Hannah Read online

  ‘Almost nothing,’ Hannah assured her, ‘only making sure that she does her exercises and walks a little.’

  She said goodbye to her new friend, kissed the top of baby Paul’s head and wished Mevrouw van Eysink goodbye for a few hours. She had already told her where she intended going, so that she could be found fairly quickly if she was needed, but she thought it unlikely; Henrika was obviously a very competent girl. In slacks and a cotton shirt, her hair in a thick plait, she went to the stables, and five minutes later was ambling down the drive on the mare’s back.

  The mare was a little beauty, with just enough spirit to make riding her interesting. Hannah allowed her to go at her own pace along the lanes she had already explored on the bike; the small village first and then the larger one, where she had noticed a café—she would get something to eat there and water the mare. It was a cloudless morning and already hot, and the woods on either side of the lane were tempting. Hannah turned the mare’s head and took a sandy path leading nowhere.

  It was well after noon when she dismounted at the café, and she was pleased to see that another horse, a great powerful chestnut, was tied in the shade of the trees alongside; it showed that the café owners would let her water the mare. She left the two animals side by side, patted the mare’s glossy neck and went inside. The café was quite small and dark after the bright sunshine outside, and it seemed rather crowded by reason of the billiard table in its centre and the ring of small tables arranged round the walls. There was a bar facing the door and she hesitated for a moment, a little shy of the curious glances being cast at her, then started towards it, to be arrested halfway by a well-known voice. ‘Over here, Hannah,’ advised Uncle Valentijn, sitting at his ease against a far wall, and when she stood, openmouthed and irresolute, got to his feet and pulled out the chair opposite him, so that there was really nothing she could do but join him.

  He waited until she was seated before he sat down, lifting a finger to the bar owner as he did so. ‘What would you like to drink, Hannah?’ He smiled pleasantly at her. ‘The iced orange juice is delicious.’

  ‘That will be nice, thank you, Doctor van Bertes.’

  ‘And you will be kind enough to have lunch with me? I drove over to see Paul and there are one or two things I should like to talk over with you.’

  ‘He’s not doing well?’ asked Hannah instantly.

  ‘As far as I can see, he is doing very well indeed, but there are one or two things…’

  The orange juice came and she drank it slowly as he sat back in his chair drinking his lager, watching her. ‘What things?’ she asked, anxious to break a silence which was getting uncomfortable.

  ‘Shall we eat first? There’s not much choice here, but the uitsmijter is excellent.’

  ‘Is that chestnut outside yours?’ asked Hannah. ‘How did you know where I was?’

  ‘You were sensible enough to supply Corinna with your itinerary. Today is the only time in which I am free for a few hours…I hope you don’t mind?’ He smiled again and she almost smiled back at him. ‘Would you like to try the uitsmijter?’

  ‘Very well, as long as there aren’t any onions in it.’

  ‘Beef or cheese,’ he told her seriously, ‘on bread and butter, with fried eggs on top and a small salad.’

  ‘Beef, please.’ She added rather diffidently: ‘Doctor van Bertes, it’s—it’s my free day, so you won’t mind if I just eat my lunch and then go?’

  His face was inscrutable. ‘Certainly I shan’t mind, although I must point out that I am going back to the villa by a particularly pleasant path through the woods. You have no need to talk to me, I shall ride in front and show you the way.’

  She gazed down at the food put before her. ‘That’s very kind of you,’ she mumbled, ‘but I’ve all the afternoon…’

  ‘This path takes all the afternoon.’

  ‘Oh, well, isn’t Juffrouw van der Post with you?’

  ‘She is in Friesland on a weekend visit.’ Uncle Valentijn sounded smooth, although she thought he was annoyed. She sampled the uitsmijter and said in a social sort of voice: ‘What a pity—I expect you miss her.’

  Her remark was ignored. ‘The reason I wished to see you was to make sure that you have everything you might require for little Paul and that you are comfortably situated yourself. I am aware that you are working many more hours than you should; perhaps in two weeks or so we might hand over for longer periods to Henrika, but I should require your assurance that she and Paul get on well together before considering this. If you are entirely satisfied, then it should be possible for her to take over completely when you go. As it is, I have pointed out to Corinna that you must have another half day free each week at least.’

