‘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.’