annika aimed straight for the city.

  It took all her strength to go straight on.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ELSIE frowned from her pillow when Annika awoke her a week later at six a.m. with a smile.

  ‘What are you so cheerful about?’ Elsie asked dubiously. She often lived in the past, but sometimes in the morning she clicked to the present, and those were the mornings Annika loved best.

  She recognised Annika—oh, not all of the time, sometimes she spat and swore at the intrusion, but some mornings she was Elsie, with beady eyes and a generous glimpse of a once sharp mind.

  ‘I just am.’

  ‘How’s the children’s ward?’ Elsie asked. Clearly even in that fog-like existence she mainly inhabited somehow she heard the words Annika said, even if she didn’t appear to at the time.

  Annika was especially nice to Elsie. Well, she was nice to all the oldies, but Elsie melted her heart. The old lady had shrunk to four feet tall and there was more fat on a chip. She swore, she spat, she growled, and every now and then she smiled. Annika couldn’t help but spoil her, and sometimes it annoyed the other staff, because many showers had to be done before the day shift appeared, and there really wasn’t time to make drinks, but Elsie loved to have a cup of milky tea before she even thought about moving and Annika always made her one. The old lady sipped on it noisily as Annika sorted out her clothes for the day.

  ‘It’s different on the children’s ward,’ Annika said. ‘I’m not sure if I like it.’

  ‘Well, if it isn’t work that’s making you cheerful then I want to know what is. It has to be a man.’

  ‘I’m just in a good mood.’

  ‘It’s a man,’ Elsie said. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘I’m not saying.’

  ‘Why not? I tell you about Bertie.’

  This was certainly true!

  ‘Ross.’ Annika helped her onto the shower chair. ‘And that’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘Are you courting?’

  Annika grinned at the old-fashioned word.

  ‘No,’ Annika said.

  ‘Has he asked you out?’

  ‘Sort of,’ Annika said as she wheeled her down to the showers. ‘Just for dinner, but I said no.’

  ‘So you’re just flirting, then!’ Elsie beamed. ‘Oh, you lucky, lucky girl. I loved flirting.’

  ‘We’re not flirting, Elsie,’ Annika said. ‘In fact we’re now ignoring each other.’

  ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘Just leave it, Elsie.’

  ‘Flirt!’ Elsie insisted as Annika pulled her nightgown over her head. ‘Ask him out.’

  ‘Enough, Elsie,’ Annika attempted, but it was like pulling down a book and having the whole shelf toppling down on you. Elsie was on a roll, telling her exactly what she’d have done, how the worst thing she should do was play it cool.

  On and on she went as Annika showered her, though thankfully, once Annika had popped in her teeth, Elsie’s train of thought drifted back to her beloved Bertie, to the sixty wonderful years they had shared, to shy kisses at the dance halls he had taken her to and the agony of him going to war. She talked about how you must never let the sun go down on a row, and she chatted away about Bertie, their wedding night and babies as Annika dressed her, combed her hair, and then wheeled her back to her room.

  ‘You must miss him,’ Annika said, arranging Elsie’s table, just as she did every morning she worked there, putting her glasses within reach, her little alarm clock, and then Elsie and Bertie’s wedding photo in pride of place.

  ‘Sometimes,’ Elsie said, and then her eyes were crystal-clear, ‘but only when I’m sane.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I get to relive our moments, over and over…’ Elsie smiled, and then she was gone, back to her own world, the moment of clarity over. She did not talk as Annika wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and put on her slippers.

  ‘Enjoy it,’ Annika said to her favourite resident.

  He had his ticket booked, and four weeks’ unpaid leave reluctantly granted. They had wanted him to take paid leave but, as Ross had pointed out, that was all saved up for his trips to Russia. This hadn’t gone down too well, and Ross had sat through a thinly veiled warning from the Head of Paediatrics—there was no such thing as a part-time consultant and, while his work overseas was admirable, there were plenty of charities here in Australia he could support.

  As he walked through the canteen that evening, the conversation played over in his mind. He could feel the tentacles of bureaucracy tightening around him. He wanted this day over, to be back at his
farm, where there were no rules other than to make sure the animals were fed.

  His intention had been to get some chocolate from the vending machine, but he saw Annika, and thought it would be far more sensible to keep on walking. Instead, he bought a questionable cup of coffee from another machine and, uninvited, went over.

  ‘Hi!’

  He didn’t ask if he could join her; he simply sat down.

  She was eating a Greek salad and had pushed all the olives to one side.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Nice apron.’ She was emblazoned with fairies and wands, and he could only laugh that she hated it so.

  ‘It was the only one left,’ Annika said. ‘Ross, if I do write my notice—if I do give up nursing—in my letter there will be a long paragraph devoted to being made to wear aprons.’

  ‘So you’re thinking of it?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I asked for a weekend off. There is a family function—there is no question that I don’t go. I requested it ages ago, when I found out that I would be on the children’s ward. I sent a memo, but it got lost, apparently.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Caroline has changed my late shift on Saturday to an early, and she has changed the early shift on Sunday to a late. She wasn’t pleased, though, and neither am I.’ She looked over to him. ‘I have to get ready….’ And then her voice trailed off, because it sounded ridiculous, and how could he possibly know just what getting ready for a family function entailed?

  And he didn’t understand her, but he wanted to.

  And, yes, he was sworn off women, and she had said no to dinner, and, yes, it could get very messy, but right now he didn’t care.

  He should get up and go.

  Yet he couldn’t.

  Quiet simply, he couldn’t.

  ‘I told them I’m going to Spain.’

  She looked at his grim face and guessed it hadn’t gone well. ‘It will be worth it when you’re there, I’m sure.’

  ‘Do you ever want to go to Russia?’ Ross asked. ‘To see where you are from.’

  ‘I was born here.’

  ‘But your roots…’

  ‘I might not like what I dig up.’