she went, to lie awake for a time and then fall into the sleep she needed so badly. She woke once, to remember that she was due back at work in two days’ time. When she woke the second time it was to find Nel standing by the bed with a breakfast tray. There was a note propped up against the teapot telling her that the family hoped that she would join them for coffee, but that if she was still tired she was to remain in bed.
She went downstairs presently and found Mevrouw Nauta in the drawing-room. Her husband was there too, but there was no sign of the Professor. ‘Radolf has gone to make the necessary arrangements,’ Mevrouw Nauta told her. ‘He should be back at any moment. You slept? You have had a tiring two weeks, my dear, and we are most grateful to you.’
‘You made my mother very happy,’ observed Mijnheer Nauta. ‘She loved music, above all the piano.’
When the Professor joined them he said at once, ‘My grandmother asked that you should attend her funeral, Sarah. In four days’ time. I’ll arrange for you to travel back the day after that.’
‘Well,’ said Sarah, ‘I don’t think—’
She was stopped by his frown. ‘It was her particular wish—unless you have any other plans?’
She bristled at his manner—indifferent and arrogant, she told herself, and she was on the point of reminding him that her plans included going back to work when Mevrouw Nauta chimed in. ‘Oh, do please stay, Sarah, you were so good to her and it was her wish.’
‘Very well,’ said Sarah quietly, and listened politely while Mevrouw Nauta enumerated the family who might be expected to attend the funeral. Sarah hoped that there weren’t many more like the Professor.
She wrote to the head of her department that afternoon. Miss Payne disliked her, but surely she would understand that Sarah couldn’t refuse to stay in Holland? She walked to the village, very glad to be free to go where she liked, purchased a stamp and posted her letter—happily unaware that there was a lightning strike of postmen in England, and that the chances of her letter’s getting to its destination on time were slim.
The next three days were extremely pleasant. She had her meals with the family and spent some time with Mevrouw Nauta, but the rest of the days were hers. She wandered around the countryside and on the second day borrowed a bike and went further afield. The weather was kind, for at least it didn’t rain, and on the third day she cycled the seven miles over to Sneek. She hadn’t the time to see much and she longed for time to explore, but at least she had seen one Dutch town.
Of the Professor there was little to be seen; he was polite to her when they met at meals, but she had the feeling that he was avoiding her. That, she supposed, was natural enough—he had engaged her to be a companion to his grandmother, and now she was surplus to his requirements. He was polite at the funeral, introducing her, when their paths crossed, to the hordes of family and friends who came. Sarah shook hands and murmured politely, lost in a sea of strange faces.
It wasn’t until that evening at dinner that she heard him telling his parents that he would be leaving that night. It seemed that they already knew that he was going away, but now for some reason he would be going almost at once.
‘You’ll take the car?’ asked his father, and nodded his head when the Professor observed that it was an easy drive.
He bade her goodnight and hoped that she would have a good journey, his voice so cold that she replied stiffly in as few words as possible. It was Hans, driving her to Schiphol the following morning, who told her that the Professor had gone to Germany for a fortnight. ‘He lectures, miss, and he’ll call in on his way back to London, I expect.’ He added, ‘We are all quite sorry to see you go, miss. You made the old lady’s last days very happy.’
She thanked him gratefully, responding suitably to his hope that they would meet again at some time, and said goodbye at Schiphol with regret.
The Professor might not like her overmuch, but he had arranged her journey meticulously. Moreover, he had arranged for someone to deliver Charles to her bedsit that evening, for which she was grateful, for without her cat her homecoming would have been lonely indeed. Her room, after the luxury of the Nautas’ home, seemed smaller and darker and shabbier than it actually was, but once the fire was lit and Charles had settled down in front of it and she had unpacked her few things, her good sense reasserted itself. She had a home, even though it was one room, and she had a job, too.
She was at her desk in good time in the morning, confident that Miss Payne, however much she disliked her, would have accepted her letter. Besides, the Professor, when he arranged her return, would surely have explained why she hadn’t gone back to her job when she should have done.
An hour later she was forced to admit that he had either forgotten or had decided it wasn’t necessary to give any explanation to her department. Miss Payne, choosing her time between clinics, had come to see her and hadn’t minced her words. Sarah was not to be depended upon, and was she aware that this was the second time that she had returned late from a holiday without bothering to let anyone know?
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