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He switched to French. ‘Do you have a liking for languages? Are you a quick student?’
She answered him in rather hesitant but correct French. ‘Yes, I think so, but how would I manage while I was learning?’
‘Everyone speaks English, especially in the hospitals, and almost all the medical terms are the same, only pronounced differently. You would get help.’
‘I think I might like it very much.’
He was speaking German now. ‘And I think you would do very well, Chrissy. Will you do it? I would like you to come very much.’ His blue eyes sparkled and she smiled back at him.
‘I’ll think about it,’ she told him in German.
‘And not too long.’ They were speaking English now. ‘It will be necessary for my partner—he’s my brother, and the senior and Directeur of the hospital—to agree.’
‘Oh, is he likely to object?’
Adam laughed. ‘Not at all likely. He objects almost never—he is a calm man, so calm that sometimes one does not know what he is really thinking about, but I have no doubt that he will be glad to have you on the hospital staff. I shall be going to den Haag this weekend, I’ll talk to him about it and let you know when I get back.’
She felt breathless. ‘Yes, well—it does sound rather super.’
‘Then that’s settled. I shall be back in Holland in a few weeks now, but we’ll see plenty of each other then, darling.’
Christina’s cheeks pinkened, but she said with composure: ‘Will you tell me something about Holland?’ And while he talked she watched him, unable to take her eyes from his face. She was behaving like a teenage idiot, she admonished herself as they drove back, and she was enjoying it. And when Adam kissed her goodnight at her brother’s door, she enjoyed that too.
CHAPTER TWO
THERE WERE three days until the weekend and Adam had said that he would return on the Monday, but Christina didn’t allow herself to get excited. She went steadily about her work, and if in the solitude of her room she spent rather longer than usual doing things to her face and trying out different hair-styles that was her business and no one else’s.
She remained calm, outwardly at least, when Monday came and went and there was no sign of Adam. She reminded herself of all the very good reasons why he hadn’t come and went home on the Tuesday evening, telling herself that he would be there when she arrived, or telephone or even write…
He had done none of these things. Moreover, Hilary was there, making it plain that Christina was making a quite unnecessary third, hinting plainly that there was a splendid film on at the Odeon and wouldn’t she like to see it.
‘Funny you should have said that,’ said Christina in a bright voice. ‘I’m meeting some of the others in an hour, we’re going to eat first, there’s just time before the second house.’
So she went to her room and changed, wished them a pleasant evening and left the house. The last thing she wanted to do; she was tired and depressed and hungry, and worst of all, supposing Adam came while she was out? She took a bus to Tottenham Court Road and sat through a film she wasn’t in the least interested in, eating a packet of sandwiches in the dark, because she hated going into cafés by herself.
She could hear voices from the sitting room as she let herself in later, so she shut the door loudly enough for them to hear her and then went in. George Henry and Hilary were sitting side by side looking at patterns of curtain material; obviously there had been no visitors. Christina said she’d had a lovely evening, wished them goodnight and whisked herself out of the room to make herself a pot of tea and carry it up to her room, together with the remains of a macaroni cheese from the fridge. It was quite late by now and it seemed rather a waste to fuss over her face and hair, because Adam wasn’t coming. Probably the senior partner had overruled him, probably too he himself had thought better of it. Life, she reflected, was full of small disappointments, but it didn’t do to grieve over them. She got into bed and went to sleep almost at once.
She wasn’t on until ten o’clock the next morning, which gave her time to rush out and do some household shopping before she went on duty. She had two days off, starting on the next day, and she occupied herself in deciding what to do. Usually she had spent a good part of them at home, keeping George Henry company at meals and quite often going out in the evening if he was free, but now he had Hilary… A day’s shopping, she thought; something new would be good for her and she could lunch at one of the big stores. She hadn’t been to Harrods for a long time; she could spend the afternoon there and have tea, and since Beryl’s steady had gone to Scotland for a week, she might spend the evening with her. There was another day to plan, of course, but that would do for the present.
The day seemed endless. The ward was full and several patients were very ill, so it was long after eight o’clock when she got off duty. She had to wait for a bus too and it had begun to rain a little as she walked the last stage of her journey. As she put her key in the door she thanked heaven that Hilary had gone to see her parents in Highgate. George Henry would have had his supper long since; she would boil herself an egg and would spend half an hour with him. She closed the door behind her and crossed the hall to the study; the vague murmur of voices would be the television—George Henry had the habit of switching it on and then walking away and forgetting all about it. She opened the door and went in.
