The Scandalous Kolovskys: Knight on the Children's Ward. Carol Marinelli
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her, his grey eyes were cold, his responses slightly scathing.
‘I’ve heard marvellous things about your outreach programme!’ Annika attempted.
‘What things?’ Zakahr asked with a slight smirk, but Annika had done her homework and spoke with him about the soup kitchen and the drop-in centre, and the regular health checks available for the street children. She had heard that Zakahr was also implementing a casual education programme, with access to computers …
‘We would love to support that,’ Nina gushed, and then dashed off.
‘Tell me, Annika?’ Zakahr said when they were alone. ‘How much do you think it costs to clear a conscience?’
She looked into the cool grey eyes that seemed to see right into her soul and felt as if a hand was squeezing her throat, but Zakahr just smiled.
‘I think our support for the education programme is assured,’ she said.
He knew, and he knew, and it made her feel sick.
Soon everyone would know, and she could hardly stand it. She wanted to hide, to step off the world till it all blew over, but somehow she had to live through it and be there for her mother too.
‘Excuse me …’ She turned to go, to escape to the loo, to get away from the throng—except there was no escape tonight, because she collided into a chest and, though she didn’t see his face for a second, the scent of him told her that a difficult night had just become impossible.
‘Ross.’ Annika swallowed hard, looked up, and almost wished she hadn’t.
Always she had considered him beautiful; tonight he was devastatingly handsome.
He was in a dinner suit, his long black hair slicked back, his tie knotted perfectly, his shirt gleaming against his dark skin, his earring glittering. His face was, for the first time, completely cleanshaven. She looked for the trademark mockery, except there was none.
‘How come …?’ She shook her head. She had never for a second factored him into tonight, had never considered that their worlds might collide here.
‘I work in the orphanages with your brother.’ Ross shrugged. ‘It’s a very good cause.’
‘Of course.’ Annika swallowed. ‘But …’ She didn’t continue. How could she? This was her world, and she had never envisaged him entering it.
‘I’m also here for the chance to talk to you.’
‘There’s really not much to say.’
‘You’d let it all go for a stupid misunderstanding? Let everything go over one single row?’
‘Yes,’ Annika said—because her family’s shame was more than she could reveal, because it was easier to go back to the fold alone than to even try to blend him in.
‘Hello!’ Nina was all smiles. Seeing her daughter speaking to a stranger, she wormed her way in for a rapid introduction, lest it be someone famous she hadn’t met, or a contact she hadn’t pursued.
‘This is my mother, Nina.’ Annika’s lips were so rigid she could hardly get the words out. ‘Mother, this is Ross Wyatt—Dr Ross Wyatt.’
‘I work at the hospital with Annika; I’m also a friend of Iosef’s.’ Ross smiled.
Only in her family was friendship frowned upon; only for the Kolovskys was a doctor, a working doctor, considered common.
Oh, Nina didn’t say as much, and Ross probably only noticed her smile and heard her twenty seconds of idle chatter, but Annika could see the veins in her mother’s neck, see the unbreakable glass that was her mother’s eyes frost as she came face to face with the ‘filthy gypsy’ Iosef had spoken so often about.
She glanced over to Annika.
‘You need to work the room, darling.’
So she did—as she had done many times. She made polite conversation, laughing at the right moment and serious when required. But she could feel Ross’s eyes on her, could sometimes see him chatting with Iosef, and a job that had always been hard was even harder tonight.
She was the centre of attention, the jewel in the Kolovsky crown, and she had to sparkle on demand.
Just as she had been paraded for the grown-ups on her birthdays as a child, or later at dinner parties, so she was paraded tonight.
Iosef, Aleksi, and later Levander had all teased her, mocked her, because in her parents’ eyes Annika had been able to do no wrong. Annika had been the favourite, Annika the one who behaved, who toed the line. Yes, she had, but they just didn’t understand how hard that had been.
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