The Surgeon Was a Lady Page 9

  Willie sipped her coffee and ran her tongue across her lips.

  “You’re saying that I need all my nuts and things removed, aren’t you?”

  “Well... You said it... Not I, but I guess your coming to think along the right lines. Look! If you want to leave this subject to the scribbling, then I’ll understand.”

  “No... No,” she insisted. “This is something in my life I never want to write about. If I have to, I’ll talk about it... talk about it quickly and then bury it... I never want to write about it where I could look at it till the cows come home... No way.” Ted looked at her sympathetically as her face twitched. “When my father died,” she continued, “my mother became very reliant on me. I think I told you that. I did, didn’t I?”

  “Yes you did, but go on.”

  “Well as I have already said too, she was... IS a good woman, but my life was so full of so many things at that time... and still is, for that matter. I’m a hoarder... I store things in my mind and they stay there for ages... I tax myself easily... and in one sense that’s a good thing, because I fly through exams as my memory is first class. On the other hand, I store the bad things up here too,” she said and pointed savagely to her head. “I think about Paul... our marriage, my career... everything. Well anyway, with my mother being as she was, I didn’t want any more baggage hanging around my neck. I had enough responsibility... and it didn’t help that I was not overly fond of her...”

  Willie crossed her legs and wet her rouged lips with her tongue as she reached out to the coffee.

  “You know, it would help if you could remove that bloody notice up there... just for ten minutes,” she said and Ted moved from his desk and walked across towards the window.

  “I wouldn’t do that for everyone... you know that,” he said as he opened the window and threw her a box of matches.

  She lit up immediately and closed her eyes in satisfaction as she savoured the smoke in her nostrils, puffing her fag and making frantic circles into the air from between her lips.

  “I don’t have an ashtray here,” he said apologetically.

  “No problem... Just hold out your hand... palm down.”

  “Yes mi’lady... Will that be all mi’lady.” he said and they laughed together. “You were going to tell me about your mother?”

  “Was I,” she grunted and inhaled. “I was hoping you’d forget.”

  She sat back and drew deeply on her cigarette, flicking the ash into an envelope that Ted had given her from his desk.

  “Should I start at the beginning, Ted?”

  “Where else...”

  She sighed again and her eyes looked sad as he watched her look down, but she didn’t look for the stain this time... That didn’t matter any more.

  “Well, my life as a child was very pleasant. I didn’t have a worry in the world. I was spoiled beyond words and yet... from my mother’s side, I always felt a sort of niggling enmity animosity... I suppose that’s the best word to use. Does that make sense?”

  Sutherland was silent, but he raised his eyebrows and she understood. “Daddy was fantastic. I adored him... and I think when I look back now that it was that affinity between us... Daddy and I, that well... sort of angered mother. I felt she resented me, but as I have already said, she was never cruel or in any way offensive... You do understand, don’t you?”

  Sutherland nodded again in silence... and waited... as the recorder purred in its cradle and the green light flickered away happily on his desk.

  “I felt this undercurrent of...” she stopped talking and drew on her cigarette again. “I don’t know what word to use and I hate the word, jealousy... Oh gawd... I’m making a right cock up of this, aren’t I?”

  He nodded again, but still said nothing.

  “Well... do I have to go on... Do I have to say any more?”

  Again, Ted nodded in silence... and ran his tongue across his lips, as she stubbed her cigarette out in the flap of the envelope and folded it down.

  “Can you put that in your waste paper basket and close the window now please,” she asked as she passed him the envelope. “It’s getting a bit chilly in here...” she added and he did as she asked and crossed his legs when he sat down again with an arthritic groan, as he waited for her to continue. She ran her fingers through her hair and her face went pale.

  “It was shortly after Daddy died and as I said, mother kept hanging on to me... following me everywhere, begging me to come back to the house and stay with her, but I couldn’t. At that time I had to live in the hospital anyway and I was blunt with her, telling her she would have to stand on her own two feet... Oh Yes, I could always tell others what to do, but I wasn’t very good at taking my own advice. I’ve regretted how I treated mother ever since. I know I was cruel, but that’s the way I am. You know that!”

  “Go on.”

  “I got wild when she wouldn’t leave me alone and I poured my anger out on her with a vengeance... and she in turn told me a few home truths... that hurt like hell. She went on about how much they had done for me, especially father and that not many parents would do that sort of thing and I lost my temper completely when she said that. I screamed at her and told her that I didn’t ask to be born. I hadn’t asked for them to be my parents, but as they were, they were morally responsible to do the best they could for me... and it was then that she let the bombshell drop... and I think that’s why I’ve hated her ever since. It was a cruel thing to say.”

  “What was that, Willie?”

  She licked her lips and picked nervously at her finger nails.

  “She told me... she told me that I was an ungrateful brat... That she and Daddy were not my biological parents and that they had adopted me at birth...”

  There was a protracted silence in the room for quite some time before Ted Sutherland spoke again.

