The Surgeon Was a Lady Page 6

  The nurse gave what seemed to be a polite courtesy as she left the lounge and returned to the kitchen where she put the flowers into a vase for Paul. She knew how much he liked flowers in the lounge... well they both enjoyed them actually...

  Paul looked apprehensive as Willie sat near him and moved his lips in an effort to speak, but he could only produce a saliva thread again as Willie pressed her forefinger into the palm of his hand... a sign which made him realize that everything was alright and under control and that he had no need to worry about a thing... Willie was back in charge...

  “I think a feeder would be better than this cup, nurse. Nurse... nurse are you there?”

  Clemmie appeared at the doorway wiping her hands on a tartan towel.

  “Yes Madame?”

  “Oh never mind... I’ll get it myself.”

  Willie stormed from the room and brought a feeder cup from the kitchen, then proceeded to help her husband to have his drink, but Paul’s eyes followed Nurse Clements as she moved forwards to help but Willie pushed her aside rudely.

  “Don’t bother... I can manage. It’s not me whose crippled.” she snapped.

  ***

  “Well now... what’s troubling you nurse? You wanted to speak to me about something. Yes?”

  Willie followed Clemmie into the kitchen as the latter carried the tea tray back from the lounge without having finished her own cup.

  “Oh that... well, yes, Madame... It’s about what you said on the phone... you know when you were at the hospital... about night care?”

  “What are you talking about? What night care?” she said and her voice was angry.

  She had forgotten about what she had said... “Sit down,” she barked, hoping to think of something to say to redeem herself, “Nothing is ever settled standing on your feet, you know.”

  Nurse Clements sat down. Willie stood over her and listened.

  “The night carer for Mr. Paul, Madame... I thought you...”

  “Never mind what you thought I thought... Can you manage or can’t you?”

  “Well... yes, I can manage Madame, that is provided I can settle your husband down about nine o’clock or so, but he likes to watch television sometimes into the late hours and I don’t... well, I can’t leave him, can I?”

  Willie looked on with eyes of steel.

  “He’s bloody lucky to have you, Clemmie,” she said almost with a heart... “You’re not thinking of leaving us by any chance are you?” she asked, but Clemmie dithered and shifted from one foot to the other as Willie continued, “Well... you are or you’re not... Which is it to be?... Oh for gawds sake make another pot of tea, will you?”

  Clemmie moved to the command and switched the kettle on. “It’s the night duty Madame. I think you might be right in getting an extra nurse to help in that way... and No... I have no intentions of leaving... that is if my services are satisfactory enough,” she said as she lowered her eyes, but Willie made no comment on that matter. She was not going to be held to ransom by some ridiculous woman in a pinny and if she wanted to bugger off, she could... She could bloody well sling her hook...

  “I’ll think about it...”

  Clemmie made the fresh pot of tea and handed a cup to Willie, who grabbed it from her hand, spilling some over the kitchen floor.

  “I am on duty during the day, Madame, as you know... and I am happy with that situation... and I know I agreed to live in, so that if Paul... sorry, your husband was ill or needed something in the night, I would be available, but I think he now needs more constant care... and for the full twenty-four hours.”

  Willie raised her eyes to the ceiling and sighed heavily in exasperation.

  “I said I’d think about it didn’t I... and anyway you have your time off, don’t you... and old Miss Jennings from next door comes in from time to time, doesn’t she? Nosy old cow, but she’s there just the same... What more do you want?”

  “Well... It was you who originally suggested a night nurse Madame...” Clemmie said and bit her lip as she began to cry.

  “Oh come now Nurse... I thought you could cope with situations like this without cracking up. What sort of training did you have, eh? Why don’t you mop that tea up from the kitchen floor?”

  Clemmie dried her tears as she listened to the compromise and mopped up the tea that Willie had spilled.

  “I’m sorry Madame,” she said softly.

  “Its not more money you’re after, is it?”

  “No... no, Madame... It’s just that I felt Mr. Fehrenbach should have more care in the night... as you suggested.”

  “Oh... so it’s Mr. Fehrenbach now, is it. My gawd, I’ll never understand you nurses as long as I live. I work with them all day and many nights and you’re all the bloody same.”

  “But Madame... he’s a man and he should have his dignity... surely?”

  “He’s not pissing himself or anything, is he?”

  Clemmie closed her eyes as if to shut off the disgust she felt in her heart. She knew that she would do anything for her patient and that nothing would be too much or too humiliating for her.

  “He is having dreams Madame... well nightmares really, I think... and I feel it would be best if he had more care at night.”

  Willie threw back her head and laughed as she tossed the contents of her cup into the sink,

  “My gawd... Not wet ones, I hope... You’re not afraid he’ll rape you, are you?” she barked but Clemmie could stand no more when she said that. She jumped up and ran into the garden. The air was crisp and her clothing was light, but her whole being boiled over with indignation as she stood helplessly amongst the flowers she had picked only a short time ago. The purple and white orchid trees were bursting into jubilant bloom and the Poinciana spilled over in drifts of scarlet confetti as she gazed through the mist of her tears. Was there anything... she thought... Anything that she could do to make Paul Fehrenbach’s life more bearable, she asked herself and her hatred of Willie became more intense in that moment.

