Chapter 10

Hannah had the first part of her Sunday day shift with Eleanor. "You look chirpy Pet," Eleanor said when they were 'alone'. "Given how bad Stacey said you were yesterday I am surprised."

"George is coming tonight!" Hannah exclaimed.

"George, as in the designated father of your children?" Eleanor asked lightly

"Yes, that one," Hannah said. "Only he doesn't know that yet."

"But surely he must be keen on you if he is visiting?" Eleanor said in some confusion.

Hannah realised that she had never told Eleanor about her living arrangements. They had talked a lot and found many things they had in common, including being hit on by Dr. Hamilton-Smythe. Eleanor, who hated the man with a vengeance, had been in stitches over the professor's gentle jest. "We should set up a petition to have Rutherford de-ball Greg - it could be the main entertainment at the Christmas party," she had said. "I swear three quarters of the nurses would sign it!"

But George had never been mentioned - except indirectly on Hannah's first day in 'Right Ward'. She now told Eleanor about the apartment and George's occasional visits. "But who is he?" Eleanor asked now even more confused.

"He is a Norwegian businessman and the widowed husband of my mother's cousin," Hannah said.

"Oh!" Eleanor said. "A sort of uncle then. How old is he?"

"Late forties," Hannah replied. "But very well kept."

"O-ho," Eleanor said. "And a widower?"

"Yes, my auntie died last year," Hannah said.

"And you want him," Eleanor said. Again more like a statement than a question.

"Yes!" Hannah sighed. "I just don't know how. I mean, he has three kids and he lives and works in Oslo. But I only ever feel happy when I am with him."

"You could move to Norway..." Eleanor said tentatively. She didn't really want to see her friend go, but on the other hand it had always been understood that Hannah was only in London for a year or so, planning to return to Australia after that.

"Have you heard the language they speak over there?" Hannah said in despair. "I understand zilch. And I was always a prize idiot at learning languages."

"Well, you'll have to find a way to make him move here then Pet," Eleanor said lightly and kissed her friend on the nose. Their work precluded more talking and mid-afternoon a bleary-eyed Eleanor went home. "Have a pleasant evening Pet," she waved and rushed off to catch her bus.

The day dragged on, but eventually Hannah's shift finally did end. As she was walking up Shad Themes she noted light from the apartment. She almost flew up the stairs and when she opened the door she was met by the most mouth-watering smells - and a sight to match. George, dressed in a shirt with rolled up sleeves, business pants and an improvised apron made from a tea-towel, was preparing a meal in the kitchen. "Hello Hannah my love," he said. "I managed to get on an earlier plane, so I'm cooking!"

This kiss he got was not of the kind usually exchanged between uncle and niece, and the hug turned into a long, close caress. "I am so glad to see you," Hannah said.

"So I gather, and it is mutual," a bemused George replied.

"And I am so hungry," Hannah added. "What is that you're making?"

"I'm cooking various things in tempura batter - using genuine Japanese tea seed oil," George said. "The shellfish and the red Kuri squash - you Aussies call them Hokkaido pumpkins - need a little time; the Shitake mushrooms, bell peppers, eggplant and gobo root much shorter. And the leaves only go in for a few seconds."

"Mmmmm," Hannah said.

"Mmmmm," George agreed - although that had also a lot to do with the fact that Hannah had now taken off her coat and was showing her nurse's uniform.

She was blatantly unbuttoning said garment when she returned from hanging her coat in the hall. "I'll get changed quickly," she said, "and come and a set a table."

"OK," George said - following her closely with his eyes. "But we'll eat here and don't be long - the food will be ready in a few minutes and it spoils from waiting."

"Fine," Hannah said. She stripped down to panties by shrugging out of her uniform, unclasping her bra and removing her stockings. In a deliberate move she put on nothing but a long cream mohair cardigan with a fairly deep V-neck - besides the silver Viking necklace, of course.

"What are we drinking?" she said when she reappeared from her bedroom and started putting plates on the kitchen-bench itself.

