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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 bed. ‘Yes, I’ve registered him at the international school just a few streets over. Khiem had sent me details about it. I’ve to take him there tomorrow—just before eight.’
‘Perfect, it has a good reputation. I’m sure he’ll like it.’
She paused once more. ‘Khiem said you’re here for six months.’
It was a statement, but she said the words like a question. He tried not to let his doubt show on his face. ‘That’s how long I’ve taken time off work back home. We needed...’ he hesitated, trying to find the right words ‘...a change of scene. Regan is due to start school back home in six months, so I plan on taking him back for that.’ He looked around, realising he hadn’t set eyes on any other staff members. ‘Does Khiem and Hoa’s son work here too?’
Lien laughed. ‘Not if he can help it. No, Duc has been lured to the dark side.’ She said the words with good humour.
‘What do you mean?’
She gave a small shrug. ‘He’s still doing his round-the-world tour. Getting experience wherever he can. He’s a surgeon. This place wouldn’t be for him.’
Now Joe was curious at the first part of her answer. ‘You said you did the same.’
She put her hand to her chest. ‘I just went to two places. That was enough. Got the experience I needed then brought it back here.’
There was something about the way she said those words. He got the impression she was either slightly exasperated by her friend’s continued travels, or that she didn’t quite approve, but was far too polite to say those words out loud.
‘You always wanted to work back here?’
She met his gaze, her brown eyes sincere. ‘This is home. I trained to be a doctor to take care of the people that I love.’ She held out her hands and gave a soft smile. ‘And the people I love are here.’
Something twisted inside his chest. She was talking about herself. He knew that. He understood it. Though he couldn’t help but feel the imaginary punch to the guts. He hadn’t been able to help the one he loved. There wasn’t anything he could have done to save Esther. He’d picked apart every element of her diagnosis and treatment a million times in the long sleepless nights after her death.
As his stomach twisted, Lien gave him a look. She glanced between him and the sleeping form of Regan. ‘Why Vietnam?’
Two words. But he knew she was asking so much more.
He swallowed, wishing the tea wasn’t quite so scalding so he could gulp it down.
He took a deep breath. He hated it that he’d got used to telling people that Esther had died, seeing their pitying glances or slight discomfort.
‘My mother chose it for us,’ he said with a rueful smile.
Her brow wrinkled. ‘What?’
He lifted one hand and ran it through his hair. A wave of tiredness had just hit him, and he really hoped that bathroom had a shower that he could hit soon. He relaxed back against the sofa. He was too tired for anything but honesty. He didn’t have the energy to dress things up.
‘My wife died three years ago. It had always been our intention to travel, to show Regan the world, and my mother...’ he gave a slow nod of his head ‘...decided we both needed a change of scene.’ He held up one hand. ‘Vietnam was one of the places on the wish list.’
‘Your wish list, or your wife’s?’ She hadn’t rushed in with an immediate offer of condolence, instead she’d asked an unexpected question.
