Chapter 14: Gareth Chancelor, Monday

I was sitting with Estelle when a man came into her room a few minutes after 9:00am on Monday morning. He was short and stocky and I would guess somewhere in his 40s. His badge said Dr Nestry. He was carrying the standard clipboard.

He looked at his clipboard and he said, “Hi, my patient is supposed to be Estelle Chancelor. I’m hoping that’s you in the bed. Are you Estelle?”

Estelle nodded. “Yes, that’s me, I’m Estelle Chancelor.”

“Could you please tell me your birth date and your home address?” he said.

Estelle rattled off the information.

Dr Nestry grinned and made a mark on his clipboard. “Well that’s a relief. It’s always reassuring to know the paperwork’s in order. I’m Dr Nestry. I’m going to be doing your surgery later this morning. Are you Mr Chancelor?”

“Yes I am,” I said. “Please call me Gareth.”

“Splendid, Gareth,” he smiled at me and then turned to Estelle. “I believe the surgery was explained to you yesterday? Do you have any questions?”

Estelle shook her head.

“Dr Ainslee explained it all quite clearly,” I said.

“Good, good. I’ve been double-checking your scans. And as I believe Dr Ainslee explained, we tapped into a specialist in Sydney for confirmation of what we want to do. If you have any doubts, now’s the time to speak up.”

Estelle and I looked at each other and then Estelle said, “I want to do this.”

“Good, good. Before we start, I want to run a few tests to get a baseline of your physical responses.”

He then asked a series of questions about her vision, hearing, taste and so on. Then he ran through a set of tests, tapping up and down her body with a little soft-headed mallet and asking her to confirm what she could feel. Then he did some hand-eye coordination tests and so on.

He made a stack of notes on his clipboard and made occasional light-hearted comments about what he was doing. Eventually he was satisfied and tucked his clipboard under his arm.

“After the surgery, I’m going to run through all those tests again. The surgery is scheduled for 11:00am so the orderlies will come and collect you soon after 10:30 and take you up to the surgery area on the third floor. The nurses will then prep you and you’ll get a general anaesthetic which will knock you out for an hour or two depending on how the surgery goes. When you come to, it will all be over.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said.

Dr Nestry turned to me. “Gareth, there’s a waiting room up on the third floor,” he said. “Once Estelle goes into prep you won’t be able to see her again until she’s moved into Recovery. Quite honestly, there’s no value sitting there for all that time. I know what it’s like to be the one waiting and quite frankly, you’re better off finding something to do rather than simply sitting there.”

“Dr Puretti wanted to see me today,” I said.

His smile broadened. “Splendid, that should do nicely.”

He turned to Estelle. “I’ll come and visit you later today once you’ve had a chance to recover from the anaesthetic.”

“Thank you doctor,” said Estelle.

Dr Nestry left and we sat together and talked quietly for the next hour or so. I called through to Dr Puretti’s number and made an appointment for 11:00am. The orderlies came to take Estelle away and I kissed her and told her I’d see her later.

I walked into the little waiting area outside of Dr Benito Puretti’s office at 11:00am.

There was a little row of padded chairs and a fish tank with several tropical fish circling lazily among some fronds of seaweed and a sunken pirate ship that concealed the filter and aerator.

The inside door was closed and there was a sign on the door that said, “For appointments with Dr Puretti, see the nurse at the charge desk on this floor. If you have an appointment, please take a seat and enjoy the fish.”

I sat and watched the fish as they slowly circled around the tank. It was amazing how soothing they were.

After about 5 minutes, the inner door opened. Benito escorted a woman out who must’ve been at least 80 and possibly more.

“I’m already looking forward to our session next week,” he said to her. “Your visits are always the highlight of my week.”

She chuckled and waved him off. “Get away with you,” she said and trotted off down the hallway.

Benito turned and saw me sitting there. “Gareth! I’m so glad you could make it. Come in, come in.”

He led me over to a leather couch that sat in the corner of the room and curved through a quarter turn. The room had wood panelled walls and bookcases full of books. There was a desk with a computer and some framed pictures which were facing away from me so I couldn’t see the subjects. The wall behind the desk was papered with a range of children’s drawings of varying quality and a scattering of “thank-you” cards. There was a window that looked out over the town and under the window was a grouping of several bean bags and a tub with some children’s games and so forth. A few better-quality pencil drawings were framed and spaced about the room. One framed drawing above the couch looked like the Memorial Park near the girls’ school.