George nearly burned himself on the hot oil from the shock of seeing her outfit. "Em, eh, white wine. There are a couple of very nice white Aussies in the fridge," he stammered.

"Lovely!" Hannah said. She practically never drank alcohol and never alone, but neither of them had to get up early - she not at all since she had tomorrow off. And although her period pain was gone now, she still welcomed the idea of a glass or two. Or six.

They sat down on the bar-stools and ate. She with youthful appetite; he with an appetite inspired by hers - and her. "God, you are beautiful!" he exclaimed.

"And you are just so sweet," she said with a blazing smile and leant over to kiss him, giving him an even better view to the necklace between her breasts. He quit pretending and openly admired the view. She noted and smiled. Inwardly she cursed her period. 'I'm sure I could seduce him tonight, ' she thought. 'But never mind - let's build it up - and I'd much rather it was him seducing me... '

They finished eating. She emptied the bottle in their large wine glasses - she had 'accidentally' picked huge Burgundy bowls - and fetched the second bottle in the fridge. "Let's move to the sofa," she said. He smiled and complied. They sat at opposite ends of the sofa, she with her legs pulled up under her. Their talk about all kinds of everyday things flowed freely. So did the wine.

She excused herself to the bathroom. The last pad was unsoiled; she discarded it. When she came back she returned not to 'her' end of the sofa but to his. She placed her head in his lap and stretched out. She was definitely 'influenced' by the alcohol, but strangely did not feel actually drunk. He pulled up a blanket from the basket next to the sofa and covered her. They were quiet for a while and he was just going to suggest they should call it a night when she looked up at him and started to talk.

She told him about Greg. As in everything. She cried. He just held her. "You could have told me, you know," he said gently. But even now she couldn't bring herself to say why she hadn't. Next she told him about the weekend with Catherine. As in everything. This time she didn't cry. She wasn't sure if she should be annoyed or upset or intrigued or even excited from the fact that she had felt George's lap firm up. What he said completely threw her "I can understand that after Greg you needed to work out who and what you are and what you're looking for in a partner."

The love and understanding overwhelmed her and her tears started again. He gently stroked her hair. They lost all sense of time. She was looking deep into his eyes until she could hold the gaze no more. She fell asleep. He carried her to her bedroom. Mindful of her gentle jocular rebuke about wanting to be awake next time he saw her breasts, he didn't take the cardigan off of her; only the necklace. He tucked her in and kissed her, but she was too far gone to respond.

He placed a giant glass of water on her bedside table and got ready for bed himself. Despite the unusual quantity of alcohol sleep eluded him for quite some time. He realised he hadn't felt anything like this since meeting Helen all those years ago. Could this really be happening? Was he crossing the line between 'love' and 'in love'? With someone he had thought of as his niece for all of her life?

George got up sometime after 8, more refreshed than he had expected and suffering no ill effects from the night before. He let Hannah sleep; he knew she didn't have to go to work at all today. He ate breakfast and took a cup of coffee out on the balcony. The morning was cold - almost frosty, but clear and sunny and in his great coat he didn't feel the cold. He was reading some papers from the prospective partner company. He was an old fox at this game and knew what lay behind the lyrical prose. They had tried a hostile takeover and failed. They had tried to press him out of the market by dumping the price of their own inferior product and failed. They had tried to make integration between their suite and his product more difficult - in violation of regulations on anti-competitive measures and only ending up with the real risk of an embarrassing defeat at the hands of the European Court. They had bought up one of his minor competitors but failed to integrate that product with their own portfolio - loosing overall market share in the process. They needed him now. They were at the point where their only option was to negotiate a merger on his terms. The next couple of days should be interesting.

Just before he had to leave he heard a stirring from Hannah's bedroom. She came out - still in the cardigan, looking significantly worse for wear. "Thanks for the water," she croaked, indicating the empty glass in her hand. "I need more and I need it 8 hours ago!" She went straight to the water cooler and refilled the glass.