Hannah

by Betty Neels

  She looked up as Hannah went in and gave a delighted shriek. ‘Hannah! I told Uncle Valentijn I wanted to see you, but I never thought you could be spared. Oh, this is splendid—we’ll have tea and you can tell me all about little Paul.’ Her lip trembled and a tear trickled down her cheek. ‘Oh, Hannah, is he going to be all right? You can’t imagine how awful he looked, and we had no idea what to do, and poor Henrika and I, we felt ill too.’

  Hannah sat down. ‘Little Paul’s getting better,’ she said positively. ‘Uncle Valentijn said so, didn’t he, and he wouldn’t tell lies about that. Paul’s beginning to take his feeds again and he gained just a very little today. Mevrouw van Eysink, you have to get quite well and strong so that you can help Henrika look after him. He’s growing all the time, you know, and soon he’ll be noticing things and sitting up and playing with his toys—you’ll have your hands full. And you? Are you feeling almost well again?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I am, especially now I know that little Paul is getting better. And Henrika telephoned this morning to say that the doctor says she may come back in a week. Will little Paul be better then, do you think?’

  ‘You’d better ask Uncle Valentijn and see what he says.’

  ‘Uncle Valentijn says in all probability he will be.’

  Hannah wondered how long he had been standing listening to them as she watched him saunter across the room and bend to kiss his niece. She was rendered speechless when he strolled across to her too and kissed her as well.

  ‘You look very nice, the pair of you, sitting there,’ he observed, apparently by way of explanation.

  Hannah had gone very red, but she kept her cool with something of an effort. ‘I’m glad to see Mevrouw van Eysink looking better than I expected,’ she remarked in a no-nonsense voice. “Flu makes you feel rotten.’

  ‘Indeed it does.’ He spoke gravely, but she knew he was laughing at her. ‘Corinna, I promised Hannah a walk, shall we have tea first or afterwards?’

  ‘Now,’ said his niece promptly, ‘and may I come too?’

  Hannah’s, ‘Oh, please do,’ was so prompt that Valentijn laughed out loud.

  They strolled round the gardens, with Corinna well wrapped up because the late afternoons were beginning to get a little chilly. She walked between them, chattering away quite happily, making plans for little Paul’s return and declaring that she felt almost well again and when could she see him.

  ‘Oh, a few days yet,’ declared Valentijn easily. ‘He’s on the mend, but Hannah will have to put in quite a lot of work on him—let’s say in four days’ time—and don’t expect a bouncing baby, liefje.’

  ‘Oh, any kind of baby,’ cried Corinna.

  They didn’t talk much as they drove back to the hospital. When they were almost there, Hannah thanked her companion in her gentle voice and nipped smartly away. Back on duty again it seemed to her that the pleasant little interlude had never been, although there were memories to prove that it had—Valentijn’s kiss, for example. Perhaps, she allowed herself to hope, he would take her out the next day as well.

  But although he came three times, he was nothing if not impersonal in his manner. Only as he was leaving he interrupted a conversation with Sister to switch to English and address Hannah.

  ‘You will take two hours off between six o’clock and eight o’clock, will you? Zuster can’t get a nurse to relieve you before then.’ He added formally: ‘I’m sorry.’

  When Zuster Witteveen arrived, Hannah changed quickly and went down to the entrance. There was no one there waiting for her, and she hadn’t really expected it. She had had two lovely outings with Valentijn and really there had been no need for him to bother with her. She walked briskly through the park and out of its further gate, had coffee and a sandwich at a little snack bar and started back through the streets. She was waiting at a crossing when she saw the Bristol with Valentijn at the wheel and Nerissa beside him. She was talking animatedly, but he was looking straight ahead, but with all that traffic around he had no choice. Hannah stared after him for as long as the car remained in sight, then nipped across at the tail end of the crossing and earned a frown from a passing policeman.

  She hurried back, trying not to think of the two people in the car. They would be on their way to dine and dance, she supposed; Nerissa would be a delightful companion for an evening out; beautiful to look at and entertaining too. Hannah ground her small white teeth, hating her. It was somehow comforting to get back to the haven of the hospital room and sit with little Paul on her knee, watching his valiant efforts to finish his minute feed.

