Doctor at Villa Ronda

by Iris Danbury

  “Never mind about Patrick now. Go on. Tell me why you stayed so long in the church, and how was it that you weren’t recognised in the car that took you there?”

  “I spoke in Catalan, which, truth to tell, I don’t speak very well, but in my black dress, the friends mistook me for one of the extra helpers we had engaged from the village, so it was natural they should give me a lift home and so I was deposited almost outside the church. Now I felt guilty and thought I should enter the church to ask forgiveness for all my black thoughts.”

  “It was not locked?”

  “No. Fr. Anselmo does not have it locked usually. Only the big door is closed. The small side one is nearly always open. It was so peaceful there, the candles burning, very quiet, and I felt all my anger melt away.”

  “Then why didn’t you come back to the Villa then?” demanded Nicola. “Didn’t you realise how anxious everyone would be, wondering what had happened to you?”

  “I think I fell asleep,” said Adrienne simply. “I heard the main door open and then Fr. Anselmo was talking to me. So I told him all that I had done. He was concerned that I had been out a whole night—or what was left of it after the party—and he promised to come and tell Sebastian the truth. As I passed the harbour Barto was just coming ashore and he offered to walk up with me.”

  “Poor Barto! You didn’t think that he might have to take most of the blame for your escapade?”

  “Why should he? Fr. Anselmo knew that he was speaking the truth. Only Sebastian disbelieved.”

  “It was a selfish prank, Adrienne,” said Nicola gently, aware that she must not sound censorious.

  “It has served its purpose, though.” Adrienne’s face was flushed with triumph. “Dona Elena will not, I think, take up her residence here.”

  “How can you be sure of that?” asked Nicola. “Both she and your uncle may feel that her supervision is all the more necessary. She has the power that I can’t have obviously.”

  “She will not have power over me,” returned Adrienne firmly.

  After a pause Nicola said, “Will you tell me your plans for today? Then I can arrange the hours when I will do the doctor’s typing work.”

  Adrienne impulsively sprang from the stool and kissed Nicola’s cheek. “You are sweet and charming, Nicola. What you really mean is that I am not to go off on wild madcap trips while you are glued to your typewriter and cannot watch me.” She laughed happily. “This I will freely promise. Today I shall busy myself in my studio and work on my pictures and you will have not the slightest cause for complaint.”

  “Thank you for that assurance. Perhaps you should also reassure your uncle. He spent a very unhappy and anxious night over your disappearance.”

  Adrienne nodded, “Yes, I will apologise to him. It is odd that when you scold me for my wrongdoing, I accept it, but Sebastian—oh, he must always play the heavy uncle and then I feel rebellious.”

  “Have you thought that it might be that he loves you very much? You’re very dear to him.”

  “Yes, he is fond of me,” Adrienne admitted. “But sometimes he tries to squeeze me into a little box and shut down the lid.”

  Nicola laughed. Adrienne’s comment was an apt description of Sebastian’s passion for orderliness. Was it because he was a doctor and had been trained to admire system? Even so, Nicola reflected, as a doctor he should understand that individuals cannot always conform to a rigid pattern.

  “Is that why he hadn’t married?” Nicola asked the daring question now because she doubted whether there would ever be a better opportunity. “Perhaps he wouldn’t like the untidiness of being in love?”

  “I think he was very unhappy in his love affair,” Adrienne answered after some hesitation. “So he has not tried again.”

  “But Dona Elena?” Nicola pursued. “Does she love him?”

  “Dona Elena has no love for anyone but herself,” Adrienne answered crisply. “But she is widowed and still young—almost young—so she is looking to Sebastian to console her. Actually, she is too old for him, but then he seems to fall in love with women older than himself.”

  “You said Dona Elena was only about his age.”

  “Of course, but women are always older than men at the same age. That is why we should marry men older, much older than ourselves, and young wives can, if they are clever, keep their men always at the end of the string.”

