The Surgeon Was a Lady Read online

  Title Page

  THE SURGEON WAS A LADY

  By

  Paul Kelly

  Publisher Information

  The Surgeon Was a Lady published in 2012

  By Andrews UK Limited

  www.andrewsuk.com

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright © Paul Kelly 2012

  The right of Paul Kelly to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Chapter One

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to wait so long, Mrs. Fehrenbach, the professor has been unavoidably delayed, but he is free to see you now. Will you come this way please?”

  Willie followed the young receptionist into the psychiatrist’s consulting room, removing her tight fitting gloves as she went and tucking them into the outer pocket of her handbag for a moment before pulling them out again and shoving her hands into them.

  “Rather cold this morning, don’t you think?” the receptionist added as she watched the client’s reaction and closed the door behind her to leave Willie with the psychiatrist, but it was not the cold that had made her put her gloves on again during the twenty minutes or so she had to wait... it was a sheer nervous reaction... a feeling of sterile precaution to what she was about to undergo...

  “Good morning, Mrs. Fehrenbach. So pleased to see you and I’m sorry for the delay. Some of my patients will not go away when I have completed the consultation, you know... and I’m sure it has nothing to do with my popularity,” Edward Sutherland laughed as he made his last remark...

  Willie smiled and assured him that she understood and that there had been no inconvenience...

  “That is most kind of you... Now will you please sit down... here, beside me if you don’t mind... and can I offer you some tea... or coffee perhaps?”

  Willie sat down but declined the offer of refreshments as she crossed her legs and unbuttoned her full length coat.

  “Oh allow me please. I had forgotten how warm it is in here with the central heating. It is so cold outside,” he said as he took Willie’s coat and hung it on a large oak stand near the door.

  “Now, Mrs. oh may I call you by your Christian name please?”

  She smiled again; a rather weak attempt this time.

  “Yes of course... My name is Wilhelmina, but everybody calls me Willie,” she replied softly and the psychiatrist raised his eyebrows.

  “What an unusual name... Not at all like mine... I’m plain Edward Sutherland... Ted to my friends. Would you like to call me Ted?”

  She nodded and smiled again, feeling that her face muscles had got fixed... It was the last thing she felt like doing... smiling to anyone, but he was trying to be kind... even if she wished he would get on with it...

  “You are of German extraction, I understand,” he said, glancing through some papers on his desk and pressing the button on his tape recorder.

  “Austrian... not German,” she emphasized.

  “Married... of course... Mrs. er... Willie.”

  Yes she thought, but not ‘of course’... as she answered his question.

  “For the past seven years,” she said softly.

  “Seven, did you say?”

  “Yes, seven...”

  He smiled broadly and studied his tape recorder to ensure that it was working properly.

  “May I ask your date of birth?”

  Willie sighed and her breath came in short spasms.

  “I was born in 1962. November 3rd, I am thirty,” she said,

  “Are you a housewife, Willie?”

  She looked away from him and stared out of the window.

  “No, like you Ted... I am in the medical profession.”

  Again he raised his eyebrows and tried to straighten the strands of hair that ran vertically across his bald pate...

  “A doctor?” he enquired enthusiastically.

  “A surgeon,” she answered. “I followed my father’s profession. He was also a surgeon in our home town of Innsbruck.

  “And you studied in Austria?”

  “Yes... firstly in Vienna and then in Linz.”

  “Very interesting... I don’t think I have actually met a lady surgeon before. I am privileged,” he gushed and Willie blushed a little, but she couldn’t understand why, as she was used to such like comments from her peers. Perhaps it was just that Ted Sutherland seemed a little more genuine than the rest... or maybe, she thought she was getting more used to the flattery and it didn’t affect her any more. Whatever the reason, she brushed the compliment off half heartedly.

  “It is not so uncommon nowadays. Women it seems are getting into all the professions,” she added and looked at Ted Sutherland to see if he approved of her attitude or not but he gave no indication of his personal views from his demeanour as he carried on scribbling some notes on a pad and looking at his recorder.