  She saw Valentijn the following morning, and when Sister said that she could be relieved for three hours that afternoon she resolved to refuse any offer he might make to take her out, but he made none, so she went shopping, buying dull things like soap and tissues and choosing a present for her mother. And in the evening, when she was back on duty, Valentijn had nothing to say other than instructions about little Paul.

  She was told quite early in the morning that she could have the same off-duty. The infant was making headway now, and she thought privately that it wouldn’t be long before her services would no longer be needed. In another few days Henrika would be back and presumably the baby would go home then. She would visit a museum or two; there would be time enough, and she had enough money to have a cup of tea or coffee somewhere. The weather was overcast and she was thankful that she had packed a raincoat. Dressed in blouse and skirt and heartily sick of both, she put on the raincoat and went down to the entrance. She was going through the door when the porter hailed her and handed her a note. Valentijn’s unintelligible scrawl invited her to wait where she was until he came and he was hers, V. v. Bertes. She could of course ignore it, although she didn’t want to, or leave a message with the porter. It would have to be a written one, though, and since she had made up her mind not to go out with him again, she went back to the porter’s lodge, rummaged round in her bag for paper and pen, and started to write. Half way through her carefully worded refusal she was aware that Valentijn was bending down and reading it over her shoulder.

  ‘You went shopping yesterday,’ he said mildly, ‘you couldn’t possibly want to do so again today.’ He straightened up. ‘Besides, Aunt would like you to have tea with her. She likes you.’ He added in a wheedling fashion: ‘She’s very old.’

  ‘Well, I—I need the exercise. Perhaps I could walk there and just stay a little while with her. I like walking.’

  ‘Now that’s funny—so do I. There’s a pleasant stroll through the park missing most of the traffic. We’ll go that way.’

  ‘There’s no need…’ began Hannah, and glanced fleetingly at his face, to find him smiling in a particularly disarming fashion, so she looked away again.

  ‘None at all,’ he agreed airily, ‘but it would be an opportunity to discuss Paul, and then there’s the question of getting him home again, and I daresay you will want to leave then.’

  Hannah’s heart sank at the very thought, but she said in a matter-of-fact voice: ‘Well, yes, I should be glad to know what you’ve decided.’

  They went out into the dull afternoon together and she wished she had something else to wear other than the elderly raincoat, especially as her companion had a gaberdine car coat which, even when donned with a complete disregard for his appearance, managed to look what it was, a very expensive garment which fitted perfectly.

  The park was nice, bright with dahlias and early chrysanthemums and ornamental trees and shrubs; the grass was smooth and green and in one corner there were children on a line of swings. There were dogs too and Hannah, for something to say, asked: ‘Have you a dog?’

  ‘Yes—a bull mastiff—Nipper. We take each other for a walk every morning before work and again in the evening, the rest of the day he spends in the garden or with Wilrik, unless I’m home, of course.’

  ‘I like dogs,’ said Hannah. ‘Father had a retriever, but when he died and we moved to London we gave him to friends. I—I missed him.’r />
  ‘They’re good company. Paul and Corinna are going to get a puppy to grow up with little Paul.’

  ‘He’ll do now, won’t he?’ Hannah had forgotten that she hadn’t meant to see any more of Valentijn; he was splendid company and she felt quite at ease with him; she had even forgotten Nerissa.

  ‘I think and hope so. He’s taken an awful beating, poor little chap, but he’s tough. He’s gained again too. I think we might let him go home in another three days. Henrika can settle in a day before that, and if you would stay for a couple of days just to see that everything is running smoothly, and I know Corinna wants you to have at least one day as their guest before you go. Don’t worry about your flight; I’ll see to it when we know exactly when you’re going. Are you all right for money?’

  Hannah had almost nothing in her purse, but she wasn’t going to say so. She told him that yes, she had enough to tide her over until she returned home. She had spent very little and there was the cheering prospect of her salary waiting for her at the agency when she got back. She would have to get another case at once, though.

