Margaret Barker - Summer With A French Surgeon

She hesitated for a couple of seconds. She doubted very much that Bernard had extended this invitation to any of her fellow students, but his offer had been very formal. She would be foolish to try and read too much into it. Finally she smiled and nodded her agreement.

As she closed her laptop and put it back in its case she was aware of the now familiar tingling feeling running down her spine. Apprehension?

Yes, but it was something more than that, she admitted as she felt the light touch of Bernard’s arm as he ushered her out through the door.

THE Maurice Chevalier was deserted when they first arrived. Julia breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted was to seen by her fellow students socialising with their tyrannical boss. She had mixed feelings about her motivation in accepting his offer to buy her a drink. Yes, he was thawing out towards her. But would her colleagues think this was favouritism? And should she be alone with him in a social situation given the insane feelings she’d been experiencing?

Very soon a trickle of sunset worshippers gradually filled up most of the tables overlooking the sea. She folded her white cashmere sweater on her lap as she sat down and breathed in the scent of the sea and this unspoiled stretch of the coast that she loved so much.

It was turning a bit chilly now that the sun had disappeared behind a cloud so she would soon have an excuse to wear the new sweater that she’d fallen in love with when she’d been doing some last-minute panic buying in London. She didn’t usually spend so much on clothes but she’d salved her conscience by convincing herself that anything that would boost her depleted confidence was a definite asset.

‘What would you like to drink, Julia?’

‘I’ll have a Kir please, Bernard.’

He nodded before going inside to the bar, returning shortly with her crème de cassis and white wine aperitif and a pastis with ice and water for himself.

She smiled as he placed the drinks on the table. ‘Thank you. I used to come here as a child with my parents and brothers when we were on holiday. My mother used to drink Kir. I knew it was a very grown-up drink but she allowed me a small sip. I loved the taste of the blackcurrant juice mixed in with white wine. As soon as I was old enough I tried one for myself and that became my favourite aperitif in the evenings.’

‘To your grown-up Kir, Julia.’ Bernard smiled as he raised his glass to her. He thought she looked so lovely now with the sun low in the sky on her face. What an enigma she was! To think that she had performed so self-assuredly in Theatre today and yet here she was reminiscing so naively about her childhood.

She smiled back as she took her first sip. ‘Mmm! So reviving after a long day in hospital!’

‘You deserve it after your performance this morning. I was proud of you—I mean, you’re one of the students I selected from a large number of applicants who wanted a place on the course so it’s good to know you didn’t let me down.’

He hastily drank from his glass of pastis with ice, adding some water so that he wouldn’t become too exuberant. He didn’t want Julia to misinterpret his remarks. She might think he … well, he fancied her in some way. Perish the thought, he lied to himself, knowing full well that she was a most attractive woman and he’d better be careful or he might go overboard in his admiration.

But putting that aside, he told himself sharply, trying to leave his admiration out of the equation, whenever he discovered a talented student he found it very satisfying, euphoric almost! But he’d better hold back with the praise so that Julia would work hard throughout the course and not let him down. And he must also be aware that his delight in her achievements had to remain totally without emotional attachment.

Nevertheless, it was certainly true that he found himself drawn towards her in a way that a professor shouldn’t think of his student. They were both adults, yes, but he mustn’t let this attraction he felt affect his professional judgement of her during the months of hard work ahead.

He looked across the table. ‘So tell me, Julia, what made you apply for this course?’

She hesitated before answering. ‘Well … er … having survived a disastrous marriage that had been a total mistake, I felt it was time to make a fresh start and get on with my career. My family background also contributed to my decision. Mum and Dad, who’d planned to be surgeons when they were in medical school, had then taken a more practical route to become general practitioners because they fell in love, married when my eldest brother was on the way and …’

She broke off and took a deep breath. ‘Sorry, Bernard, you don’t need to know all this.’

‘Oh, but I do. It’s fascinating! Your story is similar to mine, in fact. I too come from a medical background where my parents gave up their ambitions in favour of family life. Please go on.’

She felt relieved she wasn’t boring him. ‘Well, as I told you before, GP parents and three brothers, now surgeons, meant I had to be a high achiever to get myself heard in the family. Fortunately I enjoyed studying my favourite subjects. Only when I hastily married Tony after a whirlwind courtship and found it so difficult to find the time for study did I question the sanity of becoming a surgeon.’

She leaned back against her chair, her eyes temporarily blinded by the sun low in the sky, setting behind the hillside that swooped down into the sea. She delved into her bag for her sunglasses.

‘That’s better.’

She paused to gather her thoughts. How much should she tell him? He was a good listener, seemed interested, but was he simply being polite?

‘At times I despaired of my exhausting role of wife, stepmother, medical student …’

‘So you hadn’t qualified when you married. Why didn’t you wait until …?’

‘I thought I was madly in love! I’d never been in love before and the wonderful euphoric sensations I experienced when I first met Tony swept me along. For the first time in my life I entered a world that was quite different from my own.’

Bernard looked puzzled as he watched the vibrant expressions on her face. ‘In what way was it different?’

‘Tony was a very successful man, having made enormous profits in the building and property business, proud of the fact that he’d come from a deprived background and made something of himself. Money meant everything to him. He lived and breathed doing deals, buying expensive clothes for himself, for the children and for me. He told me he’d outgrown his first wife, she was lazy, an ex-model who’d let herself go and wouldn’t keep up with his aspirations so he’d set her up in an expensive house where she could bring up their two children. He’d bought a luxurious flat in London where he could continue his wheeling and dealing.

‘I found out later that his wife had divorced him because of his womanising, realising that she was happier without him. She’d been hoping for a huge divorce settlement but she was still waiting. Of course, I didn’t know any of this when I first saw him at the opera.’

‘The opera?’

She smiled. ‘Oh, it was a business deal he was doing with a client and he clinched it by taking this man and his wife to a performance of La Bohème . Anyway, I’d gone along with a group of fellow medical students and we were queuing at the bar in the interval, trying to get a drink.

‘Tony was in front of me and put on the charm when he gathered that we were all medical students. He insisted on buying everybody a drink before whisking me off to his table and introducing me to his business friends as a young doctor. With the benefit of hindsight I know I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be swept away by an unknown man who liked to flash his cash but I was still young, impressionable, and having had a cloistered childhood this whirlwind from another exciting world seemed the epitome of sophistication.’