  “You speak English very well, but I suppose you have been told that many times?” he said as she coughed lightly and excused herself.

  “My husband is English, but don’t be put off by the surname. His parents were German and they came to England shortly after the war.”

  Sutherland nodded and rubbed the end of his nose with his forefinger.

  “Have you any brothers or sisters, Willie?”

  “No... I am an only child. I think that is the reason why I was so spoiled at home and also why I followed my father’s footsteps so closely. I... Oh I’m sorry, I do tend to go on a bit when I talk about my father. Sorry.”

  “No please... Do go on.”

  “Oh, it is just that we got on so well together... Not so with my mother, I’m afraid. I adored him and admired the work he did from a very early age.”

  Ted Sutherland nodded, but said nothing until he had made a few more notes.

  “This is your first visit here, of course,” he said without looking up from his desk, “Have you been to a psychiatrist before?” Willie shook her head and looked at her finger nails as he continued to speak. “Now would you like to tell me, in your own words, of course, how you think I can help you?” he went on and Willie bit her lip as she glanced at the ceiling.

  “If only it were so simple, Mr. Suth... sorry, Ted.”

  He smiled and settled himself more comfortably into his large red leather chair, swinging lightly to the left of his desk so that he could cross his legs. Willie pushed her blonde hair, casually away from her forehead, revealing more fully her flawless skin and deep blue eyes that few men could help but notice. Ted Sutherland was no exception. Her full crimson lips with her mouth only slightly open, showed signs of just the slightest hint of lip rouge and her lips quivered as she began to speak.

  “I will try to begin at the beginning as I know this is what you would advise, but if I digress in any way, please feel free to stop me and I will try to explain. It is not always easy to explain things in the right chronological order and I know I do tend to run away with my thoughts.”

  Sutherland nodded sympathetically and stroked his few hair strands that had fallen down over his left ear and Willie wet her lips as she began to tell her story
.

  “I was born in Innsbruck, as you already know, in 1962 on November 3rd. A Scorpio, for what it’s worth. My mother would have had three other children, two boys and a girl, but they all died in infancy and would have been older than me. I think that is why my parents spoiled me so much... ever since I can remember. I wanted for nothing and Daddy was a famous surgeon. He encouraged me in every way to do whatever I wanted to do... but he didn’t drive me into the medical profession, you understand. That was my own choice, although I am sure I was greatly influenced by him.”

  She suddenly stopped talking at this point in her story, looking guilty as though she had already said too much, but Ted Sutherland was making his notes and encouraged her to continue by cupping his left ear with his hand. Willie grinned as she looked at her wrist watch.

  “I was thinking that by this time you would be able to give me a couple of pills that would set me right,” she said, “I hate talking about myself... it all seems so bloody futile.”

  Sutherland stared at her for a few moments in silence as if transfixed by her honesty and waited for a few seconds before he spoke again.

  “You would be surprised at how many people just love to talk about themselves, Willie. It is so refreshing to hear you speak as you do, but I’m afraid my profession can only survive and prosper if people do talk about themselves and I listen to everything, ramifications or not.”

  “I don’t know what to say to you. I mean, I don’t know what you want to know,” she said, stammering a little in her efforts to explain and Sutherland uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, placing his hands together before him on his desk.

  “Take your time. Talk to me freely about anything you wish.

  Eventually you will know why you have come here and you will understand the need to talk about your particular problem. Don’t be afraid... we all have them... you know, problems I mean and there isn’t a family in the land without at least one skeleton in the cupboard, so fire way. I won’t be at all embarrassed or shocked... at anything you tell me, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

  Willie shifted uneasily where she sat.

  “It’s my husband,” she said slowly after hesitating for some time and as Ted Sutherland sat forward again in his chair, his eyes showed an understanding interest. “I could use that cup of coffee, if it’s still on offer,” she said and Sutherland pressed a button on his desk.