  As though he read her thoughts, Valentijn asked: ‘Have you a case to go to?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Hannah, and thought what a silly reply that was.

  But he didn’t pursue the subject, talking about this and that; and never saying a word about Nerissa.

  Arrived at his front door, Wilrik, who must have been lying in wait, opened it with a flourish, bestowed a benevolent smile upon Hannah, and took their coats before preceding them across the hall to open the drawing room doors. He bent a dignified ear to what Valentijn had to say to him and melted away to the kitchen quarters.

  There he sat himself down in the armchair, reserved solely for his own use, removed a newspaper from his inside coat pocket and spread it out, but before reading it he observed to his wife, busy with the tea tray: ‘She’s here again, and as nice a young lady as I ever did see. Very deftig she is too, just right for the master. That other one’s no good for him.’

  ‘You’re right there,’ observed his wife. ‘But don’t count your chickens, Wilrik. Do they speak English together?’

  ‘Always. She doesn’t speak our language, not yet, but she’ll learn quick enough—such a nice young lady.’ Wilrik sighed and picked up his paper.

  ‘She’ll not have much chance against the other one…’

  ‘Her eyes are grey. Very soft and gentle they are too.’

  Hannah, happily unaware of this conversation, greeted Valentijn’s aunt, took the chair indicated to her and listened happily enough to the old lady’s flow of talk. She rambled a little from time to time and once or twice nodded off into a light doze, to awake refreshed after a few minutes and go on again, describing various members of the family, the houses they lived in and their various children, ‘And it’s about time you started a family, Valentijn,’ she remarked suddenly. ‘This great house—and you rattling round it like a pea in a pod.’

  Her nephew stretched out in a great armchair close to her, grinned and said meekly that he’d think about it, and would she like her tea?

  It was served by Wilrik, looking more dignified than ever, and presently when they went to the french windows in order to walk in the garden, he was there again to open them, smiling in a fatherly fashion at Hannah.

  The garden was lovely, much bigger than Hannah had expected. She admired the flowers and the shrubs at some length and then asked: ‘Do tell me, does Wilrik always open all the doors for you? I mean, he seems to pop up…’

  Valentijn laughed. ‘I suspect he is interested in you. Usually I am permitted to open doors for myself. We are good friends, he and I; he has been with the family for almost all his life. It has been suggested that he should retire, but I will not hear of it; he stays until he wants to go, and I think that will be never.’

  ‘He’s nice,’ said Hannah. The suggestion would have come from Nerissa, of course. She would want someone young and smart in a striped waistcoat to answer her door. Her door—it didn’t bear thinking about.

  They went back inside presently and bade the old lady goodbye, then were ushered into the street once more, and this time Hannah smiled warmly at Wilrik. He was part of the house, and that was part of Valentijn and therefore to be loved.

  Little Paul was making rapid progress at last and he was to go home in two days’ time. Valentijn had said so when he came the next morning. ‘Henrika will go to the villa tomorrow,’ he told Hannah in a pleasantly impersonal voice, ‘and have everything ready for you both, and if you would like to arrange to leave two days from then,’ just for a moment his voice wasn’t impersonal at all, ‘Corinna wished me to tell you that they would like you to stay for longer than that if you could do so—a week, perhaps.’

  If she was never going to see him again, she might as well get it over with. ‘I have to go back,’ she said steadily. ‘It’s very kind of the van Eysinks to invite me, but I—there’s sure to be a case waiting,’ she finished rather lamely.

  She spent her free time alone that day, and the day following too, and when Valentijn came to the ward, he was coolly friendly and didn’t even ask her what she had done with her off duty, or indeed, if she had had any!

  On her last day she was free after her dinner. She packed her few things ready for an early start in the morning, and decided to go for a walk. There was still plenty of time for her to see…

  She was on her way through the hospital when she met Valentijn, coming up the stairs two at a time. ‘Ah, there you are,’ he exclaimed genially. ‘I got held up. Aunt is expecting you.’

