Hannah. Betty Neels
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her neat head bowed over the scrap on her knee, tried to think of someone whom her mother would accept as a companion for a few weeks. She could call to mind no one at all.
Presently, her two patients comfortable, she tidied everything away, and with the promise of sending coffee as soon as she could reach the kitchen, she picked up her tray and left the room. She was halfway along the corridor when she met Uncle Valentijn. He passed her with a coolly courteous good morning and a glance which didn’t really see her. She doubted very much if he remembered who she was.
CHAPTER TWO
BUT HANNAH WAS WRONG. Uncle Valentijn greeted his favourite niece with a kiss, peered at the baby and asked: ‘What have you been saying to your so sensible Hannah? She was fairly dancing down the corridor.’
He was told with such a wealth of detail that finally he put up a large, well-kept hand. ‘Now let me get this straight. She’s to go back with you? A splendid idea; she’s been with you both since you were admitted, hasn’t she? She seems a very calm young woman, hard-working and presumably unencumbered by boy-friends?’
‘Well, you make her sound very dull!’ declared Mevrouw van Eysink indignantly.
‘She is not what I would call eye-catching.’ He was laughing at her.
‘Pooh, I’d rather have her than six of your Nerissas—lanky, self-centred…’
Uncle Valentijn’s eyebrows drew together and the smile disappeared. ‘Perhaps I should mention to you that Nerissa and I have just become engaged.’
‘Oom Valentijn, you haven’t!—it’s a joke!’
‘No, it is time that I married again. I’m nearly forty, you know, liefje. Nerissa is a lovely girl, very chic and good company.’
‘Is that what you want?’ His niece’s voice was quite shrill. ‘Don’t you want to love someone and be loved and give you a nice family?’
He got up and walked over to the window. He said flatly: ‘I used to think that I did. Nerissa and I suit each other very well; I think I am past the fine raptures of youth.’ He added soberly: ‘And I’ll thank you to be courteous to my future wife at all times.’
He turned round and smiled at her, but his eyes were angry, so that she said weakly: ‘Yes, of course, Uncle Valentijn,’ and then to change the subject as quickly as possible, ‘What shall I do about Hannah? Her mother—it seems she is likely to make it difficult for Hannah to come with us. Not that Hannah said so, but the nurse who relieves her told me that Mrs Lang is a very selfish woman; she is a widow and has been spoilt all her life. Hannah goes out very seldom, I am told, because although her mother is never unpleasant, she makes Hannah feel guilty. And I am sure that she hasn’t enough money to get a companion, and even then her mother might refuse to have such a person. What am I to do?’ She raised tearful blue eyes to her listener.
‘You’ve set your heart on having Hannah, haven’t you?’
‘She saved little Paul’s life when everyone else said that he had no chance, and she made me be brave. If anything should happen to little Paul now…’
‘In that case we must think of something, must we not?’ He turned round as a ward maid came in with the coffee tray. ‘Leave it to me, my dear.’
Stowing her worries away behind a calm face, Hannah worked her way through her day and then took herself off home, reluctant to have to explain what her mother would regard as unwelcome news, and still vainly searching for some argument which her mother might agree to. Not that that lady would refuse point blank, nor would she rant and rave, but she would weep a little and point out that she led a lonely life and Hannah mustn’t consider her, so that Hannah, with her too soft heart, would give in.
And Mevrouw van Eysink had made her promise to go and see her when she got back to the hospital, declaring dramatically that she wouldn’t sleep until she knew if Hannah was to go with them or not, and because the staff nurse on night duty was a friend of Hannah’s and would turn a blind eye to a late visit, she had agreed, which added yet another worry, for how was she to explain if her mother had made it quite impossible for her to go with baby Paul?
She made her way home with mixed feelings—reluctance to start an argument with her mother, and eagerness to get it over, and as luck would have it, the bus was dead on time and had never gone so fast. She found herself walking down the street, only a few steps from the front door, with not a thought in her head.
As she turned the key in the lock she was surprised to hear her mother’s quite cheerful voice call: ‘Oh, there you are! I was expecting you—come in and tell me all about it.’
Hannah advanced cautiously into the sitting room, to find her mother sitting in her favourite chair with, of all things, a tray with glasses and a bottle of sherry upon it.
‘Whatever…?’ began Hannah, quite at a loss.
Her mother smiled archly. ‘I’ve had a charming visitor. Such a delightful man—Doctor van Bertes—an important figure in the medical world, I imagine. Your patient’s uncle, and so anxious about the little baby. It seems you are the only nurse he cares to trust him with and he came to beg me to manage without you for a few weeks.’ She smiled to herself. ‘He quite understood that I needed someone to care for me and he fully appreciated the sacrifice I would be making, and he begged me—oh, so charmingly!—to allow him to substitute your occasional help with a very good woman of his acquaintance who would come each morning and see to the household, do the shopping and cook me a little meal. Of course, how could I refuse such a generous offer?’ She added peevishly: ‘I don’t know why you couldn’t have told me about it sooner, Hannah.’
‘I didn’t know, Mother. That’s why I came home this evening—to tell you.’ Hannah took a deep breath and tried not to sound eager. ‘You agreed to Doctor van Bertes’ suggestion?’
‘That’s what I’ve just said if you’d been listening.’ Her mother’s voice was sharp. ‘Now you’re here, I could fancy an omelette—but have a glass of this excellent sherry first. Doctor van Bertes sent me half a dozen bottles with his compliments and thanks.’
Hannah needed a drink. She sipped with appreciation while she brooded on Uncle Valentijn; a man of resource and a bit high-handed too—supposing, just supposing she hadn’t wanted to go? She had said that she did, though, and Mevrouw van Eysink must have voiced her doubts to him. Probably he considered that she was incapable of arranging her own affairs. Which, she considered fairly, was perfectly true.
She drank her sherry, got a dainty supper for her mother while that lady reiterated her high opinion of Uncle Valentijn and presently took her departure. It was still fairly early and although she had had a cup of coffee with her mother she hadn’t had her own supper, and although she was a sensible girl and independent she wasn’t all that keen on going into one of the small cafés near the hospital. She could, of course, see what there was on the ward when she went to see Mevrouw van Eysink. She sat in the almost empty bus thinking about clothes and should she wear uniform, and what about off duty and who was going to pay her, and had to be roused by a friendly conductor when the bus stopped by the hospital. She was still pondering these as she went up to the Prem. Unit, where she found her friend in the office, reading the report for the second time.
She looked up as Hannah went in. ‘Hullo. Mevrouw van Eysink’s waiting for you—says she won’t go to sleep until you’ve seen her. You lucky devil, Hannah, going to Holland—I expect they’ve got pots of money and you’ll live off the fat of the land. Why can’t these things happen to me?’
‘Well, you don’t need them,’ observed Hannah. ‘You’re getting married in six months and then you’ll be able to do your own housekeeping and live off the fat of the land yourself.’
Her companion laughed. ‘On a house surgeon’s salary? You must be joking!’ Hannah smiled because she knew she didn’t mean a word of it. ‘Can I pop along?’
‘Yes,