Hannah. Бетти Нилс
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word you would prefer to use, but baby Paul must be our first concern. I hope that your mother is content with the arrangements which I suggested.’
‘Oh, very—and the sherry.’
His mouth twitched. ‘I’m glad, and I know that Corinna, once she has finished weeping, will tell you that she is quite content with matters as they stand.’
His niece blew her delicate nose and smiled mistily. ‘Dear Uncle Valentijn, what would we do without you? Paul will be so pleased that everything is settled, and so easily too.’
Hannah caught the doctor’s eye and said quickly, ‘Well, I’ll say goodnight. It’s time you were asleep, and I’m not really supposed to be here.’
‘Nor am I.’ He bent to kiss his niece, looked briefly at the sleeping Paul and went to the door where Hannah was still standing. She hadn’t expected him to come with her and she stood awkwardly before muttering again: ‘Well, I’ll be off—see you in the morning, Mevrouw van Eysink.’ She added very quickly, ‘Goodnight, Doctor van Bertes.’
He didn’t answer for the simple reason that he went with her, striding down the corridor while she fumed, wondering how she could slip away into the kitchen and see if there was a slice of bread and butter to be had. She was still mulling over one or two quite unsuitable plans when he came to a halt outside Sister’s office. ‘Have you had supper?’ he asked.
‘Supper? Why, no, but—but I’m going to have it now.’
‘Good, I’ll join you—I’m famished.’
How to tell him that he would be expected to creep into the kitchen and hack a chunk off the loaf and if Night Sister had done her rounds, make tea?
‘Well—’ she began.
‘What I should have said,’ observed her companion smoothly, ‘was will you join me?’ And at her obvious hesitation, even more smoothly: ‘I can perhaps give you some idea of what will be expected of you when you accompany my niece.’
Hannah was too surprised to speak for a moment, but hunger got the better of all her other feelings. ‘That would be nice,’ she said sedately.
‘Good. We’re not too far from the Baron of Beef. I take it that you may stay out until a reasonable hour?’
‘Midnight, but I wouldn’t want to be out as late as that.’
The blue eyes gleamed, but all he said was: ‘Naturally not—you’re on duty in the morning, I presume.’
He swept her through the hospital and out into the street and into a taxi, where she sat very upright in the corner, unaware that in the dark he was grinning with amusement, but once in the restaurant, among the lights and crowded tables, she relaxed a little.
‘I hope you are hungry,’ remarked her host. ‘I am.’
‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I am.’ Hannah essayed a small smile, wishing that he wouldn’t look at her with a faint mockery which made her uncomfortable. And as though he read her thoughts the mockery wasn’t there any more, only a kind smile. ‘Good. Would you like a drink while we decide?’
She accepted a sherry because she wasn’t sure what else to ask for and bent to the enjoyable task of choosing her supper. She had dined out so seldom that she found this difficult, and when her companion suggested artichoke hearts with vinaigrette dressing for a start, followed by tournedos Rossini with new peas and new potatoes, she agreed happily and with relief. He didn’t consult her about the wine, though; she drank what was poured into her glass and enjoyed it, only asking after the first sip, what it was.
‘A claret,’ she was told, ‘quite harmless and most suitable to drink with a steak.’ He glanced at her. ‘I don’t suppose you have much opportunity to go out, Hannah.’
The sherry had put a different complexion on things, and the claret was improving it with every minute. ‘No, hardly ever. When my father was alive we had people to dinner and we went out to other people’s houses, but not to restaurants.’
‘Ah, yes, your father was a rural dean, your mother was telling me; you must have had a pleasant life.’
‘Oh, yes!’ Hannah just stopped herself in time from pouring out her pleasant memories to him and went red at the thought. The Doctor eyed her over his glass and wondered what he had said to make her face flame. He hadn’t met anyone quite so shy and stiff for years; certainly he hadn’t been in his right mind when he had asked her to join him for supper. Now if it had been Nerissa, with her gaiety and clever talk— He frowned down at his plate and Hannah, seeing it and the faint boredom on his face, launched into what she hoped was interesting chatter. He listened courteously, answering her when it was required of him, and uneasily aware that she wasn’t used to drinking half a bottle of claret and it had loosened her tongue past repair.
Hannah, happily unaware of her companion’s thoughts, chatted brightly over her trifle, having a little difficulty with words now and then. It wasn’t until she had had two cups of black coffee and they were in the taxi going back to the hospital that her usual good sense took over again.
She checked the flow of talk with such suddenness that Uncle Valentijn turned to look at her, but whatever he intended saying didn’t get said, for they were back at the hospital and she was already opening the door. He leaned across her. ‘No,’ he said quietly, and got out and went round and helped her out. He told the driver to wait and walked with her to the doors.
‘Thank you for my supper,’ said Hannah, and swallowed. ‘I’m sorry I talked so much—it must have been frightfully boring for you. I had a glass of sherry with Mother and then another one with you and all that wine, and I’m not awfully used to it.’ She added, to convince him, ‘I’m a very sober kind of person, really. I—I hope you won’t think I’m not—not careful enough to look after baby Paul.’
He took her hand in his. ‘Hannah, I think you are a most fitting person to look after my godson. I would trust him with you absolutely.’
She drew a deep breath. ‘Oh, that’s all right, then. I wouldn’t like you to think I’m not to be trusted.’
‘My dear girl, Corinna trusts you, doesn’t she, and likes you? I am very fond of her and of her husband and I would go to any lengths to make them happy; their opinion of you is much more important than mine.’
A remark Hannah didn’t much care for, although she wasn’t sure why, only that it hinted vaguely that he didn’t like her, or at least, didn’t think her worth an opinion. She wished him a sober goodnight and went through the swing doors, her pleasure in the evening quite spoiled.
But a sound night’s sleep dispelled her doubts and she went on duty with a light heart. It remained light until almost noon, when Uncle Valentijn paid a lightning visit to his niece in order to wish her goodbye, and Hannah, unaware of this and walking down the corridor with Paul’s feed from the milk kitchen, was brought up short outside Mevrouw van Eysink’s partly open door. For once her patient and visitor were speaking English and Uncle Valentijn’s voice, while not loud, was very clear.
‘Of course I have to go, my dear—you seem to forget that I have my work like any other man. I’ll see Paul tonight and he’ll make all the necessary arrangements, so you need have no worries on that score.’
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