The Scandalous Kolovskys: Knight on the Children's Ward

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.