  Hannah frowned at him. ‘I’m very happy as I am,’ she pointed out sharply, ‘and surely it’s for Mevrouw van Eysink…’

  His voice was as bland as his face. ‘You consider that I am interfering? I must remind you that little Paul is in my care and as far as I’m concerned he will be given every chance to become as healthy and strong as a full-term child. Paul and Corinna have asked me to do whatever I think is necessary for his well-being, and that includes making sure that his nurse doesn’t become tired and irritable and impatient because she lacks sufficient leisure.’ He finished his beer. ‘Would you like another uitsmijter—or another orangeade? No? Then perhaps an icecream?’

  He beckoned the proprietor and the man came with a little dish piled with icecream, lavishly decorated with whipped cream and chopped nuts. Hannah, who had had every intention of refusing to eat it—after all, he hadn’t even asked her if she wanted it—allowed her liking for icecream to overcome her dignity. And while she ate it, UncleValentijn chatted pleasantly—about the surrounding countryside, the pleasures of Hilversum and Utrecht, the delightful weather, and the various bridle paths in the vicinity. He ended with the smooth hope that her mother wasn’t missing her too much.

  ‘It seems not,’ said Hannah, savouring the last mouthful. ‘She likes Mrs Slocombe very much.’ She put down her spoon and added carefully, ‘Thank you very much for my lunch. Now I’ll be on my way again, I think.’ She looked round the café looking for something which might be the Ladies!

  ‘It’s the door across the room—the left-hand one.’ Uncle Valentijn spoke in a detached way, but his eyes gleamed with amusement.

  Hannah thanked him politely and added, ‘Goodbye, Doctor van Bertes.’

  He was still there when she went back into the café, leaning up against the bar, talking to the owner. But he joined her at the door and crossed to where the horses were tethered. He said pleasantly: ‘We go down this road for about a mile and then turn off into those woods on the right.’

  Hannah was giving the mare a lump of sugar she had taken from the table.

  ‘Please don’t bother—I’m quite happy just riding along by myself.’ She looked at him as she spoke and realised that she might as well be addressing the wall behind them. Uncle Valentijn was obviously a man who having made up his mind about something, had no intention of being diverted. She said reluctantly, ‘Oh, very well, but I can’t think why you’re bothering…’

  He swung her up into the saddle and got on to his own horse. The face he turned to her wore a look of faint surprise. ‘I can’t think why either.’

  They rode in silence for some minutes until Hannah, peeping at him, saw that the look of surprise had given way to a kind of consternation.

  ‘You look rather worried,’ she ventured. ‘Is it little Paul?’

  ‘No.’ He spoke so coldly that she bit her lip and urged the mare to trot ahead. But presently he said in a perfectly ordinary voice: ‘Turn on to the path now. Queenie knows the way, it broadens out presently.’

  It was pretty under the trees and cool. Hannah sat easily in the saddle, her plait of hair over one shoulder, her cheeks pink from the fresh air and exercise. She looked pretty and the doctor cast her a sidelong glance as he urged his horse alongside her. They were going up a v
ery slight incline and at its top he put out a hand and brought Queenie to a halt.

  ‘If you look to your left, you’ll see the villa to one side of those pine trees, and now look in the opposite direction—you can see Hilversum.’

  ‘Where’s Utrecht?’ asked Hannah.

  ‘To the south. It’s too hazy to see clearly; in the winter when the trees are bare and the air is clear, you can see it easily enough. You must go there one day before you return to England. There are some good shops.’

  ‘There’s a museum I read about,’ said Hannah who had forgotten that Uncle Valentijn was remote and mocking and didn’t like her overmuch; indeed, at the moment he was a delightful companion. ‘The van Baeren—there’s some silver there, and paintings…’

  ‘You are interested in silver? And old furniture?’

  ‘Yes, although I don’t know much about them. There’s another museum, isn’t there—the Central.’

  ‘Yes. You have been reading up a good deal about the city, Hannah.’