  “I’m sorry, Willie... so sorry... Perhaps I should have been more caring in my enquiries. Maybe I shouldn’t have jumped the gun, eh?”

  She took out another cigarette, but returned it immediately again to its case, dropping it casually into her handbag.

  “I’ll have to give these bloody things up. I keep sayin’ I will, but I never do. How can anyone be so strong willed for some things and yet so weak willed for so many more... I ask you? It’s like everything about my sodden life... all extremes... all black or all white... no flamin’ grey.”

  Sutherland banged his fist on his desk.

  “Don’t be so bloody hard on yourself, I keep telling you,” he said, but he knew, despite his seeming concern, that she was chipping away in the right direction.

  “Ted... It’s worse than you think. I have told you that my mother... well, Mrs. Reinhardt... but I’ll call her mother so you will know who I’m talking about, yes?”

  “Sure, that’s fine by me. Carry on.”

  Willie looked about her and her face appeared confused as she tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come easily and she stared again at the carpet... for the stain... for something that was familiar to her as she felt herself to be a total stranger, to herself and to everyone else. She had never felt this way before, because she would not allow herself the truth when it hurt so much. Her pride was crushed... Her whole life was ruined... She had no Daddy any more. No hero... Nothing... She was a sham... and the whole world should know it. Slowly she swallowed hard and stared at Ted Sutherland as if she was looking at him for the very first time in her empty life.

  “There were three other children in the marriage... as I’ve told you also... Two boys and a girl... and all them died within days of their birth. The last... the little girl was called...”

  Ted waited as Willie closed her eyes and a tear feel down her cheek. “They called her Wilhelmina.” she said in a low voice and he gasped... but her next statement shook him rigid.

  “She was born on th
e same day as me... November 3rd. 1962 at 5.45 in the morning.”

  “But... but, your own mother? What about..?”

  Willie opened her eyes and looked out of the window.

  “My own mother... She died giving birth to me... and the other little girl died the same day she was born. She died at 8.40 a.m... the exact moment that I was born.”

  Willie’s eyes were sad and another long silence ensued before either she or Ted Sutherland could speak again.

  “Ted, I was more hurt than I ever thought I could be, when my mother... Mrs. Reinhardt, told me of all these details and how they adopted me because they were told they would never have any more children. You see, it wasn’t just the adoption which was bad enough, but the fact that I was thought to be... second best... a substitute for the real thing... a replacement tailor made for the occasion... and then to add even more injury... to give me the little girl’s name.”

  Ted Sutherland reached across his desk and held out his hand.

  “Come... sit nearer to me... Over here. I want to comfort you,” he said and she sat on the chair nearest his desk as he held her hand. The tenderness brought tears to her eyes again and he offered her his handkerchief. “Let it all out, Willie. Don’t bottle it up. I think this is exactly what you need.”

  At that moment Monica knocked on the door to enquire if they wanted coffee, but Ted put his hand in the air and from the look on his face, Monica knew to withdraw quietly and close the door as Willie sobbed through her words and tried to explain.

  “I’m a cocky swine aren’t I... and yet... Well now you can see that I have nothing to be cocky about. I’m really nothing and I came from nothing, didn’t I?... and what makes me saddest is the thought of the Daddy I adored... smiling at me, loving me, with the smiles and love that were meant for someone else. He gave me all that love and attention when it never really should have been mine. I feel so alone, Ted... so desperately alone.”

  “But you’ve got Paul.”

  She sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling as she handed Ted back his handkerchief.

  “I know... I know... and I love him Ted... but I’m not in love with him and I miss being in love. I really, really do. I don’t know how Paul and I can go on the way we are and yet I can’t leave him... He needs me.”

  Reluctantly Ted Sutherland offered her the advice that he knew she would not accept anyway, but he felt he had to say it.

  “You could divorce him... Couldn’t you?” he said and watched her face as she laughed cynically.

  “Could you if you were in my situation? “ Willie sobbed through her tears... “Besides, I love him. I’ve told you that already and I am all he has. It was through me that he is the way he is.”

  Sutherland frowned.

  “But Willie... you can’t blame yourself for the accident. That could have happened to anyone... and at any time...”

  She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes.

  “You don’t understand, Ted... Paul was not driving that night of the accident... I was. We’d had a silly row and I can’t even remember now what it was about, but whatever it was, you can be sure that I was right and Paul was wrong... It’s always that way... Oh blast!... Damn and blast! I’m gonna have another bloody fag.”

  She lit up and he gave her another envelope, making her smile.

  “I can never divorce Paul, Ted... but that’ not my immediate worry. That’s not what’s causing me to be so depressed and the real reason why I have come to you for help.”

  “No?”

  “No... That isn’t my worry now.”

  “Well... tell me, Willie... What is your worry?”

  Her head fell to one side and her cigarette dropped from her fingers. Ted caught it and steadied her in her chair as she looked at him with glazed eyes.