  Willie followed her into the garden, walking slowly.

  “You want someone to share your duties... is that it?” she asked and Clemmie turned to her in despair.

  “I wish it could be different,” she said in a strong voice as she threw her head back in defiance, “But where he used to sleep peacefully all through the night... he doesn’t now and I’m worried.”

  Willie resisted the temptation to ask Nurse Clements how she could say that her husband slept, all through the night... but she twisted her tongue around her cheek.

  “Are you inferring that I should come home and be here with him myself at night time?” she asked with a note of impertinence in her voice as she stared at the nurse... knowing that she had no intentions of doing anything like that... under any circumstances.

  Clemmie kept her eyes closed.

  “A man... a man needs a woman by him... all the time, Madame,” she said softly, “and I can see how much he loves you... but,”

  With that, Willie turned on her, giving her no chance to finish her sentence.

  “Oh can you indeed? Well bloody hooray for you is all I can say. You are paid to look after my husband, not to analyse the state of my marriage, do you understand? Now you’ve given us good service in the past and you can carry on doing that... or you can leave... Just as you wish, Nurse Clements.”

  The nurse turned to go back into the house, knowing that whatever she did, Willie would do her own thing. She would lead her life exactly as she wished... and that way of life did not include Paul Fehrenbach, it seemed,... but Clemmie had too much of a strong bond for Paul to do anything other than stay with him, whatever else... She was a prisoner of her heart and happy to be so... when Willie was not around.

  “I’ll give the matter of a night nurse more consideration when I have time,” Willie s
houted after Clemmie as she looked away and frowned across the garden.

  “My gawd... We need a bloody gardener too, by the looks of things. When will it all end..?”

  She returned to the house, treading over some flowers that sprouted from the herbaceous border and she kicked them to one side, wiping her shoes as if she had stood in dog’s mess.

  Paul looked at her as she came into the room, holding his head erect which was unusual for him. His eyes were ablaze and she could see that something or someone had angered him, but she dispelled the very idea that she could possibly have been the culprit.

  “Happy darling?” she asked with a condescending smile as she bent down to kiss his neck. “Now then... give me your hand and I’ll tell you something nice.”

  She stroked his fingers as she called to Clemmie.

  “Nurse, bring my husband some more tea... Just milk, no sugar,” she added unnecessarily, with a ring of sarcasm and Clemmie’s vision clouded again with tears as she went into the kitchen. “Now then... Where was I? Oh yes, I was going to tell you something nice, wasn’t I? I’m sure it will amuse you,” she said and whispered ‘soft boy’ into his ear as she took his fingers in her hands.

  ‘This little piggy went to market...

  This little piggy stayed at home.

  But one little piggy wouldn’t go to sleep at night... ’

  She smiled wickedly into Paul’s face and he pulled his hand away. At that moment she heard a crash in the kitchen and her eyes narrowed into hatred as she dropped Paul’s hand and stared at the lounge door.

  “Clumsy idiot,” she remarked in a low tone before she returned again to Paul. “Hand...” she demanded in a hard voice and he obeyed. “Now I understand you’re not being a very good boy for Nurse Clements in the night... is that so?” Paul’s finger made no response to her question. It remained limp and she tightened her grip and squeezed hard until she could feel him flinch. “Answer me darling, because if you don’t, we may have to take drastic measures to redress the situation, won’t we?” His finger did not move. “And dear Nurse Clements may even leave us if you don’t improve...”

  Paul’s finger jumped as if a nerve had been touched and he answered in the negative as only he could...

  “Well then, my darling... stop pissing about in the night... otherwise the bitch will walk out on us... do you hear?” she snapped and with that, she slammed his hand down on the hard leather arm piece of the chair and his arm shook.

  He looked at her through wet eyes and she could see him plead with her not to let Clemmie go as his mouth quivered and drooled and Willie closed her eyes in disgust.

  “You’ve got a thing about her, haven’t you darling?” she smirked and his mouth trembled as saliva ran from his tongue. “Hope you’re not thinking of getting her into trouble, naughty boy... that would never do, would it... Not our sweet little virgin Clemmie...”

  Paul fell forward and she had to grab him to steady him as his body shook and his legs began to spasm...

  “Nurse... nurse... Come quickly, I need help.”

  Clemmie rushed into the room and put her arms around Paul, drawing him close to her as she steadied him in his chair. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were wide as Willie bent down to kiss his cheek, but he looked at her with a look of shame and his head lolled over towards Clemmie’s arms.

  ***

  Was there a choice then; either to return to her home at nights or get another nurse? Willie considered carefully but ruled out any possibility of returning home, just to suit little old Clementine... No... she would make a replacement and get someone in for the night duty, someone where she could perhaps kill two birds with the one stone... but she would never give up her practice at St. Mark’s.

  ***

  The next few days were without incident and she allowed herself more time for her scribbling as she watched Paul to ensure that his conduct of those last few days had improved. He was getting too stroppy by far. Better he get back to the stage where he just sat gawking with his mouth open, she thought.. He was better able to do that, even if the sight of him repulsed her.