Benito picked up his notepad and we sat on the opposite ends of the couch so that we were half facing each other.

Benito smiled at me and he said, “I spent a lot of time listening to your family yesterday, but I didn’t hear a lot from you. I wanted to hear what you think about Estelle’s behaviour and how that’s affecting you and your relationships with Estelle and with your family.”

I blinked and looked at him. “Jennifer told you yesterday that she wanted to have sex with me. I’m surprised you don’t want to talk about that.”

Benito shrugged. “We can start there if you want. As I understand it, she came into your bedroom on the night of her birthday and asked you for sex and you said no.”

I nodded. “That’s right.”

“But you’ve allowed her to sleep in your bed since that night – with the emphasis on sleep.”

“Yes.”

“Jennifer told me that you ‘helped her out’ when she became highly agitated trying to masturbate.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Has anything else happened between the two of you?”

“No, that’s it.”

Benito nodded and looked away for a moment, then looked back at me. “Sexual penetration in any form between adult family members is illegal in this state. Consent is not a defence.”

“Oh.” I said.

Benito continued. “What you did for Jennifer when you masturbated her would seem to fall under that definition.”

“Does that mean you have to report me?” I asked

“Not at all. You’re both adults. I am required to report it if I believe a child is being molested but that’s not the case here. It would be unethical for me to talk to the police about activity between two adults. So, now that we have the legal part out of the way, what’s your thinking about the current situation with Jennifer?”

“Well,” I said. “I still refuse to have sex with her, by that I mean proper intercourse. But, those drugs have really done a number on her and it hurts me to see her in such pain.”

Benito nodded but didn’t say anything.

“I tried to keep the masturbation as impersonal as I could by holding her from behind. It seemed to help her. I’m not opposed to doing that again if she asks for it.”

“Okay,” said Benito.

“I wore my underwear while I was doing it. I hoped that would keep things contained. It worries me that I got erect despite everything.”

“It would worry me if you didn’t get an erection in that situation,” said Benito.

I blinked and looked at him in surprise.

“You’re a healthy, heterosexual male. She’s a nubile young woman. The two of you were in a highly charged sexual situation. An erection is a natural human response to such a situation. What you choose to do with the erection is more important than its mere presence.”

“I worried that Jennifer would be offended or disgusted or something,” I said.

“Did she appear offended or disgusted at the time?” he asked.

“Um, no,” I said. “She seemed happy, but I could’ve been misreading her.”

“Did she push away from you when she noticed your erection?”

“No, she pressed herself against me.”

Benito smiled. “That doesn’t sound like disgust to me. Quite the opposite in fact. By pressing against you she was engaging her sense of touch to confirm its presence without having to overtly acknowledge what was going on.”

“Oh,” I said.

“In the right circumstances, a woman can observe an erection and take it as an affirmation that she is sexually attractive and desirable. Such a thing can be a very powerful driver for a woman – even more so for a young woman who is unsure of herself. She can even become euphoric, particularly if the affirmation comes from someone important to her. You are currently the most important man in Jennifer’s life. Since she had such a positive reaction, she may try to provoke more such erections purely as a way of seeking further affirmation of her desirability.”

“Oh,” I said.

“What we’re discussing now isn’t sexual intercourse by anyone’s definition. But it is a level of physical intimacy that’s a step above what you’ve been used to. Jennifer did say to me how much she respected that you’re a man with limits and she didn’t want to cause you pain by pushing you beyond those limits.”

“Huh,” I said.

“I should warn you about one thing, however,” said Benito. “Most young people, up to and including Jennifer’s age, have a highly developed sense of fairness and I see no reason to believe that Jennifer is different. That sense of fairness can appear in a variety of ways and doesn’t always seem entirely rational to adults but from their viewpoint it’s logical and sensible and as clear as day. If they think something is unfair they can become quite aggrieved.”

“And so... ?” I asked.

