Not Once But Twice

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?’