Adam was there; she didn’t see anyone or anything else for a few moments. Her face lighted up with her delight and she cried ‘Adam, I thought you weren’t coming…’ before she realised that besides him and George Henry there was someone else in the room.
He had risen to his feet as she paused at the door, a tall man, taller than Adam and, unlike him, heavily built. He had the same handsome face, but his mouth was firm and his nose high-bridged; moreover, although his eyes were blue, they were pale and very clear. Christina wasn’t sure about his hair; it was so fair that it could have been grey or just flaxen. He wasn’t all that young either, in his thirties, and dressed with a conservative good taste very much in contrast to Adam’s rather flamboyant clothes. She had the instant impression of quietness before George Henry spoke.
‘Chrissy, how late you are. Adam has brought his brother to visit us to see you, actually.’ He frowned a little. ‘You didn’t tell me you were considering taking a post in Holland.’
She smiled at him. ‘Well, love, it seemed a bit silly to say anything before I knew more about it.’
She shook hands with Adam and turned to the other man. ‘This is Duert—I told him about you, and he decided he might as well come back with me and see you.’ Adam was still holding her hand and she pulled it away gently, to be engulfed in a very large firm one.
‘So much more satisfactory than writing letters and filling in forms.’ His voice was deep and pleasant and he had a nice smile. He was looking at her in what she considered to be a vague fashion. ‘I’m sorry we didn’t give you a reasonable warning that we were coming perhaps we might meet and discuss this matter of a job?’
His straight eyebrows rose in faint query and she answered seriously: ‘Of course. I have a free day tomorrow.’
‘We can have lunch,’ interposed Adam. ‘I’ll be free for a couple of hours.’
‘Then perhaps you could spare me an hour in the afternoon?’
Christina gave him a long calm look. ‘You mean there’s a chance of me getting a job at the hospital?’
‘There is a strong possibility, but we do need to talk about it.’ He gave her a lazy smile, friendly enough but not very interested. And she could hardly blame him; she must look pretty awful with damp hair and her face still wet from the rain. She said formally, ‘That would suit me very well, Dr ter Brandt, if you would tell me where I am to meet you.’
‘Oh, I’ll pick you up directly after you’ve lunched with Adam.’
George Henry had been sitting back listening. Now he said: ‘You’re sure you want this, Chrissy? It’s not just because Hilary and I are getting married? You said that you had the chance of a bedsitter or a room at St Athud’s…’
‘Oh, yes, I know,’ she answered him with her usual calm air, ‘but you see I wasn’t sure, it was only a suggestion on Adam’s part, but I really want to go, George Henry. A change will do me good—I’m getting in a rut.’
The three men looked at her, her brother with surprise because she had never before even hinted that she was dissatisfied with her job, Adam with lighthearted amusement, and Duert ter Brandt with a bland face and thoughtful eyes.
It was he who broke the silence with a casual: ‘Well, we’ll talk about it tomorrow, shall we?’
He held out a hand. ‘I hope we haven’t trespassed for too long upon your leisure. Goodnight, Miss Forbes.’ He shook hands with George Henry too and Christina barely had the time to say goodbye to Adam before they went. Duert ter Brandt could at least have given them the chance to talk for a few minutes, instead of which he swept Adam out of the house with an authority, which although not apparent was nonetheless very real.
After they had gone she remembered that Adam hadn’t told her where and when they were to meet for lunch. She was still digesting this when George Henry observed: ‘I like him—Adam’s brother, a nice unassuming chap.’
She answered him tartly: ‘A bit too suave for me, but I’m not likely to see much of him if I get the job. He’s the hospital director and presumably he does his directing from some office or other.’
George Henry fiddled with a pen lying on his desk. ‘Have you any details of the job? The ward you’ll be on, off duty, salary and so on?’
‘None at all. Adam told me that there were vacancies at the hospital and that I might suit, but it was for Dr ter Brandt to decide. He wanted to know if I could speak French or German and he seemed quite satisfied with my efforts. It was really to see if I had any aptitude for languages, I think it seems you’re given a crash course in Dutch.’
Her brother frowned. ‘You really want to go, Chrissy?’
She turned an eager face to his. ‘Oh, George Henry, yes!’
