THE INFANT PAUL made heavy weather of it. Hannah, during the first twenty-four hours, almost lost hope, but then she battled on again, spurred on by the round sunken blue eyes which peeped up at her so listlessly. When Valentijn came for the third or fourth time that day, she had Paul in her arms, drip and all. ‘He’s fighting very hard,’ she told him. ‘Do tell Mevrouw van Eysink that, won’t you?’
‘Of course. Hannah, have you had a meal?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ She’d had sandwiches in her room because she wasn’t going to leave little Paul just yet. ‘Did you?’
He smiled behind his mask and she saw his eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘Yes, I did as you ordered me to, and had a nap.’ He bent over the infant. ‘What do you think, Hannah?’
‘He’s going to get better.’
‘Bless you, Hannah!’ He had gone again.
She had made her own arrangements with Sister and not told Valentijn. She stayed with Paul until almost midnight, when she was relieved. She ate hastily, had a shower and undressed, then went to bed and slept at once until she was roused as she had requested, at four o’clock. When Valentijn appeared in old slacks and a sweater at six o’clock she was sitting, as neat as a new pin, with Paul on her lap.
‘He’s better, I think,’ she told him. ‘He’s kept down ten c.c.s of boiled water for more than half an hour.’
He bent over the baby, listening to the tiny chest and then checking the charts. ‘His chest’s no worse. Go on with the ten c.c.s for the next two hours—I’ll be back then and if all’s well, we’ll increase it.’ He took off his gown again. ‘You were relieved, Hannah?’
‘Yes, thank you—I slept marvellously and they brought me some coffee. Everyone’s being super. How are Mevrouw van Eysink and Henrika?’
‘Henrika’s through the worst, I think, but Corinna isn’t trying at the moment.’
‘Oh, the poor thing—you will tell her that Paul’s kept something down, won’t you?’
‘Yes. His father’s coming in this morning. I must go, I’ve a clinic at eight o’clock and I must change. I’ll be in later, if there’s anything urgent Sister knows where to get me—and don’t hesitate to send for me.’
The day wore on and Valentijn came and went and found Hannah waiting for him each time, still as neat as a new pin, although there were dark circles under her eyes now. But little Paul had kept down all the tiny amounts of boiled water she had given him and although he didn’t look much better, he didn’t look any worse and she was sure that his chest was clearer, something confirmed during Valentijn’s early evening visit.
Paul van Eysink had been too, in the morning and again that afternoon, his nice face as white as his little son’s, pathetically eager to hear any scrap of good news that there might be. ‘Corinna’s feeling better,’ he told Hannah. ‘She’s so relieved that you’re here, Hannah—she wants to see him, but of course, she’s not well enough yet.’
‘No,’ said Hannah gently, ‘and by the time she is, we’ll have little Paul looking quite his old self again.’
‘That’s what Valentijn said.’ And Paul had gone away full of hope.
It was a little after six o’clock and Hannah had just given the baby his allotted drops of water when Valentijn came in. There was a nurse with him, gowned and masked, as well as Sister. He took Hannah’s report, examined the infant closely and said something to the Sister, before turning to Hannah.
‘He’s holding his own nicely. You’re going off duty for an hour—and don’t argue, Hannah, we want you fighting fit, and you need a change, however brief.’ He pulled down his mask and smiled at her. ‘Go and change and be at the entrance in fifteen minutes. I’ll tell Zuster de Witteveen exactly what she has to do.’
Hannah went reluctantly, for she didn’t care to argue when Valentijn used that tone of voice. And why the front entrance in fifteen minutes, and what was she supposed to do when she got there? An hour, he had said; there was a small park quite close by and there was bound to be a snack bar. She could have a brisk walk and then eat something and be back on duty until the night nurse came to relieve her at ten o’clock. Tonight little Paul was better, she would be able to sleep for a few hours, safe in the knowledge that if anything went wrong she could be at the cotside in seconds.
She showered, changed and was down at the entrance in just over ten minutes to find Valentijn lounging at the top of the steps, talking to two housemen. He put out a casual hand as she went past and brought her to a gentle halt. ‘Hullo, you’ve been quick. Meet two of my housemen—Dirk Wouters and Karel Wintermann.’
He barely gave her time to shake hands before walking her down the steps and into the Bristol.
