CAROL MARINELLI - The Scandalous Kolovskys - Knight on the Children's Ward

‘Don’t rush off.’ For the first time ever he looked uncomfortable.

‘What will they think, though?’ Annika asked, because if her mother had turned up suddenly on a Sunday evening to find a man at her home she would think plenty—and no doubt say it too.

‘That I’ve got a friend over for the afternoon,’ Ross said, but she knew he was uncomfortable.

As they rode back her heart was hammering in her chest—especially when another car pulled up and several more Wyatt family members piled out. His father was very formal, his sisters both much paler in colouring than Ross, and his mother, Estella, was raven-haired and glamorous. Grandchildren were unloaded from the car. His sisters said hi and bye, and relieved them of their horses before heading out for a ride in what was left of the sun.

‘Hi, Imelda!’

The sun must have gone behind a cloud, because it was decidedly chilly.

‘This is Annika,’ Ross said evenly. ‘She’s a friend from the hospital. Iosef’s sister …’

‘Oh, my mistake.’ His mother gave a grim smile. ‘It’s just with the blonde hair, and given that she’s wearing Imelda’s things, you’ll forgive me for being confused.’

Ross’s brain lurched, because never before had his mother shown her claws.

She had never been anything other than a friend to him, but now she was stomping inside. A row that had never before happened between them was about to start—and it was terrible timing, because he had to deal with Annika as well.

‘Imelda?’

‘My ex,’ Ross said.

‘How ex?’

‘A few weeks.’

And she wasn’t happy with that, so she demanded dates and he told her.

‘Was there time to change the sheets?’

‘Annika, I never said I didn’t have a past.’

‘And I’m standing here dressed in her things!’

‘It’s not as bad as it sounds …’

‘It’s worse,’ Annika said. ‘Can you get my keys?’

‘Don’t go.’

‘What—do you expect me to go in and make small talk with your family? Can you please go and get my things?’

It was like two patients collapsing simultaneously at work. Two blistering things he had to deal with.

Annika refused to bend—she wanted her keys and no more.

Ross stomped into the house.

‘What the hell?’ His voice was a roar. ‘How dare you do that to her?’

‘She’ll thank me!’ Estella shouted. ‘And don’t, Reyes—don’t even try to justify it to me. “I’ve got to sort myself out.” “I want to find myself.” “I’m not getting involved with anyone …”‘ She hurled back everything he had said, and then she called him a cabrón too! He vaguely remembered it meant a bastard. ‘I had Imelda on the phone last night, and again this morning. You shred these girls’ hearts and we’re supposed to say nothing ?’

‘Annika’s different!’

‘Oh, it’s different this time, is it?’ Estella shouted, and the windows were open, so Ross knew Annika could hear. ‘Because apparently you said that to Imelda too!’

And then she really let him have it.

Really!

She called him every name she could think of. Later, Ross would realise that she had probably been talking to Reyes senior. Every bit of hurt his biological father had caused his mother, all the shame, anger and fury that had never come out, had chosen that afternoon to do so.

And his time was up. Annika was storming through the house, finding her keys for herself as his mother continued unabated.

Ross raced out behind her to the car.

‘It’s not that bad …’

‘Really?’ Annika gave him a wide-eyed look as she turned the key in the ignition. ‘From the sounds inside your home, you’re the only who thinks that way.’

‘You’re just going to drive off …?’ He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t like rows, but he didn’t walk away from them either. ‘All that’s happened between us and you’ll just let it go …?’

‘Watch me!’ Annika said, and she did just that. She gunned the car down his drive, still dressed in Imelda’s things. His mother’s words about her own son still ringing in her ears.

It was only when she went into her flat, kicked off her boots and ripped off those clothes that she calmed down.

Well, she didn’t calm down, exactly, but she realised it wasn’t that she had been wearing Imelda’s things, or what his mother had said, or anything straightforward that had made her so angry. It was that, just like her family, he had fed her a half-truth.

And, as she had with her family, she had been foolish enough to trust him.

ELSIE was right—you should never let the sun go down on a row, because as the days moved on life got more complicated. It was cold and lonely up there on her high horse, and next Tuesday Ross flew out to Spain. More importantly, her midway report on her time with the children’s ward was less than impressive, and she was considering the very real good she could do working on the family foundation board.

She wanted his wisdom.

She attempted a smile, even tried to strike up a conversation. She finally resorted to wearing the awful wizard apron that always garnered comment. But Ross didn’t bat an eye.

Because Ross was sulking too.

Yes, he’d messed up, but the fact that she hadn’t let him explain incensed him. His mother, two minutes after Annika had left, had burst into tears, and George had had to give her a brandy.

Then George, who had always been a touch lacking in the emotion department, had started to cry and revealed he was dreading losing his son!

Ross had problems too!

So he ignored her—wished he could stop thinking about her, but ignored her.

Even on Saturday.

Even as she left the ward, still he didn’t look up.

‘Enjoy the ball!’ Caroline called. ‘You can tell us all about it tomorrow.’

‘I will,’ Annika said. ‘See you then.’

He could feel her eyes on the top of his head as he carried on writing his notes.

‘See you, Ross.’

Consultants didn’t need to look up; he just gave her a very clipped response as he continued to write.

‘Yep.’

Annika consoled herself that this was progress.

‘You’re not working this afternoon, are you?’ Dianne frowned as Annika came into the office.

‘No,’ Annika said. ‘I just popped in to check my roster.’

It was a lie and everyone knew it. She wasn’t due for a shift for another week, and anyway she could have rung to check. She had, to her mother’s disgust, worked on the children’s ward this morning, but they had let her go home early. Instead of taking advantage of those extra two hours, and racing to her mother’s to have her hair put up and her make-up applied for the ball, she’d popped in to check her roster.

‘How’s Elsie?’ Annika asked. ‘I rang yesterday and the GP was coming in …’

‘She’s not doing so well, Annika,’ Dianne said. ‘She’s got another UTI, and he thinks she might have had an infarct.’

‘Is she in hospital?’

‘She’s here,’ Dianne said, ‘and we’re making her as comfortable as we can. Why don’t you go in and see her?’

Annika did. Elsie wasn’t particularly confused, but she didn’t recognize Annika out of uniform.

‘Is any family coming?’ Annika asked Dianne.

‘Her daughter’s in Western Australia, and she’s seventy,’ Dianne said. ‘She’s asked that we keep her informed.’

Annika sat with Elsie for a little while longer, but her phone kept going off, which disturbed the old lady, so in the end Annika kissed Elsie goodbye and asked Dianne if she could ring later.

‘Of course,’ Dianne said. ‘She’s your friend.’