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the old lady was. It was large and high-ceilinged, with two long windows and a door between them opening on to a balcony. The carpet underfoot was deep and soft, and the furnishings were in a restful mushroom-pink with pink patterned curtains and bedspread. The bed and dressing-table were in the style of Sheraton, and there was a dear little writing-desk between the windows and a small armchair drawn up to a reading-table. She had a brief vision of her bedsit in London—the contrast was cruel, and there was no point in making it. She peeped into the adjoining bathroom, which was peach-pink and white, its fluffy towels, bowls of soap and bottles of lotions calling forth a sigh of pleasure from her, and then she started to unpack. It didn’t take long; she tidied herself and went down the staircase, feeling nervous. Hans was in the hall, and he ushered her into the drawing-room again. The Nautas gave her a drink, and engaged her in gentle talk until they crossed the hall to the dining-room, where she sat between them at a large, round mahogany table, eating the delicious food before her and keeping up her end of the conversation. After they had had their coffee she was led back upstairs, but this time they turned away from the gallery which overlooked the hall and went down a wide corridor. At a door halfway along it, Mevrouw Nauta paused. ‘I should have told you—it may be necessary for you to stay up late or get up in the night, so we have turned a small dressing-room next to my mother-in-law’s room into a bedroom for you, so that if you think it necessary you can sleep there and be at hand. We hope that there will be no need of that; we do not expect you to stay with her for twenty-four hours at a time, but as she grows weaker…’
‘I understand, Mevrouw Nauta—I won’t leave her if she wants my company.’
The room they entered was at the back of the house overlooking the garden, which sloped away in a vast sweep of lawn to a belt of trees. It was a very large room and the small four-poster bed against one wall was almost dwarfed by its size, although it in its turn was dwarfing the tiny figure lying in it. The Professor’s grandmother was a very small lady, and frail. All the same, the eyes she turned on her visitors were still a vivid blue and her voice, a mere thread of sound, sounded decidedly ill-tempered.
Sarah didn’t understand what she said, but then she switched to English, fluent but heavily accented. ‘So you’re the girl my son has decided I must have breathing down my neck. Well, my girl, I can’t say I’m glad to see you, for I’m not. Come over here so that I can look at you.’
This is far worse than anything I had imagined, reflected Sarah, obligingly going to stand in a patch of sunlight. She stood still, looking a good deal calmer than she felt, and looked back at the cross face.
‘Well, why did you come?’ demanded the old lady.
‘Because I was asked to.’
‘You’re being paid? Too much, I’ll be bound.’
‘Of course I’m being paid, Mevrouw; as to whether it’s too much, I cannot say because I don’t know.’
‘Hmm—got a tongue in your head, too.’ The blue eyes turned upon Mevrouw Nauta junior. ‘Adele, go away while I talk to this girl.’
Mevrouw Nauta said something in a soothing tone and went away, and the old lady said briskly in her worn-out voice, ‘Get a chair and come and sit by me. What’s your name?’
‘Sarah.’ She sat obediently, and waited patiently while her companion closed her eyes and appeared to snooze for a few minutes.
‘I’m dying, do you know that?’
‘I have been told that you are very ill,’ said Sarah cautiously.
‘Have you met my grandson?’
‘Yes. I work in the hospital where he is a consultant.’
‘Like him?’
‘I don’t know him. I’m a clerk—’
‘No looks to speak of,’ muttered the old lady. ‘Nice eyes, doesn’t cringe, thank heaven. Give me a drink, Sarah.’ The water revived her. ‘Radolf isn’t married.’ She gave a naughty cackle of laughter. ‘Setting your cap at him?’
Sarah laughed. ‘Good gracious, no. He doesn’t like me overmuch, you know, and I only work at the clinic where he’s the consultant. I think perhaps you don’t quite understand—we don’t move in the same circles.’
‘No looks, but not dim either,’ said Mevrouw Nauta senior. ‘I like to be read to. Late at night when everyone else is asleep.’ She stared at Sarah. ‘Did they tell you that? That I like company during the small hours? Not that you’ll have to put up with that for long. If I don’t like you, I shall say so.’
‘Very sensible,’ agreed Sarah pleasantly. ‘Would you like me to read to you now?’
‘Yes. Jane Eyre, over there on that table by the window. My daughter-in-law has been reading it to me, and it’s almost finished. I’ll have Pride and Prejudice next, not that there will be time to read it to the end.’
Sarah had fetched the book and opened it at the marker.
‘Do you know how old I am?’
‘Yes, Mevrouw Nauta, ninety.’
‘The Nautas live long lives, but of course we none of us can go on forever.’
‘I don’t suppose that would be very pleasant,’ agreed Sarah, and she began to read. She had a pleasant, very clear voice, and she read steadily until she glanced up and saw that the old lady was asleep. She put the marker back in the book and walked over to the window and looked out. The garden was quite beautiful and it was very quiet—after the noise and bustle of London it was bliss. But she doubted if she would have much opportunity to enjoy it. It seemed to her that she was expected to spend her days and nights with the old lady, with only the briefest of respites when it was convenient. But this gloomy outlook was quite wrong. Just before four o’clock, while the old lady still slept, Mevrouw Nauta came back.
‘There has been little time to talk,’ she observed. ‘You must be thinking that we intended leaving you here for the rest of the day. I always have my tea up here, so you will be free for an hour at least. Then, if you will come back until just before eight o’clock, while you have dinner my mother-in-law’s maid will make her ready for the night—that takes about an hour. It is then that I must ask you to take over until Mevrouw Nauta goes to sleep; she likes to be read to, and she loves to talk although it exhausts her. If she falls asleep around midnight, then she will not wake before six o’clock or later, but if she has a bad night then I am afraid I must ask you to sleep in the dressing-room…’ She looked rather anxiously at Sarah. ‘I think that Radolf didn’t make all this quite clear to you? I thought not. During the day someone will relieve you for an hour or two so that you may feel free to do as you like. There is a pool in the garden if you like to swim and books in the library, and the village is close by. Of course, if her condition worsens, you may have to stay with her for longer periods. We shall do our best to make it up to you later. Now, do go and have your tea—you will find it in the drawing-room—and then take a stroll round the garden. There will still be time for you to change for the evening before you come back here.’
Thank heaven for the dove-grey, thought Sarah, agreeing pleasantly to everything her companion had said.
She had her tea with the master of the house, who put himself out to be pleasant. ‘You know Radolf?’ he asked her.
‘No,’ said Sarah, ‘not really. I see him from time to time, that’s all. I think he might not recognise me away from my desk at the hospital.’
Her host looked vaguely surprised and began to talk about the weather, a safe subject, and presently he offered to show her round the garden. It was much larger than she had thought; if she could spend an hour each day wandering in it she would be quite happy. She admired the flower-beds and, had she but known it, delighted her companion by showing a knowledge of the shrubs and trees around them.
‘You have a garden?’
‘No, I live in the East End of London, but my home is—was—in the country and