‘Look,’ said Hannah, so happy she could have burst but determined to be sensible about it, ‘I’m going for a walk in the park and then eat…’
‘Oh, dear—did I forget to tell you? You’re coming home with me. My housekeeper has a meal waiting and she’ll be very hurt if we don’t turn up—besides, there’s someone I want you to meet.’
‘Who?’
‘Wait and see.’ He was weaving the car in and out of the traffic and then left the busy streets behind to turn into the narrow streets Hannah remembered from the last time, and finally drew up before his home.
As they entered Wilrik came to meet them, according his master a slight bowing of the head and a welcoming smile for Hannah, before opening the double doors of the drawing room for them. Valentijn said something to him as they passed him and then propelled Hannah gently before him into the room. There was someone there, sitting in a chair with a padded back, a small old lady with white hair beautifully dressed and a pair of startlingly blue eyes. She was wearing a black crêpe dress with an old-fashioned high collar and her still beautiful hands were loaded with rings.
‘My aunt,’ said Valentijn. ‘She wanted to meet you.’
Hannah advanced to the chair and offered a hand. The old lady, despite her smallness, looked someone to be reckoned with and Hannah’s smile was a little uncertain.
‘How d’you do?’ observed the old lady. ‘So you’re Hannah. I’ve heard about you, of course—you aren’t a beauty, but that’s not important. Nice figure—nice eyes. I don’t hold with these flat women and I’ve told Valentijn so. I understand you’ve not much time. Pity, but we’ll make the most of what time there is.’ She looked across at her nephew, who was standing before the great fireplace, smiling faintly. ‘I’ll have a glass of sherry and so will Hannah.’ She added: ‘You’ve not said a word.’
‘Dear Aunt, I lacked the opportunity.’ He grinned at her. ‘Hannah, sit down and stop looking at the clock, I promise you I’ll have you back at the hour.’ He got their drinks and came and sat down too, his own drink in his hand, and still with a look of amusement, listened while the old lady questioned Hannah briskly. It was amazing the number of questions which she managed to ask within the next minute or two. Hannah answered them all readily but briefly. Old ladies were notoriously curious about other people, and she rather liked this one. She supplied her age, gave details of her home and childhood, skated delicately over her mother’s idle way of living since her father’s death, pronounced herself quite satisfied with her work and agreed that the van Eysinks were a delightful couple and little Paul a remarkable infant. When the old lady snapped: ‘And Valentijn what do you think of him?’ Hannah refused to be hustled into the wrong answer. She said composedly: ‘If anyone can get little Paul better, it will be his godfather.’
She heard Valentijn make a sound which could have been a chuckle, but she didn’t look to see. It was her interrogator who observed: ‘Discreet, as well.’
She nodded her elderly head and handed Valentijn her glass. ‘Well, I’m ready when you are, my dears.’
They dined in a small room Hannah hadn’t seen before, at a round table beautifully set with silver and crystal, and the delicious food was served with no delay at all, so that there was still ten minutes left by the time coffee was brought in.
Valentijn saw Hannah’s eyes stray to the grandfather clock against one panelled wall and said soothingly: ‘Don’t get worked up, Hannah—three minutes to drink your coffee, five minutes to get you back, and two minutes to get to the unit from the car.’
And he was right; there were exactly two minutes left as she got out of the Bristol and when she began a rather hurried thank-you speech, he stopped her. ‘I’m coming too,’ he remarked, and whisked her into a lift without another word.
The unit was all quietness, broken only by the twitterings and little cries of very small babies. The door at the end of the corridor was shut. Before Valentijn opened it, he bent swiftly and kissed Hannah hard.
She changed in a dream, put on her gown and mask and joined the others by the cot. The nurse nodded at her and Valentijn, gowned and masked now, glanced at her briefly, nothing in his calm impersonal manner betraying the fact that he had been kissing her only minutes earlier.
‘We will keep the drip up for another twenty-four hours,’ he told her, ‘and increase the fluids, starting with the next feed. I’ll be in early tomorrow morning, if he’s tolerating that we’ll get him started on diluted milk.’
His look was as impersonal as his voice, so was his careless nod as he went.
Hannah was too occupied with the infant’s needs to have time to indulge her thoughts, but she promised herself that she would get them sorted out in the peace and quiet of her room, once she had been relieved by the night nurse and was in bed.
A sensible resolution which stood no chance against her need for sleep. She was out like a light the moment her head touched the pillow.