She was aware that her enthusiasm was largely due to the likelihood of seeing Adam again, and quite often too. She told herself sternly that she would have to be sensible about that, but that didn’t prevent her, when she was getting ready for bed, from taking a long look at her face, close up to the dressing table looking-glass and with a bright light showing it up. Her eyes were all right, but the rest of her was mediocre; she had a creamy unblemished skin, but she didn’t consider that that helped at all—and her teeth were good, but she couldn’t be expected to smile all the time. Her nose was unimportant and her mouth was wide and her hair, inclined to curl if left to itself, had been pulled back severely for so long now that it had grown like it. She peered anxiously at herself and wondered what Adam saw in her, if indeed he saw anything at all. But he had squeezed her fingers when they had shaken hands and smiled at her in a way to make her wonder if he liked her a little. Perhaps she would know tomorrow.
‘Well, what do you think of her?’ asked Adam as he drove the BMW too fast away from the dull streets towards the West End.
His brother said slowly: ‘She seems a sensible young woman.’
Adam laughed, ‘And plain with it, but the most gorgeous eyes—but perhaps you didn’t notice them. I bet she’s never been chatted up in her life—and she’s not so young either. Very rewarding material to work on.’
Dr ter Brandt said evenly: ‘Do not make the mistake of thinking that she is like the rest of your girlfriends, Adam. She is unsophisticated, I grant you; she is also calm and matter-of-fact. Moreover, I have it from her brother that she is a very capable Ward Sister and thought highly of at the hospital. As you so ungallantly point out, she is neither very young nor pretty, and definitely not your cup of tea.’ He added, still without heat: ‘I think you should leave her alone.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, Duert, I haven’t got designs on the girl, but she doesn’t seem to have had much fun. A few dinners and an occasional evening out will do her the world of good. You’ll consider her for a job?’
‘Yes, I think I may. It rather depends on what experience she’s had in the Accident Room and surgery.’ The big man heaved his bulk out of the car as Adam stopped in front of Brown’s Hotel and then turned to ask: ‘Where are you taking her to lunch?’
‘Oh, a little Greek place in Soho—’ Adam gave its name and at the look of surprise on his brother’s face added testily: ‘Well, she’s not used to the Ritz or Claridge’s, she might feel awkward.’ He looked away from the pale blue eyes staring at him so steadily. ‘What time will you meet us?’
‘I will be there at half past two. I think I may go back in the evening so see that you’re punctual. What time do your afternoon lectures start?’
‘A quarter to three.’ Adam sounded sulky.
‘In that case you had better be outside this place by two-fifteen.’
Dr ter Brandt turned on his heel and went into the hotel without looking back.
Adam telephoned quite early the following morning so that Christina had plenty of time in which to decide what she should wear. None of her clothes were very exciting, although they were good and in excellent taste. It was cool and cloudy so that she felt justified in wearing the suit she had bought only a few weeks earlier. It was grey flannel with a pleated skirt and a neat little jacket and she had a silk blouse in a pale silvery grey to go with it. She dressed with care, made sure that George Henry’s lunch was ready for him, and left the house. Adam had said he couldn’t fetch her, so she took a bus to Oxford Street and then walked the rest of the way through the crowded Soho streets.
The restaurant was small and faintly shabby as to paint, but it had tubs of flowers each side of the door and the net curtains at the windows were a pristine white. She was aware of a vague disappointment and the thought shot through her head that she need not have put on her new suit; she felt overdressed, what with the silk blouse and the patent leather shoes and handbag, when as far as she could see every other girl in sight was wearing jeans or some long flowing garment with a lot of bracelets.
But she forgot all that as Adam crossed the pavement to meet her and took her arm. ‘What a punctual girl!’ he greeted her. ‘I was afraid you might be late, girls so often are—and I have to be gone again by a quarter past two.’ He saw the look of doubt on her face and added: ‘Oh, it’s all right, Duert will be here to collect you and put you through your paces.’
They had gone inside and been given a little table at the back of the little restaurant, and when Christina put her hands on the table, Adam had covered them with his own so that all the questions she was going to ask him flew out of her head. All the same, she didn’t allow herself to get carried away, although her heart was thundering in her ears. After a moment she gently withdrew her hands and looked around her. The place was a lot nicer inside than it was outside, she decided, and the waiter who served them was quick and attentive. She chose a fish salad and a fresh fruit salad and drank the wine she was offered without knowing what it was.