  Hannah stood poised, giving, she hoped, the impression that she was on her way to somewhere important and immediate. ‘Oh, I didn’t know—I’m just on my way to—to the shops, something I forgot, and I’m on duty again in an hour, just over an hour.’

  ‘One hour and twenty minutes, to be exact. We can stop at whichever shop you want on the way.’ He smiled at her, his eyes half shut. ‘Besides, I want to talk to you—your ticket home and one thing and another— I told Corinna I’d see to it. Paul’s away for a couple of days on business.’

  Hannah started to walk down the steps behind him. She had done her best; and her heart, delighted at the prospect of a short time in his company, had completely overruled her head.

  The Bristol was outside, but before Valentijn opened the door he asked: ‘Would you rather walk, Hannah?’

  Walking would do her more good, but on the other hand she might never get the chance to ride in a Bristol motor car again. She told him so and although he only smiled and held the door open, she missed the sudden gleam in his eyes. Half way to the house she reminded him: ‘You wanted to tell me something about my ticket.’

  ‘Ah, yes, there’s nothing available until Friday, I’m afraid—that’s a day later than you wanted, isn’t it? Let me see, it’s Monday today, you both go to the villa tomorrow, that leaves you Wednesday to settle in with Henrika and a day over—Corinna will be delighted. She feels bad about your lack of free time since you’ve been over here. It’s a morning flight, by the way.’ He glanced at her sideways. ‘I’m going to Brussels for a couple of days.’

  Hannah forgot about her own plans and fastened on the only thing that mattered. ‘Oh, are you? When?’

  ‘Late tomorrow night—I’ll drive down.’

  ‘You won’t be back before I leave,’ and when he didn’t answer she plunged into a string of banal remarks about little Paul, none of which merited a reply, until they reached his house.

  Wilrik forgot his dignity entirely and beamed at her, hurrying to open the doors and murmur to Valentijn. ‘Tea,’ Valentijn told her. ‘Wilrik says there’s English cake for tea in your honour.’

  ‘How very kind—what a dear he is!’ Hannah frowned, standing in front of the half open drawing room door. ‘Now, if only I could speak Dutch—but I only know a dozen words, just enough to get me through the day at the hospital. None of them seem right for thanking someone for cake for tea.’<
br />
  Valentijn gave a crack of laughter. ‘Never mind, I’m going to tell Wilrik what you say: he’ll love it.’

  Wilrik did. His severe features broke into a smile and he bowed his head and then said something to Valentijn very softly. Valentijn’s features all at once assumed their bland expression and Hannah, knowing every line and wrinkle of his face by now, guessed he was angry about something.

  ‘Did I say something?’ she asked. ‘Have I annoyed you—both of you, perhaps?’

  The bland look melted. ‘Certainly not—Wilrik is very pleased.’ He spoke to the elderly man then and gave Hannah a gentle prod. ‘Aunt is waiting, there’ll be tea and that cake in a moment.’

  They stayed with the old lady for half an hour and with Nipper’s enthusiastic co-operation, disposed of the cake, and when Hannah bade the old lady goodbye, she was invited to kiss the delicately tinted cheek. ‘No need to say goodbye,’ said Valentijn’s aunt, a remark Hannah put down to her being so elderly that she tended to forget things.

  At the hospital she wished Valentijn goodbye as well, ‘Because I don’t suppose I’ll see you before we go,’ she pointed out a little too brightly.

  ‘Probably not, but I may come out to the villa during the day just to look little Paul over.’ He smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling. ‘How proper of you, Hannah, to choose somewhere to say goodbye where I can’t do more than shake your hand. I’ll have to make sure of that visit tomorrow, won’t I?’

  There was nothing more to say to that. Hannah muttered something silly about being late and rushed inside. It would be wonderful to see him again, but would she be able to bear it, she wondered, it would only prolong the agony?

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE RETURN to the villa was made soon after nine o’clock in the morning with baby Paul, fast asleep after his feed, on Hannah’s lap on the back seat while Mijnheer van Eysink drove the Mercedes.