  “Willie... Willie. Are you alright? Can I get you a glass of water? You look as though you might faint?” Ted called out, but she put her hand in the air and shook her head.

  “I’m not sure if I meant that accident to happen or not...” she said and her voice was ragged. “I may have wanted to kill Paul.”

  ***

  She left the surgery about noon and wandered around the town thinking over all that she had told Ted Sutherland... with much more than a little regret. She knew she had to be honest with him in all things and at all times. That was part of the healing process... but it was a hard task to perform. She never before realized just how barren and dirty she seemed to herself. She was someone... well a nothing really, without respect or feeling... well, she had the feelings alright, but they were all the wrong kind. They belonged to someone of a different era somehow... and Lucretia Borgia sprang to mind as she walked on... aimlessly. It seemed that she was another person and not Wilhelmina Fehrenbach at all... someone she had crossed paths with suddenly in a fleeting moment... in a dark shadow of the past and she wanted to shake that person off and say how they were no part of her self... Her real self... but whatever she did, or wherever she walked, that shadow would follow her. It was part of her... No! It was her.

  She turned a corner in the High Street and passed the same jeweller where she had bought the pendant, not so long ago, but it seemed like ages now... She stared into the window and the space where the locket had been, was now empty... There was only the trace of an outline on the lilac velvet cushion where she had first seen it... Only a shadow of its former self... and the bloody thing was lying somewhere, unobserved in her jewel case at home... Typical, she thought... and she couldn’t wait to buy it...

  She decided to go home and scribble some more events of her life for Ted. It was getting easier to write now. She had indeed broken the ice and all her thoughts tumbled out before her, cascading into a pattern that lacked interest, quality and love... and in her mind’s eye she could see the man who told her he was her father... the eminent surgeon whom she so admired and loved... She could see his hands again... those strong, masculine healing hands and his eyes stared into hers... and then something strange happened in her dream... Professor Reinhardt was holding a scalpel in his hands, inviting her to take it from him... but before she could reach out for it, he snapped it in two and shook his head...

  Was that a warning... she thought. Was her father telling her to operate no more... or was that forewarning concerning her husband Paul... Was the Professor telling her that she should dispel any thought from her head, that she could get rid of him, under the knife...

  She shook her head to rid her mind of her thoughts and as part of her ‘healing plan’ she decided to give up smoking that afternoon and started her scribbling to Ted Sutherland again, with itchy fingers... but she was determined not go back on her resolution. ‘From little acorns...’ she thought and began to write.

  ‘Ted... I’m sorry for the way I folded up in your office this morning. It is so unlike me to do that sort of thing and I feel like a third rate Greta Garbo who wants to be alone... but not by choice, I do assure you... I hate whimpering women... They make me sick, but there was so much I had to tell you... So much that just had to be said... and it was the stuff that I could not easily commit to paper. There is a lot more that you should know, but as you so wisely say... It will come in the fullness of time... you wise old Sage... but now that I have let the Genie out of the lamp. I’ll try to tell you as much as I can here.

  Firstly, I know you must surely be wondering about my natural mother. Who she was, what she was... but I’m afraid your guess is as good as mine. I think I may well be a bastard... from the little I do know of her and doesn’t that word sound so aggressive? Much more descriptive though, then being just an illegitimate child... eh? I haven’t had a lot of time to investigate my origins really... not since I knew of my state after Daddy died and mother felt she was too honest, to hide the truth... although why the hell she couldn’t have told the truth years before, I’ll never know.
I did learn from the hospital records at the Stabat Mater in Innsbruck, a hospital run by some order of nuns... that there were indeed three children born on November 3rd 1962. There was little Wilhelmina Reinhardt, whose identity I took... myself and another child, who died immediately he was born and therefore was never given a name. I thought this was going to be my most difficult problem, when suddenly by the most natural means possible, I was given my answer without strain or effort. How stupid of me not to think... If this third child was a male... a little boy, then the search for my mother was narrowed down... to someone who gave birth on that day, to a little girl... as well as Madame Reinhardt, for surely a little boy would always carry the father’s name, even if he married... or the mother’s name if she wasn’t married... but not necessarily so if it was a little girl... a daughter who would take her husband’s name and not a son... I learned too that my natural mother was a woman named De Marco... Sylvana De Marco... an actress, I believe, although not a very successful one and I believe she had never married my father... whoever the hell he was... Some bloody third rate Valentino, I guess. His name was never set out on the records and you know what nuns are like... or do you? They believe everything is God’s will... either permissive or Divine... and therefore they accept everything without question and no further questions were asked... I wonder if my other mother... Madame Reinhardt would worry, if she knew that all infants who die at birth, like that other little boy... are just buried with any adult, on the same day... and in the same coffin, to save expenses, I suppose. Could it be that my little precursor... the little girl whose name I took, was buried with my natural mother... as her child? What a mix-up... What confusion... or could it just be that the Fehrenbach’s knew of this ruling and allowed it to happen... after all, it was a game where you lost one and gained another... wasn’t it?