  She answered in a commonsense voice: ‘Well, I hoped I’d have time to see something of Holland.’

  They ambled on presently and the afternoon passed, to her surprise, very quickly. They were riding in a wide circle with the villa on the far side of the perimeter and they stopped again as they came out of the woods on to a narrow lane running beside a canal, and sat down on its bank, leaving the horses to graze while they sat, their backs against a conveniently fallen tree.

  ‘Do you ride a great deal?’ Hannah wanted to know.

  ‘As often as I can. I live in the very heart of Utrecht, but I keep Charlie at Paul’s place; it’s a very short drive to and fro.’

  Emboldened by his friendly manner, Hannah ventured: ‘Your fiancée—Juffrouw van der Post—does she ride too?’

  ‘She’s a splendid horsewoman.’

  ‘She looks as though she could do everything well.’ Hannah had no idea how wistful her voice sounded. ‘And she’s quite beautiful.’

  He gave her a cold stare. ‘You will be telling me next what a lucky man I am.’

  She reddened, because that was exactly what she had begun to say, but she met his chilly eyes with an honest look. ‘Well, yes, I was, because that’s what I think, but I expect you find that impertinent of me.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I do think, Hannah. Tell me, have you a boy friend or fiancé or whatever you young things call it these days?’

  ‘No.’ She dimpled into a giggle. ‘You sound very elderly!’

  ‘I am a good deal older than you are, Hannah.’

  ‘And Juffrouw van der Post?’ she couldn’t resist asking.

  ‘You’re being impertinent again.’

  She felt suddenly impatient with him. ‘Well, what do you expect? I didn’t ask to ride with you, Doctor van Bertes—it was you who decided that.’

  ‘So it was. I stand corrected. Let us cry a truce and discuss the view.’

  Hannah looked at her watch. ‘How long does it take to get back from here?’ she asked. ‘I told Henrika I’d be back punctually in case there was anything worrying her.’

  Her companion smiled faintly; Hannah was a strange little creature, he thought. Usually the young women he took out were loath to part from him, and here was this rather plain, forthright girl anxious to be rid of his company. He got to his feet. ‘Two hours if we don’t hurry overmuch. Would you like to be going?’

  ‘If you don’t mind—or if you want to stay longer you could point out the way…’

  ‘I also have to be back in Utrecht very shortly after tea.’

  They rode on in silence for some time, back in the woods by now, going along sandy paths. It was cool under the trees and Hannah felt a sudden regret that her day was ending. But there would be others. Uncle Valentijn had promised her that, and she didn’t think, with all his faults, that breaking his word was one of them. They came to an old-fashioned finger signpost presently and Hannah exclaimed, ‘Oh—Drakesteyn—that’s where Princess Beatrix lived, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, although I suppose she has moved to the palace now that she has become queen. We take this path, it will bring us out on the road near the villa.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘There is a little teahouse along here, we have time for a cup of tea if you would like that.’

  ‘Thank you, I should. That uit-uitsmijter made me thirsty.’

  The teahouse wasn’t little at all according to Hannah’s standards and it was fairly full; girls in pretty summer dresses, men in open-necked shirts and slacks, a sprinkling of older people in expensive clothes. Hannah felt conscious of her elderly slacks and cheap shirt. As they dismounted she said hesitantly: ‘I’m not really dressed for this kind of place, and my hair…’

  ‘Perfectly all right,’ she was assured carelessly as he ushered her inside.

  It was rather more than a cup of tea. There were little biscuits, tiny cream buns and gorgeous confections of chocolate and whipped cream, decorated with glacé fruits and nuts. Hannah, a practical girl, decided that since she had been invited to have tea, she might as well make the most of it. She ate with appetite, polishing off two cakes with all the zest of a schoolgirl on half term holiday.

  ‘Do you diet at all?’ asked Uncle Valentijn.

  She went bright pink. ‘No—I ought to, oughtn’t I? I’m plump and I expect I’ll get fat if I’m not careful. I’ve tried once or twice, but I get so hungry. When I start putting on weight I shall have to diet.’

