Hannah. Betty Neels
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His niece murmured and Hannah, judging it to be a good moment in which to enter, had her hand stretched towards the door handle. She dropped it to her side at the visitor’s next words, though.
‘Don’t thank me, liefje, I must admit that I have spent more amusing evenings, and don’t for God’s sake let her loose on the claret; my head aches with her chatter!’
Hannah felt her face glow. She whisked round and went soundlessly back the way she had come, her face very white now. She was in the milk kitchen with her back to the door when she heard the doctor’s leisurely stride pass.
‘Beast!’ said Hannah with feeling. ‘Horrible man! I hope I never see him again, and when I do I’ll cut him dead!’
She marched back again with her tray, her nice eyes flashing with temper, her face still very flushed, so that Mevrouw van Eysink exclaimed: ‘Hannah, you look as though you have been fighting a battle! Your face is most red and animated.’
Hannah allowed her calm professional mask to slide over her outraged feelings. She said cheerfully: ‘The milk kitchen’s like a furnace, it must be the hottest day we’ve had this summer.’
Mevrouw van Eysink watched her while her very small son was changed, soothed and offered his feed. ‘There is much to talk about,’ she observed happily. ‘You wish to wear uniform, Hannah?’
‘Oh, I think so, if you don’t mind—Paul sicks up quite a bit, you know, and besides, it’s most important that he doesn’t pick up small infections. If I wore a dress and got it grubby or something on it, there’s always the chance that it might upset him.’
‘I have seen you only once—last night, in your clothes. It was pretty, the pink dress you were wearing.’
‘Marks and Spencer’s with an expensive belt someone gave me for Christmas.’
‘Uncle Valentijn has been here to say goodbye; he was sorry to have missed you and wished me to express the hope that he will see you again in Holland.’
And very nicely put, thought Hannah, considering it was a fib. She murmured: ‘How kind. Your uncle was so good as to give me dinner yesterday,’ and waited for the next fib.
Sure enough it came: ‘Yes, he told me how much he enjoyed it.’ Mevrouw van Eysink heaved a thankful sigh at having got that over and done with and rattled on: ‘He is anxious to get home. He is engaged just within the last week or so to a girl I do not like very much. Her name is Nerissa and I find that silly, and she is tall and slim and always very beautifully dressed; she does not like babies or animals and I cannot think why Uncle Valentijn wants to marry her, for she will not allow him to keep his dogs, I am sure, and never, never will she have a baby…’
‘Perhaps the doctor doesn’t mind?’
‘Not mind?’ Mevrouw van Eysink’s voice rose several octaves. ‘He is a baby doctor, I told you, Hannah—he loves the little babies, and the children too, even when they are tiresome.’
She eyed her son, leaning over Hannah’s shoulder and bringing up his wind just as he ought. ‘Will little Paul be the right size by the time I have another baby?’ she asked.
‘Oh, lord, yes—he ought to catch up within the next six months. Are you ready to give him a cuddle?’
They made a pretty picture, Hannah thought; baby Paul still looked rather like a doll and his mother, in her silk lace trimmed nightie, was quite one of the prettiest creatures she had ever met. ‘How long am I to come for?’ she asked.
Mevrouw van Eysink touched the baby’s bald head with a loving finger. ‘A month. That’s not too long, Hannah? You will not mind living with us? There will be a lot for you to do, but we will promise that you will have time to yourself. We live near Hilversum, in the country, and if you wish, you can ride in the woods there, and there are shops to visit and it is easy to go to Amsterdam or Utrecht. There is a car you can borrow, and also bicycles.’
‘It sounds lovely,’ observed Hannah. ‘I love the country and I can ride—and you don’t have to worry about me being bored or anything like that, because I never am. Anyway, I’m going to look after Paul.’
‘And I’m so relieved about that, I have wondered so much what I would do if you refused to come. You will live with us, of course, and you will meet some nice people I hope, when they come to dinner with us. We have many friends.’
A new dress, thought Hannah, something for the evening, I wonder if they dress up or should I just take a short dress—two. A long one as well. She decided there and then to get one of each; it would mean spending most of the money she had in the bank, for really there hadn’t been much over each month by the time she had contributed to the household and bought dull things like tights, toothpaste and shampoos.
‘Do you have lots of parties?’ she asked.
Mevrouw van Eysink’s eyes shone. ‘Indeed, yes— I will tell you…’
‘I’d love to hear. I’ll pop Paul back into his cot and it’s time for your exercises; you can tell me while you’re doing them.’
The unexciting tenor of Hannah’s life changed during the next ten days or so. There was a passport to get, an interview with the paediatrician and a number of instructions to make quite sure about, the best of her uniform to sort out and pack, and by no means least, some clothes to buy. Her wardrobe was small but adequate and she augmented it now with a cotton skirt, a pair of slacks and a couple of cotton tops which would go with either; these were quickly enough chosen from the multiple stores. She took longer over the choice of an evening dress. It had to be something she could wear for several years; plain, yet elegant enough to hold its own among high fashion. She found what she wanted in a small shop tucked away in an unfashionable side street; a silk jersey in a pinky mushroom shade, with a wide neck, swathed belt, and a flowing skirt which was full without being bunchy. It didn’t cost as much as she had reckoned on, which left her free to choose between a pastel voile dress and a leaf green cotton, each so entirely suitable that she bought them both.
She spent as much of her off duty as possible with her mother, and was surprised at that lady’s cheerful acceptance of her absence for a month. True, the companion Doctor van Bertes had undertaken to find was everything which could be wished for, and if their cosy chat was anything to go by when she arrived for an interview, Mrs Lang would have nothing to regret. There had been a bad moment though when she had let slip that Mrs Slocombe’s fees were being paid by the van Eysinks. Hannah had protested at that. ‘They’re paying the hospital for me, and I’m getting my usual salary, Mother, we simply can’t expect them to pay for anything else. We can quite well afford it for a few weeks.’
Mrs Lang had dissolved into tears. ‘You know I rely on your money to pay the bills, Hannah.’ She had darted an angry look at her. ‘And I need every farthing of my pension this month, I simply must have some new clothes. I haven’t had a rag to wear for months…’
Hannah forbore from reminding her that only the previous month she had gone to Harrods of all places, and bought two dresses both expensive enough to swallow up all her pension, and it was as well that she didn’t, because her mother went on: ‘I can’t understand you being so selfish, Hannah—you’ve bought clothes for yourself.’
Unanswerable, even though, if she discounted toothpaste and shampoos and such like necessities, she had had nothing new since Christmas. Hannah had given in without another word. Somehow she would save the money and send it to Mevrouw van Eysink after she returned to England. Meanwhile there had been no point in worrying about it. Baby Paul was still the most important person to consider; he was gaining a little each day now, turning the scales at five pounds; weighing him had become a major highlight of the day.
But it wasn’t only Paul Hannah had to attend, his mother, faced at last with the removal of her hip spica, became a bundle of nerves and it needed all Hannah’s patience and resources to get her through the tiresome but painless undertaking. It was a tremendous relief when everything was finished, to find that