David lives nurse fantasy & catches up with Wendy.
**************
Sydney, Australia 1983.
Nineteen years exactly, I thought ruefully, and I will never know if Wendy came back. I struggled to find a comfortable position in my hospital bed but the constant throbbing in my foot would not go away no matter what I did. I took the letter from the bedside and read again the words I knew by heart anyway.
Dearest David,
Mary Ann has passed your letter on to me and I know I must try to explain something that is unexplainable. I cannot maintain contact and cannot promise anything except that I will return in 1983, if you still want me to. My heart is torn apart but I have a previous promise, one I cannot explain, but I have a life task that must take all my time and effort.
I cannot ask you to wait, in fact I must ask you not to.
Please live your life as if I did not exist, no woman is worth wasting your life in waiting, so find someone special and enjoy her with my blessing.
When my task is finished I will give you an explanation regardless so you can finally understand why I have behaved so cruelly to you.
Please do not try to contact us again as this will compromise my situation and could cost me everything.
I remember the best two days of my life as those I spent with you and those memories keep me sane in a world of madness and hate.
I love you, but I cannot be with you.
Wendy.
I folded the letter again, and waited for the next nurse to come in and see how I was, about ten minutes from now I was guessing.
I had got a brief thank you note a couple of months after Wendy’s last visit. It was a generic wedding gift thank you letter and I wondered if Mary Ann’s new husband knew he was thanking me for taking his now wife’s virginity just before their wedding. I imagined not.
I had thought about it for a few days and made the decision I was going to find Wendy and bring her back regardless, but Mary Ann’s postal address was the only lead I had so I needed to be careful. I wrote a note to Mary Ann and asked her to give me Wendy’s address, as I needed to get in touch with her on a matter of some importance and waited for the reaction.
Three months later the letter arrived.
My immediate reaction was angry and I sent another letter to Wendy, care of Mary Ann. It arrived back, unopened, with “unknown at this address” stamped on it. I destroyed the letter and will be forever thankful that it did not get delivered. I learned two things from that episode; one was to never write a letter in anger, the other was Wendy was on Wendy’s terms, not David’s.
I launched myself into work with renewed vigor and by the seventies I had one of the biggest transport companies in the country. I worked hard and played even harder with some pretty model or actress or socialite on my arm and in my bed most nights. I was surprised to be listed by the women’s magazines as one of the most eligible bachelors for many years running, possibly because of the value of my expanding empire, or maybe because of my complete failure to find a lady I wanted to settle down with.
I sold the yard in Doncaster in the early eighties to a property developer who then went bankrupt so I bought it back for much less from the receiver, subdivided it myself and resold the lots at an obscene profit. I built new yards and warehouses across Australia and made my company a truly national concern. I owned everything outright and never had to crawl to a bank manager, although many of them crawled to me.
As I lay in that hospital bed in 1983 I thought to myself I had everything in life except for the one thing I really wanted and if that one thing turned up in Melbourne, where I should be, I wouldn’t even know.
A nurse came in to see if I was comfortable. Nine and a half minutes.
Why is it that even in the most extreme pain when someone asks how we are we say fine?
The nurses were having a great time of this, there was a minor celebrity in a private room and they all wanted to leave an impression. They offered sponge baths and all sorts of mysterious pleasures, much to the enthusiasm of the little head. Nurses’ uniforms must have been carefully unbuttoned outside my door to barely restrain the delights within and they all had to bend over in front of me for one reason or other. In one case it was a button too far and out came the goodies. The little tattoo near the nipple was of a swallow and it certainly made me gulp. There have been rumors that hospital food has additives to prevent men from getting erections but it did not show in Ward 3 South, bed 2. The nurses would look down and giggle and a couple offered to “help me with that”.
Tempting, but too hard to keep at a distance, no pun intended.
I thought about the accident two days ago and was waiting for the phone call that must follow. In the trucking game we had sorted ourselves out to four major companies and hundreds of smaller ones. I was of the opinion that everyone had an equal right to the business and if you wanted to expand you just had to do more and do it better. Andy was my chief rival among the top four, my best friend and we often had the same ideas. He was first into tankers, I was first into refrigerated but we both explored every market we could. He had to ring soon but the embarrassment of one of his trucks going through a red light and hitting first the brand new LTD driven by his competitor and then a police car must have been extreme. I expected many a free beer on the back of this but nothing could compensate the fact I was so far from home on the day Wendy was due.
It all revolved around Wendy. Wendy in the old Chevy, Wendy on the beach by the bay, Wendy in my bed at Doncaster, Wendy in a nurse uniform… Hang on, Wendy in a nurse uniform?
“Hello David.”
Wendy was standing next to the bed. She would be fifty-seven now and was still a knockout. No extra weight, the short nurses uniform showed a lot of very nice stocking clad leg, the zip was a bit higher than I was used to but still plenty to look at up front, she had a slight graying in the ponytail but still mostly her natural color and the faint lines on her face spoke of maturity, not wear. Wendy was still gorgeous.
“I… uh…” Why is it that a very articulate person can become so tongue tied in particular situations? “Wendy, you found me.” I finally managed.
“You certainly did try hard to hide.” She kept a perfectly straight face but there was a twinkle in her eye that told me she was joking.