  “Of course and I should think so too. It will help you to relax and give you more time to think.”

  The receptionist came into the consulting room and the psychiatrist asked her to bring coffee for two. She nodded and left the room, returning shortly with the refreshing brew on a silver tray with a plate of biscuits, mostly of the chocolate kind. Sutherland poured and handed a cup to Willie. It clanked against the saucer.

  “Thank you.”

  “Now then... where were we? Oh yes, you were talking about your husband. May I ask his name?”

  Willie sipped her coffee and returned the cup and saucer to the table near the desk

  “Paul... His name is Paul,” she said with a distinct note of pride in her voice.

  “You have difficulty in your marriage?” he asked as he screwed up his face and waited for her answer, which by her expression, he thought would puzzle him. Willie sighed and looked at the carpet. There was a small stain there near her foot... as if someone had spilled something, but it wasn’t badly stained.

  “Not the kind of difficulties that perhaps you would imagine,” she answered, hesitating to address the psychiatrist by his Christian name, but eventually, she did.

  “Ted... My husband is very much in love with me... I’m sure of that,” she said slowly and looked into Sutherland’s eyes to see his reaction.

  “Good... Good,” he exclaimed. “I’m glad to hear that, but you are apprehensive about something, are you not?”

  She lifted her cup again and sipped her coffee.

  “There was an accident... a car accident... five years ago and Paul received severe spinal injuries. He has never walked since that time.”

  ***

  Ted Sutherland pricked up his ears when he heard about the accident. He was well aware that such an event as this could have dire circumstantial changes in anyone’s life and certainly not only to the husband but to Willie as well... but this happened, five years ago, she said. Why had it taken her all this time to come to a psychiatrist? Was this the cause of her distress that plagued her with anxiety? There were many people who had similar distress in their lives and who didn’t need the help of a psychiatrist because of it. He watched Willie carefully as she looked about her as though she didn’t know what next to say and that somewhere in his consulting room... either on the walls or in the furniture, she would find the words she was looking for.

  “Take your time... Take your time,” he urged, “There is no hurry. Just think carefully about what you believe is troubling you in what you have already told me. Take whatever time is necessary.”

  Willie stared at him blankly.

  “What? What did you say?” she asked.

  “I said you should take your own time in telling me of your dilemma. There is all the time in the world. Rome wasn’t built in a day, remember. You must be patient with yourself,” he went on, but she seemed to ignore his advice as she continued to speak.

  “I have caused more trouble than I shall ever be able to assess in my relationship with Paul,” she said, “And yet he is the only person in the world that I want to please. He is my life... my very reason; my only reason for living. Why then do I cause him so much trouble and anxiety?”

  Sutherland tapped his fingers lightly on his desk pad and then he stopped suddenly, realizing that the sound could be picked up in his tape recorder.

  “Why do you believe that you are the cause of the trouble... or troubles that your husband has experienced?” he asked, trying to make eye contact with his client but she would not look at him. She fidgeted with her fingers, rubbing her thumb harshly against her cuticles

  “It had always been this way, from the moment I first met him and it has got worse since our relationship developed. I think it would have been better if I had never married Paul Fehrenbach.”

  “Why do you say that, Willie... when you say that you love him... that he is your life... your reason for living?”

  She sighed and stared again at the carpet, trying to touch the stain with her shoe. She had said that Paul loved her...

  “I think I am having more difficulty speaking about this than I imagined I would. Perhaps I had better go now... maybe some other time.”

  Sutherland turned the tape recorder off.

  “Lots of people feel as you do on the first visit here, Willie. As I have said, give yourself time and as you say... maybe at a later date.”

  “Yes, perhaps... thank you.”

  He tapped his desk again, but he felt something of a failure as he folded his notebook closed and was about to show Wilhelmina Fehrenbach to the door. She stood up and he helped her on with her coat.

  “Ted?”

  “Yes?”

  “Ted... I need help. I know that... but I don’t know how to respond; how to express the feelings that are so deep within me. Do you find other people have that difficulty?”