  Nicola flung herself back in her chair and laughed. “Oh, Adrienne! Sometimes I think you’re seventy, not seventeen. You’re so worldly-wise that you make me feel like a small child completely ignorant of what makes people tick.”

  Ramon called later, having already heard that Adrienne was home, and Nicola heard him greet her with both endearments and scolding. “Querida!” he murmured tenderly, then changed his tone of voice to give her a severe lecture.

  Nicola wondered if Ramon really loved Adrienne or only thought of her as a highly suitable match. She was certain that Adrienne did not love him, and it was a pity that she was apparently to be married to him before she had time to discover a more exciting rapture.

  Sebastian had gone this morning to his clinic in the village, so Nicola absorbed herself in further chapters of his book. Yet her concentration was not entirely whole, for stray thoughts came into her mind unconnected with medical subjects. She remembered Adrienne’s remark that Sebastian had suffered an unhappy love affair and that he always seemed to like women older than himself. She remembered, too, that photograph which she had seen on his desk, a portrait of a woman. Was that why he had become so withdrawn, so remote from the warmth of ordinary, companionable life? What of the woman? Had she jilted him? Married someone else?

  Nicola scolded herself for wasting time on these trivial reflections. Her job was to make sense of what Sebastian had written about the medical aspect of hearts and their maladies, not what might be right or wrong with hearts in the more figurative sense.

  Ramon stayed for lunch, but neither Sebastian nor Dona Elena appeared.

  “Sebastian is probably delayed at the clinic,” Ramon suggested. “I know there was a small explosion on one of the fishing boats and two or three men were injured.”

  “Has Dona Elena gone home?” asked Adrienne.

  Ramon looked slightly embarrassed. “Well, it is rather awkward. She has shut our house, and sent the staff on holiday, except for Pedro who will act as caretaker. I am on the Clorinda, of course, and she can come there, but she does not care for living on the yacht unless we are sailing somewhere. So I think we’d better advance our plans for San Fernando. Then she will be at home in our house there.”

  Adrienne looked down at her plate. “Very well, Ramon. When do you suggest?”

  “The day after tomorrow, perhaps.” His amiable glance swerved towards Nicola. “Can you also be ready by then, Nicola?”

  She flushed. “I could, of course, be ready, but I shall have to ask permission from Dr. Montal.”

  “But naturally you must come with us,” urged Adrienne. “Sebastian is planning to come, so you need not fear his work will be at a standstill.” She laughed happily. “Indeed, perhaps we can persuade him to bring the typewriter and then you can clack away in one of the yacht’s cabins.”

  But Nicola was cautious, remembering Dona Elena’s warning. Even so, it would be Sebastian who would decide the matter and certainly not Elena.

  If the rest of the party went off to San Fernando for a week or two Nicola considered that she could use some of her free time for visits to Barcelona and a further search for Lisa. She might even this time contact the Guardia Civil or the British Embassy. She had previously hesitated to take these steps for fear of unwelcome publicity that might involve the Montals, but now she knew she must act more directly.

  When Sebastian returned early in the evening he had recovered some of his normal reserve. He discussed the various queries in Nicola’s work, made some amendments here and there. Everything was all strictly businesslike, and Nicola was glad, for his cool attitude helped h
er to fight down that surging delight when she was alone with him.

  But a casual remark from Adrienne after dinner upset all Nicola’s calculated poise.

  “But I couldn’t possibly leave my work at the hospitals and the clinic and go to San Fernando now,” Sebastian said.

  “You promised to come,” Adrienne pointed out.

  “Yes, but not tomorrow or the next day. I need time to arrange matters with my colleagues. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t go with Ramon.”

  “And Dona Elena?” queried Adrienne stormily.

  “Naturally. Obviously you cannot stay in Ramon’s house in San Fernando unless Dona Elena is also there.”

  At that moment Sebastian was called to the telephone. “I don’t know whether I now wish to go on the yacht to San Fernando or anywhere else at all,” muttered Adrienne.

