The Day After Tomorrow_ A Novel - Allan Folsom [50]
It was here that François Christian, then an undersecretary in the Ministry of Defense, became, among others, a frequent guest. And it was here that their relationship began. It was Francois who talked to her at length about the arts, about life and about love. And, one very special afternoon, about the direction of her studies. When she told him medicine, he was astounded.
It was true, she’d argued. Not only did she wish to become a physician, she was determined to become one, if for nothing more than a defiant promise she’d made to her father at age six around a Sunday dinner table, when her parents had been discussing suitable careers for women. Out of the blue she’d announced she was going to be a doctor. Her father had asked her if she was serious and she’d said she was. She even remembered the slight smile he’d given to her mother when he accepted Vera’s choice. The smile she’d taken as a challenge. Neither of her parents believed she could do it or would do it. Right then she determined to prove them wrong. And at that moment of resolve something had happened and a white light rose up around her and held there glowing. And though she knew no one else could see it, she felt warm and comforted and sensed a strength greater than anything she’d ever experienced. And she took it as an affirmation that her promise to her father was real and that her destiny was resolute.
And, that same afternoon, as she told her story to Francois Christian, the same glow appeared, and she told him it was there. Smiling as if he understood completely, he’d taken her hand in his and fully encouraged her to follow her dreams.
At age twenty she graduated from the University of Paris and was accepted immediately into the medical school at Montpellier, at which time her father relented and gave her his full blessing. A year later, after spending the Christmas holidays with her grandmother in Calais, Vera stopped in Paris to visit friends. For no reason, she suddenly had the idea to visit François Christian, whom she had not seen in nearly three years.
It was a lark, of course, with no purpose other than to say hello. But Francois was now leader of the French Democratic Party and a major political figure, and how to reach him through a battery of underlings she had no idea, except to go to his office and ask to be seen. To her surprise, she was shown in almost immediately.
The moment she entered the room and he rose from his desk to greet her, she’d sensed something extraordinary happening. He called for tea and they sat on a window seat overlooking the garden outside his office. He’d met her when she was sixteen; she was how almost twenty-two. In less than six years, a pert teenage girl had become a strikingly beautiful, extremely intelligent and wholly alluring young woman. If she did not believe it herself, his manner confirmed it and no matter what she did she could not take her eyes from him, nor he from her. That same evening he had brought her here to this apartment. They’d had dinner and then he’d undressed her on the couch by the fire where he now sat. Making love to him had been the most natural thing in the world. And continued to be, even as he became prime minister, for the next four years. Then Paul Osborn had come into her life, and in what seemed like only a matter of moments, everything changed.
“All right,” he said softly, turning in his chair, his eyes, as they met hers, still holding the greatest love and respect for her. “I understand.” With that he set the glass down and stood up. As he did, he looked back to her, as if to fix her image in his mind forever. For a long moment he just stood there. Then, finally, he turned and walked out.
27
* * *