Adam didn’t talk about the possibility of her getting a job, only discussed in a charming if vague fashion the various places he intended to take her to once she was in Holland. She was too sensible to believe quite all he said, although she would have liked to, but even if they only did half the things he was enthusing about, the future seemed to her to be an enchantment not to be missed. The time slid away too quickly and it was Adam who looked at his watch and said: ‘Oh, lord—it’s time we went.’
She put down her coffee cup in an unflurried manner. ‘Very well. I’m going to powder my nose.’
‘Must you?’ He sounded irritable, but at her look of surprise he said: ‘Sorry—I didn’t mean to snap, but don’t be too long, will you?’
The wine had flushed her cheeks a little, but otherwise she looked as well groomed as when she had left home that morning. She poked at her hair, put on more lipstick and rejoined Adam.
Dr Duert ter Brandt was standing on the edge of the pavement outside, his back to the restaurant. It was a very large back and very straight in its beautifully tailored jacket. He must have had eyes at the back of his head, for he turned round before they reached him, wished her a friendly good afternoon, said something in a soft voice to Adam and lifted his hand at a passing taxi. Once more barely given time to say more than goodbye to Adam, Christina found herself sitting back beside Dr ter Brandt.
‘I thought that we might walk in Green Park,’ his voice was quiet and slow after Adam’s quick, accented English. ‘You understand that there are a number of questions I must ask you? And if we are both satisfied I shall require references.’
She said yes a little breathlessly; funny to think that only a few days ago she had been contemplating a dull future in a bedsitter. But she hadn’t got the job yet.
It was pleasant in the park; they strolled through its comparative peace while the doctor asked questions. A great many questions, thought Christina, answering them in her sensible manner, giving him facts and taking care not to boast or pretend about anything.
‘And surgery?’ he wanted to know.
‘Not for the last two years, I’m afraid. I had the Women’s Surgical Ward for two years before I got my present post, and before that I was in Casualty and the Accident Room, a year as Second Sister and previous to that about a year as a staff nurse.’
‘You like accident work?’
‘Yes, very much. I should have liked to have stayed on there, but I was advised that I should get all-round experience. I haven’t been at St Athud’s all the time, you know. I came to London when my parents died and took the job I have got now. Before then I was living near Yeovil. I worked at the hospital there, but I trained at Bart’s.’
They had stopped to watch an old man feeding the birds and presently Dr ter Brandt said: ‘The post I have to offer you is that of Third Sister in the Accident Department at the Theofilus Hospital. We operate three shifts in the twenty-four hours, and you would be expected to work each shift in turn. You would have two days off each week, six weeks’ holiday in the year and for the first few months at least, attend classes in Dutch. You may live in the hospital if you wish or rent rooms or a flat close by.’ He mentioned a salary which, changed into English money, seemed generous.
‘But perhaps the cost of living is higher?’ asked Christina, sensibly.
‘About the same, I think.’
She said composedly: ‘I may apply for the post?’
‘Yes. I have an application form with me, which we will fill in presently. The post is vacant now, but of course you will have to resign—a month, I take it?’
The old man had gone and so had the birds. A cool wind rustled the trees around them and a few leaves fluttered on to the grass. Christina said in her sensible way: ‘I have more than two weeks’ holiday due to me, which means that I can leave in about ten days’ time.’
‘That would suit us very well.’ He paused and added thoughtfully: ‘But of course you would like to stay here until your brother’s marriage?’
‘No.’ Her voice was level and quiet. ‘That doesn’t matter. I should explain that my brother and I are very fond of each other and we get on very well. I’m delighted that he’s marrying, but his fiancée and I—well, we don’t get on very well. I think it might be easier for all of us if I’m not at the wedding.’ She added slowly, ‘We haven’t quarrelled or anything like that, but George Henry feels a bit mean because I’m having to find somewhere else to live and it would be a good thing if I’m not there to remind him…’
The doctor’s smile was kind. ‘I’m sorry, but thank you for telling me; I’m sure it’s a sensible solution. These unfortunate occasions do arise, but I’ve found that time does much to improve them.’
‘That’s what I thought. By the time I get back to England it will be forgotten.’ They had been strolling along, but now she stopped. ‘I’ve taken up your afternoon, Dr ter Brandt. If there’s nothing more I need to know, I’ll say goodbye. I’m sure I can manage the form and I’ll get the references and send them on to you.’
