Reading Notes: Reading Notes:
1. This is the tenth chapter written in collaboration with Sissy Simon(e), who was owned by my late friend, Nicola. It is published in her memory. This chapter marks the end of this series, which seems to have run its course.
2. This is a work of total fiction. All characters are at least 18 years of age, and everyone who participates in any of the sexual practices described does so consensually.
Life in the small village of Cwm Pechod continued in its slow, traditional way. Change came slowly, if at all, and as she drove into the car park of the surgery where she worked, Dr Mary Walters reflected on the decision that she had made some five years ago. It was, she decided, probably one of the best she had ever made in her life.
She had given up her job in a big teaching hospital in Cardiff and returned to her home village to become a partner in the general practice which her mother, Sara ran. An added bonus was that she had been able to obtain a job as practice nurse for her lover, Clarice, known to everybody as Cee. As she turned off the car's engine, Mary leaned across and gave Cee a kiss.
"Come on, nurse Richardson," she smiled, "time to get that beautiful arse in gear. Work calls!"
The two women made their way into the surgery via the staff entrance. In the office behind the reception area, Gwladys, the efficient practice receptionist and secretary was busy making pre-appointment tea.
"Good morning, Dr Mary; good morning nurse Cee," she said smiling and pouring boiling water into the teapot to warm it properly. Tea making was a serious ritual for Gwladys. None of this tea bag in a mug nonsense. Tea had to be brewed properly, to the correct colour and strength. In Gwladys's case, the colour was mahogany, and as for strength, if a spoon couldn't stand up unaided in the mug, it was deemed to be ''pisho'r gath' (cat's pee) by Gwladys.
"Morning, Gwladys," responded Mary and Cee in unison. They had both long given up trying to persuade her to be less formal when there were no patients about. And after today they wouldn't ever have to pretend to enjoy drinking her tea either. Today was Gwladys's last day at work. She was retiring.
The office door opened and Mary's mother breezed in, looking healthy and very pleased with herself.
"Good morning all," she smiled.
The responses never changed.
"Good morning, Dr Sara." This was Gwladys, of course.
"Morning, mam," was Mary's traditional greeting.
"Good morning, Sara," was the way Cee greeted Mary's mother in public. When she and Mary saw Sara and her submissive cuckold husband Paul, also known as Paula, in private, she always addressed her as "Ma'am."
Gwladys, who always was first into work, and who knew the surgery routine inside out, dispensed the tea. She looked at her notepad and recited,
"Dr Mary. Your first appointment is young Rachel Adams. She's still breast feeding and her nipples are cracked and sore. She wants some advice, and I suspect, some cream."
Mary shook her head in amazement. How Gwladys managed to get so much information out of patients was a mystery. Meanwhile, Gwladys was telling Cee about her early appointments.
"Mrs Thomas is first, nurse Cee," she began. "Her leg's getting better, but her dressing needs changing. Then you have Mrs Jones who wants you to look at a boil on her backside."
This was too much, and all three women burst out laughing.
"Gwladys, you are worth your weight in gold," spluttered Sara, wiping tears of mirth away. "How the hell we are going to manage without you is beyond me. Won't you please reconsider your decision to retire?"
"I'm sorry, Dr Sara. I can't do that," said Gwladys in a perfect imitation of 2001's computer, HAL. To her disappointment, none of the three women got her joke, as none of them had ever seen the film. Undeterred, Gwladys continued her recitation of the morning's appointments.
"Your first appointment is a bit of a mystery, Dr Sara," she said, "it's that new couple that moved into the big house at the bottom of the valley. All I know is that he's retired and she's been appointed to the bench of magistrates. They haven't really joined in village life yet. Still, I'm sure you'll be able to sort them out."
"Now then ladies, off you go," she said briskly, making shooing motions with her hands. "You've had your tea, you've all got patients to prepare for, and I've got to explain the filing and appointments system to Justine. Again!"
She rolled her eyes in exasperation, and Sara, Mary and Cee hurried out before they offended her again by bursting into laughter. Justine was Gwladys's replacement, and she'd been shadowing her for a month or so now. She was a young, single parent, her husband having been killed in an horrific road traffic accident a year ago. Since then, her daughter had begun full time school, and Justine had taken the opportunity to go back to work.
Gwladys had mentioned Justine to Sara when she told her that she was intending to retire. Both Gwladys and Justine went to the same chapel every Sunday, and the older woman felt it her Christian duty to try and help the young widow. Sara had interviewed Justine, and offered her the job. Now it was up to Gwladys to teach her replacement the techniques required to become an efficient and effective surgery receptionist. It was, Gwladys realised almost straight away, not going to be an easy task.
In the corridor outside, Sara asked if either Mary or Cee knew anything about Mr and Mrs Coxe, who had moved into the big house and were her first appointment. Both women shook their heads.
"I've seen him about in the village," Cee said, "but I've never spoken to him. I suppose you can access his medical records. Maybe that'll give you some clue."
All three women went into their own consulting room, closed the door and settled down to wait for their first patients to arrive.
Sara called up the medical records of her first patients on her PC. She noted that they had registered with the practice six months ago, when they moved to Cwm Pechod from a surgery in the south east of England. To her certain knowledge, neither of the Coxes had ever been seen by her since they had registered. As she studied the medical history files, Sara became aware of a feeling that both Mr and Mrs Coxe were not the typical patients that her practice was used to dealing with. Neither of them had been seen by a doctor in their previous surgery for over eighteen months. She wondered what medical condition had arisen in one, or both of them to warrant a joint appointment now.
"Oh well," she thought, "I'll soon find out."
Looking at the clock on the wall, Sara realised it was time to begin morning surgery. She pressed the button on her desk which would summon her first patients from the waiting area via the display screen on the wall there.
"Now then, Mr and Mrs Coxe," she thought, "let's see what's brought you to see the doctor this morning."
"Come in," Sara called in answer to the brisk knock on her door. The door opened and Sara got her first look at her new patients.
Mrs Coxe was a tall, thin woman with a bust that was out of proportion to the rest of her body. She was beautifully made up, and her shoulder length silver grey hair was immaculately cut and styled.
Her husband followed her into the consulting room. Shorter than his wife, he wore round wire rimmed glasses that immediately made Sara think of John Lennon. He had a very pleasant smile and it was much in evidence as he extended his hand to shake Sara's, which she had offered in greeting.
"Good morning, both," she said with a smile. "I'm Dr Walters. It's very good to meet you. Please sit down. How may I help you this morning?"
Having made themselves comfortable in the chairs supplied for patients, the Coxes looked at one another, and hesitated. Eventually, Mrs Coxe spoke. She had a very different accent to the local Welsh lilt and it sounded harsh and very strange to Sara.
"Before we get into what's troubling my husband," she began, "I would like to be assured that you are bound by patient confidentiality. What you hear in this room won't go any further, will it?"
Sara smiled sweetly, and replied,
"Rest assured, Mr Coxe," she said, deliberately addressing her remarks to her male patient. "Everything I hear in here is totally confidential. In fact," she continued, determined to show that she was not going to be intimidated in her own surgery, "if you are the patient, and your wife is merely accompanying you here today, I'll need your permission to allow her to stay during this consultation."
"No offence, Mrs Coxe, but as you have already said, patient confidentiality is paramount."
"None taken," she replied with a tight smile. "I'm glad we were able to sort that out straight away."
"Go on then," she said, jostling her husband's elbow. "Give Dr Walters your permission for me to stay!"