  “Yes, of course they do... frequently and sometimes I tell them to jot down on a scrap of paper all that they are thinking, whenever the thoughts come to the surface of their minds. Then if they find it difficult to talk about their feelings when they come here, they can read over what they’ve written... and that helps.”

  “Thanks Ted... Thanks awfully. I might be able to do that. Can I telephone you when I feel I am more able to get things straight?”

  “Yes, of course you can. Just make an appointment with Monica... either when you leave or whenever you feel able to come bac
k... and don’t forget what I told you. Don’t worry... and take your time. The notes very often help, you know.”

  Willie left the consulting room but she did not make a fresh appointment to see Ted Sutherland again. She went home, thinking of how she could write her feelings down on paper. It was something she had never ever needed to do before.

  ***

  Ted Sutherland turned on his tape recorder when Willie had left the office. He was anxious about one or two things that she had said when she was with him and the machine rolled back with the command of his finger until he arrived at the points in question.

  ‘Oh it’s just that we got on so well together... Not so with my mother, I’m afraid.”

  He listened for a few seconds before he wound the tape back again. ‘on so well together... Not so with my mother, I’m afraid... ’ ‘Not so with my mother, I’m afraid... ‘ ‘Not so with my mother, I’m afraid... ‘ He made a note on his pad and ran the tape even farther back... November 3rd... a Scorpio... for what it’s worth... ‘ ‘ a Scorpio... for what it’s worth. ‘

  Chapter Two

  The Scribbling

  Day one... Willie wrote in her notebook... She was determined to keep everything in some semblance of order... ‘I met Paul Fehrenbach for the very first time when I was eleven... ‘ she wrote and then she tore the paper up and threw it in the waste paper basket. ‘I was eleven when I first met Paul Fehrenbach’... she wrote again and closed her eyes quickly. She didn’t want to look at her scribbling. She hated doing it... If only she could THINK everything out in her head that could be jotted down for her by some mysterious hand... Someone she didn’t know.. Some way to make it all so impersonal and yet... it was personal... Very personal... It was her inner self, wasn’t it? Nobody else could think it out for her. She had to tackle it alone.

  ‘I was eleven... ‘ she started again. We were both pupils at the riding school run by Emily Frankland at her three acre stables near Moss Farm. She called it Sunacres, I think because it always did seem to have the sunshine whenever we went there to ride. I believe we had only two or three wet days in the whole time of our attendance and we went there for nearly three years at least four times a month latterly, but before that, twice a week. I liked horse-riding but I was never very good at it, whereas Paul was an excellent rider and I remember now having little stabs of jealousy as I watched this handsome, dark haired, olive eyed youngster do his tricks on that gleaming leather saddle. He was thirteen then... two years older than me. I remember that in particular, because when I was reprimanded for not doing so well with the horses, I could always use the excuse that he was two years older than me... and of course in my determined and calculating mind, that made all the difference between being reasonable and being totally perfect... What an idiot, I must have been. I could think of another word for it, but it may be too vulgar to write down here... Yes, Paul was only thirteen then, but I thought he was quite the young man, in his sand coloured jodhpurs and black fitting jacket. He only wore his cap when he was actually riding, but kept it in his hand, at other times. I remember thinking he might be vain about his hair... but I see how wrong that was now... Paul is anything but vain... He doesn’t have to be. He’s one of those people who always look good in anything he wears, whether it’s first thing in the morning or last thing at night. Paul is a perfectionist but he is so naive... He is not aware that he is. I saw that he did have lovely hair, but I wasn’t going to tell him that... was I? Oh if only I could put the clock back... to the time when all the tantrums had gone from me and we were happy. If only I could start all over again, things would be different... I would be different... but then, don’t we all say that when we’ve buggered everything up in our lives... Sorry Ted... I just had to write that... and how often do we ever realize that things would have been the same whatever we did or however hard we tried... and if we had succeeded in changing things... would it have been to our advantage... I wonder... ’