For answer he took her arm. ‘A cup of tea, I think, and we can fill in the form at the same time.’
He walked her back across the park and into Piccadilly, crossed the street and ushered her through the splendid entrance of the Ritz. ‘Tea here?’ she asked uncertainly.
‘It’s the nicest place I know of for tea,’ he told her as they were led to a table by the window.
Christina had gone past the hotel many times since she had been in London, but never been inside. It was splendid and elegant and everything she had imagined it would be, and she was glad that she was wearing the grey suit; there wasn’t a pair of denims in sight, the atmosphere was peaceful and restful, and having taken it all in she said forthrightly: ‘This is delightful. I’ve often wondered what it was like inside, and now I know.’
And when the tea came she poured it with a dignified self-assurance which gave the lie to Adam’s theory that she might feel ill at ease in such plushy surroundings. The doctor, plying her with wafer-thin cucumber sandwiches, little iced cakes and tiny meringues, looked at her with approval. She was no fool, this rather plain girl with the lovely eyes; she had a delightful voice and nice manners and a sensible head on her shoulders. And he liked the way she dressed too. She had a good figure and small, well kept hands. After a time, he mused, one forgot her lack of looks and probably, given enough incentive, she could improve on those.
He had an uneasy feeling that Adam was going to provide that incentive, and although, as he had said before, she seemed capable of looking after herself, she was too honest and nice a girl to be hurt. Of course, Adam might be serious about her; she was so very different from the usual kind of girl he fell in love with, it might be possible. Time would tell.
He asked casually: ‘Are you meeting Adam this evening, Christina?’
She shook her head. ‘No, he’s got a lecture and he had to catch up on something he missed—and tomorrow he has a study day at Birmingham.’
The doctor sat back, his eyes on her face. ‘I have to stay in London until tomorrow evening. Perhaps we might have lunch together, then if there are any snags or problems we can sort them out.’
‘Thank you, I should like that.’ Her gaze met his and she smiled. ‘Should I fill in that form?’
They did it together, laughing a little while Christina tried to remember dates and how tall she was and the exact date upon which she had started her training. It was finished at last and she was surprised to find that they had been sitting over their tea for more than an hour. And she had enjoyed herself; her companion had turned out to be nicer than she had expected; rather reserved, perhaps, but he must be a good deal older than Adam. He would be comfortably married, of course; she had taken that for granted. She would have like to have asked him if he had any children, but she had already formed the impression that his private life was very much his own business.
They took a taxi back to George Henry’s house after that, but the doctor, politely opening the door for her, refused her invitation to come in, pleading an evening engagement and wishing her a pleasantly impersonal goodbye as he went. Christina stood in the hall, listening to the coughs and murmurs coming from the waiting room, already stuffed with the evening surgery patients. She felt as though a door, briefly opened on to another world, had been gently but inexorably closed again.
‘It’s not my world anyway,’ she reminded herself sensibly, and went upstairs to change the grey suit for a skirt and jumper and then went along to the kitchen to see about supper.
Hilary came that evening and displayed an unflattering amazement that anyone should want to take Christina to the Ritz for tea. She said, her rather prominent blue eyes narrowed: ‘Well, really, whatever next? Was he trying to impress you?’
Christina considered the question. ‘No—he’s not that kind of man. I think it was because the Ritz was close by and it was tea time and I had to fill in a form. We had to have a table, you see.’
Hilary gave her a suspicious glance, but Christina appeared to be serious, so she gave a reluctant nod. ‘Dead set on this job, aren’t you? Supposing you hate it when you’re there?’
Christina allowed herself a silent giggle. Hilary’s face showed very plainly that she wished she hadn’t said that; supposing Christina said that she would return home and expect to live with her and George Henry until she found another job to suit her? She said gently: ‘Well, you know, Hilary, I’m a bit slow about making up my mind about places and people—other people know within seconds if they like something or someone, but not me.’ She remembered very clearly that she had known within a second that she liked Adam, but of course there was always the exception to every rule… ‘I shall enjoy the experience,’ she finished.
Hilary agreed with eager enthusiasm and hardly concealed her pleasure when Christina mentioned that it wasn’t likely that she would be at the wedding. George Henry, Christina decided, must be very in love not to notice, but that was a good thing. She was a firm believer in love, herself unloved.
