she’d been in the country.
‘I’ve brought you your antibiotics,’ Carla said, handing over a box. ‘I picked them up from the pharmacy. It’ll save you fetching them as you go out. You understand you need to take the whole course?’
‘I do. Thank you.’
‘And I wanted to meet you,’ Carla said. ‘You should meet at least one member of the medical staff who doesn’t think your name makes you poison.’
‘Is that what everyone thinks?’
‘Yes,’ she said bluntly. ‘With reason. If you want me to say nice things about your family you should ask me to go away. But I’m not judging you.’
‘That’s good of you,’ she said wryly, and Carla gave her a rueful smile.
‘Sorry. But I thought I should lay our cards on the table. Something I suspect Victoir won’t do on our behalf. Maybe not even Leo.’
‘Your cards?’
‘The country’s cards.’
‘Right,’ Anna said, and the ache in her head suddenly returned. Or maybe it was a different ache. It was the dull throb that had been there ever since she’d realised the enormity of her inheritance.
Strangely, Carla was putting her own hand to her head. Matching headaches? The last thing Anna wanted to do now was talk about the complexities she’d inherited, but she could see strain in the older woman’s eyes. She suspected that what was about to be said would be hard to say.
‘What’s Leo told you about our country?’ Carla asked.
‘You know I know Leo?’
‘He said you dated briefly, at med school. Did he explain the set-up here?’
Briefly? The word hung. It hurt. But she wouldn’t talk about Leo. He didn’t fit into this conversation—in any conversation she intended having.
Briefly…
‘You know the Castlavarans own everything on this island,’ Carla was saying. ‘Everything. We’re a tiny country. We should be centrally governed by a larger state but we’ve always been independent. Our own language. Our own resources. And, sadly, our own official family, a family that’s scourged the land for its own ends and paid to subdue any unrest.’
‘I understand that,’ Anna said stiffly. ‘I also understand there’s little I can do about it for now. You know about the Trust? The terms of inheritance are that money from the estate is tightly held, used only for the upkeep of the castle or for my personal welfare. There’s a twenty-year holding period before I can change that. Victoir says the Trust was put in place to prevent wild spending by past Castlavarans.
‘I have trouble understanding the complexities, but legal opinion says I can’t break it. It seems it’s best if I go home, forget about it for twenty years and then put a team of lawyers in place to try and sort the mess out.’ The ache in her head seemed to tighten. ‘Even that boggles me.’
‘I can imagine. But meanwhile you could try and help.’
‘Like how?’
‘Well, a steriliser for a start,’ Carla said, suddenly sounding hopeful. And a little bit cheeky? She lifted a spoon from the cup and saucer, left from Anna’s morning’s coffee. ‘This spoon, for instance. This is for your personal use and you’re fussy. You could order a steriliser right now, to be delivered as soon as possible. We can’t help it if you’re discharged before you get to use it, and you could graciously allow us to use it until you need it again.’
Anna’s lips twitched, and for the first time in what seemed weeks she found room to smile. In the enormity of what she’d been landed with, this seemed tiny, but the lovely thing about it was that it was something she could do right now.
Carla was looking hopeful, her head cocked to one side. Wondering if she was up to the challenge?
Maybe she was. Fun. The word was suddenly right before her. This was a baby step in how her life could continue from now on, but…could she have fun with this? Could she be of use?
‘You know,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘These sheets are scratchy. My welfare decrees I should order non-scratchy sheets, just in case I’m ever admitted again. Could you put in a requisition? Linen can’t be kept apart in the hospital laundry so maybe enough for the whole hospital?’
‘Yes!’ Carla said, chuckling with delight. ‘I knew you couldn’t be as bad as your cousin. And what about coffee? You surely can’t be expected to drink…’ But then she paused. She put a hand to her head in a gesture Anna understood. Her own head hurt.
But this was suddenly more than that. Carla’s pain seemed to intensify. Her eyes widened and she grabbed for the foot of the bed, as if to steady herself.
And swayed.
And Anna moved as she’d never moved before. She reached her and hugged her under her arms, taking her weight as she sagged against her.
As Carla’s eyes became sightless. As her knees buckled.
As she crumpled to the floor.
Leo was in the nursery, checking the tiny baby who’d been born the night before. It was a good moment in what promised to be a frantic day. He gazed down at the newborn bundle and thought, This is what it’s all about. Forget Anna. Forget the Castlavarans. Focus on what’s important.
And then his buzzer…
Code blue.
He was out the nursery before he realised.
Room Twelve. Anna’s room.
Code blue meant cardiac or respiratory arrest, or similar medical emergency.
Anna?
What had he missed? Internal bleed? What?
He didn’t run—he didn’t need to. He’d pretty much perfected his hospital stride, so running would make him no faster.
He turned the corner to Room Twelve and Maria was in front of him, pushing the crash cart.
‘Anna…’ he said, and he couldn’t keep the fear from his voice.
‘Worse,’ Maria managed. ‘It’s Carla.’
She’d hit the call button and then she’d yelled. The junior nurse who’d helped shower her had arrived in seconds, taken one look and bolted for help.
Carla vomited as she reached the floor. The first couple of moments were frantic, clearing Carla’s airway, getting her into the recovery position, trying to assess her breathing. Anna was crouched on the floor, willing help to arrive. Trying to see what she was coping with.