  Nicola murmured something vague in reply, but her whole mind was engaged with the entrancing vista ahead. To remain with Sebastian at the Villa while all the warring elements cruised the Mediterranean was a heavenly prospect.

  Sebastian did not return to the terrace to rejoin the two girls, and later Nicola found out that he had been called urgently to attend to one of the men injured in the fishing boat explosion.

  “The man is in great pain and Sebastian must get him to a hospital quickly,” Adrienne explained. “Well, we must wait until tomorrow to tackle the visit to San Fernando. Without Sebastian to keep Elena in her place I shall be miserable.”

  Nicola said nothing, hoping that her silence would indicate that she sympathised with Adrienne’s point of view.

  Next day added a completely different aspect to the project. Nicola took the opportunity to ask Sebastian if she might have an odd day or two off whenever it fitted in with his plans.

  “You’ll probably not need me to work the whole of every day and I could try to make more enquiries in Barcelona for my sister.”

  Sebastian stared at her. “But you won’t be here. I thought it was understood that you were going to San Fernando with the others.” He smiled. “In Adrienne’s present state of mind you’ll certainly be needed to keep the peace between her and Dona Elena.”

  “Senor Ventallo invited me, but I couldn’t accept unless you knew it.”

  “But you assumed that I would prevent you? Don’t you want to go on this fine yacht and visit Ramon’s beautiful house? It will be a holiday for you—nothing to do except cast an occasional glance on Adrienne and possibly exchange messages between her and Dona Elena.”

  “Yes, I’d like to go,” she said.

  “But?” he prompted. “What’s the obstacle? The young Englishman in Barcelona?”

  “Certainly not!”

  Sebastian laughed. “You are very quick to protest. Reassure him that you will not be away too long. No doubt he can survive a fortnight or so.”

  “Patrick is only a friend—and—and he’s not concerned in whether I’m away or not.”

  Sebastian’s eyebrows lifted and she thought then that it was extraordinary how his whole face could betray amusement, yet his mouth did not smile, but remained the firm stern line it usually was.

  “Really? At the beach party he seemed very closely concerned with you. You were so locked in each other’s arms that you were unaware of passers-by.”

  She flushed with fury that he had witnessed that incident. “Oh, I didn’t know you’d seen us.”

  “You are really longing to say that I spied on you. All Montals spy on each other, but I did not deliberately do so in this case. I was looking for you, but then I realised that I had better leave you where you were—in safe company.”

  She remained silent, fearing to give him any more excuses for linking her with Patrick.

  Then he spoke again. “Do you want any more money? To shop in Barcelona for clothes—or whatever you need—for San Fernando?”

  She was touched by his thoughtfulness, then wondered if he had noticed how few clothes she possessed in spite of an extremely generous salary.

  “It’s very kind of you. I have enough money for the time being, but I’d like to go to Barcelona today and buy one or two things.”

  “Of course. Ignacio will take you and then you can tell him what time you would like him to bring you back.”

  “I’ll come back by train,” she said quickly. She had reasons for not wanting to be tied to a return time.

  She asked Ignacio to drop her at the Plaza de Cataluna in Barcelona. From that vast square with its twin fountains she knew her bearings and could visit the Paseo de Gracia with its elegant shops, or equally the small side streets off the Ramblas where less expensive clothes could be bought.

  But first she had to visit the lawyer’s office to pay the monthly instalment against Lisa’s debts. If she were going to be in San Fernando for a fortnight or even longer, payment might be delayed and until now she had made a special point of paying cash at a personal call. She did not want letters from lawyers arriving at the Villa Ronda.

  “You are a young lady of good method,” the lawyer congratulated her, as he gave her the receipt.

  “I’ve been lucky to get a well-paid job,” she answered. “Soon I shall have finished all the payments.”

  She bought a couple of dresses in a small shop then went to a cafe on the edge of the Plaza Real, an enchanting little square she had discovered one day by accident. Tall feather-duster palms soared over an ornate fountain and the surrounding buildings shut out the noise of traffic.