  ‘I shouldn’t bother; dieting makes life very dull. Have another cake?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, thanks.’ She added shyly: ‘Shall I meet you outside?’

  He nodded casually, ‘Very well,’ and watched her make her way through the tables to the far end of the café. Despite her fears, he decided, Hannah had a nice figure and once or twice that afternoon he had caught himself wondering if she were pretty after all.

  They reached the villa half an hour later and he wished her a perfunctory goodbye and when she started to thank him for showing her some of the country, he brushed it aside so impatiently that she stopped in mid-sentence and slipped away. Of course, now that they were back at the villa he would want to be shot of her—probably he regarded the whole afternoon as a necessary waste of time.

  Henrika was waiting for her, sitting placidly with little Paul on her knee. ‘He’s been with Mevrouw van Eysink for a good deal of the afternoon and he took his feeds like a man,’ she reported. ‘Well, I’m off—I’m going out this evening, dancing. Have you got a boyfriend, Hannah?’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’ Hannah smiled briefly to show that she didn’t mind at all. ‘I had a lovely day—thank you, Henrika. I hope you’ll come next Saturday.’

  ‘Sure I will. Tot ziens, then.’

  The evening passed tranquilly. Hannah, trotting to and fro about her various chores, was surprised when the gong sounded for dinner. She joined Mijnheer van Eysink and his wife in the dining room, feeling odd man out, as Uncle Valentijn had gone. She wondered where he was and then roused herself to answer Mevrouw van Eysink’s kind enquiries as to her day.

  The week slid away, each day a peaceful replica of the last. Both her patients were doing well now; Mevrouw van Eysink was getting quite active, although she was still frightened of doing too much, but with Hannah’s gentle patience was getting over that slowly, and as for baby Paul, he was growing under their very eyes, his cheeks nice and round and rosy, his arms and legs becoming positively chubby. Hannah, getting ready for bed on the Thursday night, sighed with content. Everything was going so well and she would be free again on Saturday. She set the alarm for midnight and was at once asleep.

  It must have been about one o’clock, just as she was dozing off after giving Paul his midnight feed, when she woke suddenly aware that something was wrong. She was out of bed and bending over the infant even as she thought it. Her heart turned over at the sight of him; his small face was paper-white and pinched and he lay very still, not crying. She picked him up very gently and was almost
relieved when he was sick, but the sickness was followed by screams of pain which wouldn’t be quietened. Little Paul was ill, and she made a guess as to the illness. ‘Intussusception,’ said Hannah, out loud to reassure herself, ‘or I’m a Dutchman.’

  With the infant cuddled close she reached the phone on the nursery shelf and dialled the number on the paper fastened to the wall beside it. Uncle Valentijn answered almost at once.

  ‘Hannah speaking.’ She hoped that her voice didn’t sound as frightened as she felt. ‘Paul’s ill—great pain, colicky, vomiting, very pale, rapid pulse.’

  Uncle Valentijn’s voice was reassuringly calm. ‘His last feed?’

  ‘Midnight—he took it all and went to sleep at once. I woke about five minutes ago and went to look at him. He vomited then and he’s screamed ever since—all of five minutes.’ She waited for him to speak and when he didn’t: ‘I’ve not taken his temp yet, but his pulse is uncountable and he’s very white.’

  ‘Any ideas?’

  She said impatiently: ‘It looks like intussusception…’

  ‘Good girl! Now listen. I’ll be with you in ten minutes; keep Paul in your arms, rouse someone to open the side door so that I can get in, and if Paul or Corinna wake, reassure them.’ She heard him replace the receiver before she replaced her own and picked up the house telephone.

  As Uncle Valentijn came soft-footed into the nursery Hannah wondered vaguely how he had managed to get there so very fast. True, he was wearing slacks and a cotton sweater and his hair was a little ruffled, but she didn’t pursue the thought. She laid little Paul down on the changing pad and held him still while the doctor’s large hands went to and fro over the very small stomach. ‘You’re quite right, Hannah—we’ll get him in at once and I’ll operate.’ He glanced up at her. ‘Give him to me, I’ll go along and see Paul and Corinna while you put on some clothes. You can have three minutes.’