been offered a relief Sister’s post in a couple of months’ time, and she was going to accept it. It would mean leaving the baby unit which she loved, but she had to get a Sister’s post as soon as she could, and one couldn’t quarrel with one’s bread and butter. Perhaps later on, when Sister Thorne retired…Ten years’ time—it seemed an age away; she would be thirty-four and settled into a rut from whence there was no escape—perhaps by then she would apply for her job.
She turned in at the entrance to the hospital, looking up at its mid-Victorian pile with an affectionate eye. It was a frankly hideous building, red brick and a mass of unnecessary turrets and balconies, high narrow windows which took the strength of an ox to open and shut and dreadfully out-of-date departments, yet she had a very soft spot for it. When, in a few years’ time, St Egberts was moved to the magnificent new buildings across the river and already half completed, she would regret going. It had stood for hundreds of years where it now was, dominating the narrow city streets and rows of smoke-grimed houses, and it would never be quite the same again.
She had chosen to go back after supper. She could have stayed at home for another night and got up early and gone on duty in the morning, but it was always such a rush. She pushed open the main doors and crossed the entrance hall. Just as she was turning into one of the dark passages leading from it she was hailed by old Michael, the Head Porter.
‘Message for you, Staff Nurse—Mevrouw van Eysink wants you to go to her room as soon as you come in.’ He grinned at her. ‘Very important, she said.’
Hannah had gone to poke her head through the small window in the lodge. ‘Me? Why? Have I done something awful, Michael?’
‘Don’t ask me, love. She sounded excited like and said I was to be sure and keep an eye open in case you came back this evening. Her hubby’s with her.’
Hannah frowned. ‘I can’t think of anything…’ she began. ‘I suppose I’d better go.’
She altered course, taking another passage which led her to the lifts. She wasn’t supposed to use them, but there was no one about. She gained the Prem. Unit and slid inside the doors and peered cautiously round the office door. Louise was there, writing: the night nurses would already be busy settling their small patients for the first part of the night, making up feeds and handing out cocoa and sleeping pills to the mothers.
‘You’re late,’ whispered Hannah.
Louise raised her pretty head. ‘Hullo—Sister went off late and left me a mass of stuff to finish and of course we had an emergency in. I’m almost finished, though. I say, your Mevrouw van Eysink wants to see you.’
‘That’s why I’m here. Is something awful wrong?’
‘Not a thing—all a bit mysterious and hush-hush; hubby’s here, and the uncle was here this morning. I say, did you know that he’s a famous paediatrician?’
‘Yes, I knew. I’ll nip along now—see you presently—I’ll make a pot of tea.’
Mevrouw van Eysink was sitting up in bed and her husband was sitting beside her, an arm round her shoulders. He was a nice-looking young man and as he got up when Hannah went into the room, he was smiling widely.
‘Hannah!’ cried Mevrouw van Eysink. ‘You do not object that we take your free time? But Paul must go back tonight and it is most important that we talk together.’
Hannah walked over to the bed, casting an eye over the sleeping small Paul as she went. ‘Paul’s all right?’ she wanted to know.
‘He has gained three hundred grams, but he does not like the other nurse—she is sweet and very efficient, but I think that deep inside her she becomes impatient and he knows it. He is a clever boy.’
Hannah agreed warmly. Baby Paul, arriving too soon into the world, had shown a good deal of spirit in just staying in it, let alone turning himself into a normal healthy baby.
‘We wish to ask you…’ began Mevrouw van Eysink, and nudged her husband, who went on:
‘I am taking Paul and Corinna home at the end of next week, Hannah, and we want you to come with us. I have spoken to your Directrice and the doctors who have been attending and they say that it would be quite possible for this to be done, provided that you agree.’
Hannah’s wide mouth had opened, so had her eyes. ‘Me? Go with you to Holland? Oh, I’d love to!’ She beamed at them both. ‘But how?’
‘Oh, you would be lent to us as a necessity to little Paul’s health. Three weeks or a month. By then Corinna will be almost her own self once more.’ He added slyly: ‘Don’t worry about your chances for the relief Sister’s post; they’re as good as ever.’
Hannah had forgotten all about that anyway. ‘Oh, I’d be glad to come.’ The smile faded as she remembered her mother. ‘Mijnheer van Eysink, could I let you know for certain tomorrow? You see, I live with my Mother and she—she doesn’t like being on her own; I’d have to arrange for someone…’
‘Why, of course, Hannah, but I’m sure your mother would manage for a week or two with someone to help her. Is she ill or an invalid?’
‘No, no, she’s…she’s just…’
Mevrouw van Eysink gave her a thoughtful look. ‘Well, you talk to her, Hannah,’ she advised briskly, ‘and let us know tomorrow. Perhaps if she realised how important it is for little Paul to thrive for the next few weeks—and he does it better with you than with anyone else—I am sure she will fall in with your plans.’
Hannah, looking at the two smiling, happy faces, decided not to argue the point. She would have to think of something; she would be off in the evening and although she hadn’t meant to, she would go home and talk to her mother.
She stayed a few minutes longer and then went over to the home, where she joined her closest friends over the inevitable pot of tea and told them her news. They were flatteringly surprised and excited, although one or two of them wondered privately if she would be able to persuade her mother to let her go—they had met Mrs Lang upon occasion and found her charming, pretty and quite ruthless when it came to having her own way.
Hannah went on duty in the morning, half prepared to find that the van Eysinks had changed their minds, but the moment she entered Mevrouw van Eysink’s room, she was met with an eager demand for her answer.
She picked up little Paul and handed him to his mother before she replied. She would have to explain a little more about her mother, and she did it carefully, anxious that her patient wouldn’t think that she was finding excuses not to go to Holland. ‘So you see,’ she finished, ‘it’s just a question of finding someone to be with Mother while I’m away, only it is a little difficult. She hasn’t many friends and almost no family, and she would dislike a stranger.’ She wrapped herself in the bathing apron and went to fetch Paul from Mevrouw van Eysink.
‘We must think of something, Hannah.’ Lost in thought, Mevrouw van Eysink nibbled at a beautifully manicured finger. ‘I think perhaps I know what to do, but I will say no more at present.’ She smiled brilliantly. ‘You will see your mother this evening? Good, then we must hope, is it not?’
‘I’m bound to think of something,’ declared Hannah, more to comfort herself than anyone else. She bathed and fed Paul while his mother kept up a lively chatter about nothing in particular. And Hannah, her neat head bowed over the scrap on her knee, tried to think of someone whom her mother would accept as a companion for a few weeks. She could call to mind no one at all.
Presently, her two patients comfortable, she tidied everything away, and with the promise of sending coffee as soon as she could reach the kitchen, she picked up her tray and left the room. She was halfway along the corridor when she met Uncle Valentijn. He passed her with a coolly courteous good morning and a glance which didn’t really see her. She doubted very much if he remembered who she was.
CHAPTER TWO
BUT HANNAH WAS WRONG. Uncle Valentijn