She was there, gowned and masked, when Valentijn came early in the morning. The night nurse had gone and little Paul, looking decidedly the worse for wear but much more alive, was awake.
‘He’s better,’ pronounced Valentijn. ‘We just have to hang on to him for another forty-eight hours… Let’s try him with the diluted milk.’ He wrote on the chart and laid it on the desk.
‘When are you free today, Hannah?’
‘I don’t know, but I’m perfectly all right as I am, I can make up for it when he’s better.’
‘You will be able to get away for a couple of hours this afternoon, I should think—I’ll see Sister.’
‘Thank you, but if he sicks up after the milk mixture I won’t go.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’ll do as I ask, Hannah, but I don’t think he will. I think he’s turned the corner.’ He added cautiously: ‘I’m not committing myself, mind.’
‘Why are doctors so—so careful?’ she flung at him crossly. ‘Of course he’s going to get better!’
‘Probably because we haven’t got your faith.’
Hannah muttered ‘Oh, pooh!’ as he went out of the door.
He came back again during the morning and when mid-afternoon he came again, he brought the same nurse who had relieved her before. He said with a placid authority she couldn’t ignore: ‘Go off duty now, please, Hannah, and be back in two hours’ time.’
She decided what to do as she changed. The park first because she longed for exercise and fresh air and as far as she could tell from looking out of the window, it was a lovely day; summer was coming to an end, but in the nicest possible way. She got into a pleated skirt and blouse and picked up her blazer. She should have brought more clothes with her, but she hadn’t been given much time to pack, had she? She did her hair and face in a rather perfunctory fashion and made her way to the entrance. She was crossing the narrow forecourt when the Bristol purred to a halt beside her.
‘Jump in,’ said Valentijn in his most avuncular voice.
‘I’m going for a walk in the park.’
‘Another day. Corinna wants to see you and I think it would do her a great deal of good if you were to tell her personally that little Paul is muddling through. There’ll be time for a walk, too.’
He smiled at her with such charm that her heart stopped and then hurried its beat so that she had to swallow it back to its place. ‘Very well,’ she said, and added idiotically: ‘Are you free too?’
He leaned over and opened the door wider and when she had settled herself closed it before driving on. ‘I had a teaching round this morning and a small clinic. I see my private patients this evening.’
‘Babies—private patients?’ asked Hannah in a surprised voice.
‘Quite a few—in their own homes, of course. Feeding problems and small malformities which I can correct without having to take them into hospital. Have you heard from your mother, Hannah?’
‘Yes, she’s fine, Mrs Slocombe goes each day.’
‘You will return to your private nursing?’ He asked the question idly.
‘Well, yes—I’ll have to…’ She stopped, angry that her tongue had run away with her.
‘To pay for Mrs Slocombe?’ Valentijn made the suggestion so quietly that she went on quite naturally.
‘Yes, she costs an awful lot, you know, and I can earn almost twice as much.’
‘But you prefer hospital.’
‘Oh, lord, yes—I miss it dreadfully.’ She stopped again. She mustn’t whine about it, above all to him. ‘But I’m sure to get an interesting job when I get back—it’s a very good agency.’ She turned her head and smiled at him, but he was staring in front of him, his profile stern, so she went on in a flurry: ‘How is Nerissa—I mean Juffrouw van der Post? I expect you see a great deal of each other, it must be very nice for you—I mean, to have her to talk to when you’re finished at the hospital.’
Valentijn threw her a quick glance and she saw that his eyes were cold and hard; she’d said the wrong thing again, he would tell her any minute to mind her own business.
He didn’t. He said in an expressionless voice: ‘As a matter of fact I haven’t seen her since Paul was taken ill.’
Relieved that she wasn’t to have her head bitten off, Hannah ploughed on. ‘How silly of me—of course you wouldn’t want her to risk getting the ‘flu or picking up a bug.’
‘I don’t seem to have been as thoughtful with you, Hannah.’
‘But I’m a nurse.’
He gave a chuckle. ‘I tend to forget that. Here’s the villa. You’ll find Corinna downstairs in the small sitting room. Go on in—I’ll be along presently.’
So Hannah went inside, to be met and welcomed and taken to Mevrouw van Eysink who was sitting in a chair looking out of the window, doing nothing.
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.’
‘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.’
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?