  At the cafe Nicola wrote a note to Patrick, telling him that she would be in San Fernando for the next week or two with the Montals. She thought it unwise to add that she was travelling on Ramon’s yacht, or else Patrick would tease her next time they met about “living it up.”

  She pondered as to what else she could say to him after that scene at the beach party. She did not want to encourage him to expect more than an ordinarily friendly relationship, yet at the same time it would be stupid to break with the only other English person she knew here.

  Out in the streets today there was an air of impending gaiety. Illuminations, decorations of all sorts, clusters of fireworks were being erected. She asked the waiter what fiesta was coming along. “The Eve of St. John,” she was told—celebrations to greet the following day, Midsummer.

  A pity she would miss it, she thought. She would have liked to sample a real Barcelona fiesta, but no doubt there would be other excitements in San Fernando.

  On arrival back at the Villa Ronda she found that plans had been changed yet again.

  “To sail tomorrow proved too hasty for Ramon with the yacht,” Adrienne explained. “And we also have our own preparations. Then we remembered the fiesta in Barcelona tomorrow for San Juan, so we shall take you there to show you the festival.”

  Nicola was delighted. “I’m glad I shan’t miss it,” she said. “I saw them putting up strings of lights in the streets.”

  She was about to go to her room to dress for dinner when Inez, Adrienne’s maid, told her that Dona Elena would like to see her.

  “Where is Dona Elena?” asked Nicola.

  “In the salon.”

  Mystified, Nicola entered that vast apartment which seemed so rarely used, at least in summer. Portraits of Montal ancestors frowned from the walls. Certainly Sebastian had no monopoly of arrogant reserve when it came to facial expression.

  Dona Elena was at the far end of the room and Nicola’s heels tapped on the marble floor.

  “I wanted to see you,” Elena began graciously, “to invite you to join us on our visit to San Fernando.”

  Nicola’s mind, for once, worked quickly. Evidently Elena did not know that she was already included.

  “But you told me that I was on no account to accept such an invitation,” Nicola said politely.

  Dona Elena made a graceful gesture of her shoulders. “That was before all our plans had been properly made.”

  “And now you want me to come on the yacht?” queried Nicola.

  “You are paid t
o be Adrienne’s companion.” Elena never missed a chance of reminding Nicola that she was only a paid servant in the Montal household.

  “May I enquire if you intend to accompany us?” Nicola asked.

  “Naturally. I do not consider you suitable to be chaperone to Adrienne on the Clorinda, although I would prefer to fly. However, I am always willing to sacrifice my personal wishes in these matters.”

  “Then if you are accompanying Adrienne, there is no necessity for me to go as well.”

  For a brief moment Elena was put out of countenance, but she quickly recovered and gave Nicola a charming smile.

  “If Adrienne wants you with her, then you cannot speak of ‘necessity’. Besides, it will be a good holiday for you.”

  “Thank you, Dona Elena. I am paid, as you say, by Dr. Montal, so I will accept his instructions, but I am glad to know that I shall be welcome aboard the Clorinda and in your house.” Nicola smiled disarmingly but Elena did not respond this time.

  “That is all,” Elena said, dismissing Nicola with a gesture.

  In her room where the gilded mirrors gave so many reflections of oneself, Nicola smiled and hummed a little tune.

  Dona Elena had apparently belatedly discovered that Sebastian was staying at the Villa and of course it would never do to leave the young English girl with him in the same house, alone except for a half a dozen servants.

  Dona Elena stayed to dinner and although it seemed as though a truce had been called between herself and Adrienne, she gave Nicola some penetrating glances.

  Afterwards when Adrienne and Nicola were alone, Adrienne giggled softly. “Dona Elena is furious because we are leaving Sebastian behind. Oh, she imagined a wonderful time with him, sitting holding his hand, no doubt, under the stars!”