  Chapter Eight

  Scribbling Again

  Ted Sutherland burst into the office and slapped some papers down on Monica’s desk before he went into his consulting room. He lifted his telephone as he disrobed one arm after the other from his jacket and pulled his reading glasses from the top drawer in his desk.

  “Did you want me to do something with these, Mr. Sutherland? I was in the ladies room when you came in and you didn’t give me a minute...” Monica complained.

  “Oh yes, love. Sorry about that. I need the rest of the file from that lot, please. Mrs. Fehrenbach is coming in at ten this morning and I don’t have much time to make my notes... and there is something in particular I want to see...”

  Monica got the Fehrenbach file out and took it into Ted.

  “Coffee?” she asked and he nodded with his nose in his paperwork.

  “Now let me see... Hmmmm!”

  “Well, I’ll leave you to it and I’ll bring your coffee in a few minutes. By the way, we need some more biscuit money. The kitty is empty.”

  “Hmmmm! Oh yes, OK. Here...” He pulled a wallet from his back pocket and threw it at Monica. “Help yourself but be sure to put the receipt for the bloody things in the box,” he added and Monica grinned as she left the room.

  “Do you want bloody or just chocolate biscuits,” she asked and Ted aimed a paper clip at the door, which just missed her ear as she went out.

  ***

  Ted Sutherland was hoping to ask some more questions pertaining to Willie’s mother, but he knew that was a delicate subject with her and he just couldn’t understand why she was so evasive about this part of her life, which was very important to him.

  “She adored her Daddy,” he muttered to himself, but not Mummy, apparently... Now where the hell does Mummy fit into our picture?

  Willie took her notes to Sutherland on her way to St. Mark’s, feeling that in this way she would not be delayed in small talk either with Ted himself or with the tolerated Monica. There would be no coffee drinking, nor eye to eye contact where she could feel vulnerable in everything she said or did in her life... and besides, there was much that was too embarrassing for her to tell Ted Sutherland about. He may be a psychiatrist, but he was still a man and although she didn’t fancy him... she couldn’t be sure what he felt about her. He was certainly trying to strip her down, that was for sure and she knew that was what consultations of this kind were all about, but being the woman she was, she wanted to be stripped down in her own time and in her own way...

  ***

  The bell rang on his desk and Monica announced that Madame Fehrenbach was waiting in Reception. Now Monica and Ted had an arrangement by code... If the client waiting in Reception was angry, she would cough once... twice for very angry and so on... and if she thought the caller had an urgent need, she would address her boss as Mr. Edward...

  Ted heard only one cough and felt relieved as Willie came through the door.

  “I’m really very sorry, Ted, but I have to get back to the hospital straight away... some things have come up that I just can’t avoid. You do understand, don’t you?”

  “Sure... sure that’s fine Willie... but do you have any more notes that I can have?” he asked as he pushed her file from his desk onto his plump knees where she wouldn’t be able to see it.

  “Yes... I have them here... somewhere.” Willie searched in her briefcase and produced a wad of papers “Here we are... Not such a lot this time, I think I’m getting less paranoid... eh?”

  “We’ll see, but anyway, run along and give me a bell when you want to see me again.”

  “Thanks Ted... Monica OK this morning?” she asked as she was about to leave the consulting room.

  “Mon
ica... Do you mean our Monica? “

  “Yes, our Monica.”

  “Yeah... she’s fine, why?”

  “Oh nothing... Just thought she had a cold or something... You should tell her to get something for that cough.”

  Ted grinned as Willie swept out into the Reception and into the street.

  ***

  He opened the papers that she had brought him, adjusted his glasses and began to read.

  ‘Paul, my husband was never the one to take the initiative in anything concerning our married life... That was always left to me... even our tender sex life... Far too tender for me, was instigated by me for the most part. I have often wondered what Paul would have done if suddenly one night I had appeared in the bedroom with flame coloured bra and panties... the ones they make without a crotch... and black silk hose and scanty suspenders... Maybe I should have tried that, but I didn’t. Instead I lay back and thought of England, when he was thinking of the latest formula for sulphonamide... or bacteriological acne in the young... however, despite all that, he did have a quality that I admired although I hated myself for doing so. He loved children... and wanted so desperately to have a child, but I hated them and could not believe that my life would benefit in any way by giving birth. The very thought of all that fuss... the palaver of going through nine months like a baby rhinoceros and then having to stick my legs in the air while some old bloke had a look up my vulva... ugh! No thanks. All that fuss and mucking about is not for me, but sometimes I think if I had agreed to have a child, things would have been different.

  It was after the accident... the big accident in the car that things began to change dramatically and my whole life took on a different perspective. Mind you, I was no saint and never have been, except perhaps in the years when Daddy was alive and I was so obsessed with him and his profession that I literally thought of nothing else. Monthly periods and boobs were just items that occurred. There was nothing special there. I didn’t gasp when they happened and I didn’t look in the mirror to see what size cup I had. Life was just one academic adventure... but when Daddy died... everything changed... and I mean everything... everything... everything.