seemed that the slightly shabby colonial-style house had been hiding some secrets. The grounds at the back were bigger than he would have expected. He hid a smile, likening it to walking into the Tardis in Dr Who. There were green bushes, some trees and the three individual white houses set just far enough away from each other to give some privacy. Each of the houses had a different coloured front door, one yellow, one blue and one lilac.
She led him over to the house with the blue door, swinging it open and flicking a switch. She picked up the key that was hanging on a hook behind the door. ‘Here you go,’ she said as she handed it over.
A warm glow filled the small space. It was cosy. Nowhere near as big as his house back home. There was a small red sofa in the main room and a table with two chairs, then a neat kitchen set in the back. With a smile Lien showed him the two compact bedrooms, both beds covered with mosquito nets, and bathroom.
It didn’t matter that the space was small. There was something about the furnishings and decor that made it welcoming. He laid Regan carefully down on the white bedspread, ensured the mosquito net was in place, then paused for a second and pulled something from Regan’s small backpack. He didn’t want Regan to wake up with nothing familiar around him.
The picture frame held two pictures of Esther. In one, shortly after delivery, she was pale, holding Regan wrapped in a white blanket, and in the other Esther was much brighter—it was taken a year before her diagnosis with acute myeloid leukaemia and Regan said it was his favourite picture of his mum. In it she was laughing on a beach as her blonde hair blew in her eyes. Joe’s fingers hovered over the photo as he placed it on the bed next to Regan’s head and backed out of the room, leaving the door open.
‘I need a story,’ Regan whispered with his eyes still closed.
Joe looked at the stuffed-full cases and Lien caught his gaze. She gave a little shrug. ‘I have a never-ending stack of stories. Why don’t you let me tell him one while you try to get yourself settled?’
Something inside him twinged. Telling Regan a bedtime story had been part of their bedtime routine for the last four years. He was tired himself, though, his brain not really computing what time of day it was. Fatigue told him that it might be nice for Regan to hear a story that wasn’t one of those he’d repeated time and time again over the years. New stories were in short supply. ‘That’s really kind of you,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem,’ said Lien as she sat at the edge of Regan’s bed and launched into a story about dragons.
Joe was actually sad that Regan was so sleepy. He would relish a story like this. Still, it gave him time to open their cases and find their toiletries and some clothes for the next day, along with their mosquito repellent. Everything else could wait.
Lien appeared next to him just as he was trying to shake the creases out of a shirt. ‘He’s gone,’ she said quietly. ‘I think he was halfway there when I started.’
Lien moved over to the kitchen. ‘Tea?’ she asked, holding up a pair of cups. She opened the fridge and a few cupboards. ‘Don’t worry, Hoa has filled the fridge and cupboards with some staples for you.’
‘She has? That was kind of her.’
Lien gestured to the red sofa. ‘Sit down. You must be tired.’ She gave him a curious look. ‘Scotland? Isn’t it? You’ve come along way.’
Joe relaxed down onto the sofa. It was just as comfortable as it looked. He watched as Lien moved easily around the kitchen, boiling water and preparing the tea. The smell drifting towards him was distinctly floral. This wasn’t the strong black tea he was used to in Scotland.
A few minutes later Lien handed him the steaming cup of pale yellow liquid. He tried to give an unobtrusive sniff. ‘What kind of tea is this?’
She settled next to him, her leg brushing against his jeans. ‘The best kind, jasmine. Haven’t you tried it before?’
It smelled like perfume, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud, so he balanced the cup on his lap and turned a little to face her. ‘Thanks for this. You didn’t need to.’
‘I did.’ She grinned, eyes glinting as she sipped her own tea. ‘It’s bribery. I’m just trying to make sure you’ll be fit to work tomorrow. The jasmine tea should relax you a little, and hopefully you’ll get some sleep and your body clock will adjust.’
He nodded. ‘Ah, bribery. Now I understand.’
She gestured with her hand to the window in front of them. It looked back over to the main building. ‘Tomorrow will be busy, a baptism of fire.’ She pulled a face and gave a shrug. ‘There’s some kind of norovirus bug out there right now. We’re getting lots of dehydrated kids and adults.’
Joe shuddered. ‘Norovirus. Perfect.’
He waited a second then gave her another curious look. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘All my life,’ she replied simply. ‘Born and brought up in Hanoi. Trained here, then spent a year in Washington and another in Dublin.’ She gave him a smile. ‘I wanted to see the world.’
‘But you came back?’
She hesitated for a second. ‘Of course. I trained with Duc. He’s Khiem and Hoa’s son. This local hospital has been here since I was kid. They opened it with some money they inherited, and have kept it running ever since.’
‘The government doesn’t pay?’
She pulled a face. ‘They make a contribution. Hanoi has a population of over six million…’ she let out a laugh ‘…with nearly as many motorbikes. The government is trying to get a handle on our health system, but it’s nowhere near as robust as the system in the UK. In most circumstances, you still have to pay to see a doctor in Vietnam.’
‘And can the people around here pay?’
She shook her head and held out both hands. ‘That’s why we’re here. We offer free healthcare to anyone who attends. Immunisations for kids. Prenatal health care for mothers. And anything else too.’
Now he’d sat down he realised his bones were actually aching, along with every muscle in his shoulders. Travelling did that to you. The aroma from the tea was strong, vibrant. He took a sip of the hot liquid and tried to let his taste buds acclimatise. He was conscious of the fact that Lien’s dark eyes were watching him carefully.
He held up the cup. ‘Not too bad.’
She shot him a suspicious glance. ‘Well, get used to it. Jasmine tea and iced coffee are the norm around here.’
He lifted one hand to give his tired eyes a rub. ‘Your English is great. I’m a bit worried about tomorrow. Let’s just say I’m not entirely fluent in Vietnamese. I’ve learned a few words, but I couldn’t hold a proper conversation.’
She shook her head and waved a hand. ‘Don’t worry. We have a full-time interpreter in the hospital. She’ll normally be around to help you. A number of our nurses are bilingual too. You should manage fine.’
She nodded towards the bedroom. ‘Have you made arrangements for your son?’
He glanced to the little sleeping figure on the