“Jennifer knows you’re a man with limits, but you’ve bent far enough to allow yourself to masturbate her. She may want to ‘return the favour’ so to speak. And if you refuse to allow that, you may run into her sense of fairness. It might seem to her to be unbalanced for you to do that for her but not to allow her to do the same for you.”

“Oh,” I said. “What do you think I should do?”

He scratched his chin with the end of his pen and looked at me.

“I think that you should think very carefully about how you will react if that situation occurs. If you can avoid responding with anger, that would be good.”

I blinked at him. “You aren’t telling me whether I should or shouldn’t let her do that.”

He grinned at me and said, “No, I’m not.”

“Oh,” I said and looked down.

“Let’s change the subject,” said Benito. “Bonnie told me she has similar desires to Jennifer, though she wasn’t able to articulate them quite so clearly. She also told me that she was aware that she couldn’t do anything about them until she’s Jennifer’s age and that she was resigned to waiting until then.”

I sighed and nodded. “I wouldn’t have done anything anyway, but I’m glad to hear that she knows that.”

“Her comments seemed very mature for a girl that age. Based on what I’ve seen and heard, I don’t foresee any problems there. But let me be clear.”

He leaned forward and caught my eye. “If I have any reason to suspect that Bonnie has been involved in any sexual activity with you then I would be legally obliged to report that suspicion to the police and your life would become very messy. It doesn’t matter if she throws herself at you. It doesn’t matter if she begs or pleads or cries and believe me I know how persuasive and manipulative a preteen can be when they desperately want something. It must not happen. This is not me being subtle. This is not nudge-nudge-wink-wink say no more. This is me supporting you in the strongest way I can. Your instinctive reaction was to say you wouldn’t do anything with her and that is the only possible answer you can give. Anything else would be destructive. Too much of my time is spent with young people where adults in their life have crossed that line and the young person has become messed up as a result. I do not want Bonnie to join that group. Is that understood?”

“Yes, absolutely,” I said. “I hear you loud and clear.”

The way he said all that seemed to ease a pressure that I didn’t know I’d been feeling. I might not’ve been aware of it, but I had been worrying about Bonnie. Benito had made it simple for me. There was no decision to be made.

“Er, I think Bonnie told you that I smacked her. Am I in trouble for that?” I asked.

Benito shrugged. “There is such a thing as reasonable chastisement. Bonnie acknowledges that you never struck her excessively. That you did it on her bare backside could be an issue in some situations, but I don’t see it as a problem in this case. Personally, I’ve always found with small children that a single quick slap to the back of the legs is more effective and doesn’t have the sexual connotations. As children approach adolescence, I always strongly recommend that parents who do smack their children move away from smacking in any form. Denial of privileges is vastly more effective with adolescents.”

Then Benito smiled at me. “So, in answer to your question, no, I’m not going to get you into trouble for smacking Bonnie but maybe you shouldn’t keep doing that.”

Benito sat back and relaxed and smiled. “Good. Now that the easy stuff’s out of the way, let’s talk about your marriage.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Oh yes, that.”

“Last Friday, you and your daughters effectively voted to strip Estelle of her position as wife and mother and demoted her to the role of ‘little sister.’ May I say that’s an incredibly fascinating thing for all of you to do. I’ve never heard of that happening before. Estelle and the two girls have all given me their impressions of that evening. I would love to hear what was going through your mind when that was happening.”

“I’m not sure that I know what was going through my mind,” I said. “It was all a bit confusing. I said and did things on instinct without thinking them through or understanding why I was doing them. It felt completely out of control at the time.”

“Okay,” said Benito. “I can understand that. Looking back on it now, what are your thoughts about that night?”

“Ah, well. Until yesterday afternoon I would have said it was justified. Estelle had been getting more and more unreasonable and we had to do something to get through to her. And I had to protect the girls, particularly Bonnie, from what Estelle was turning into. I still don’t know if we did the right thing or not, but we had to do something. I feel terrible that I allowed the girls to tie Estelle up, but I have to admit that it forced her to stop and listen to what we were saying when nothing else seemed to work. And her behaviour since then has been confusing to say the least. She’s never really objected to the situation at all. I don’t understand what’s going on with her. Then yesterday we found out that she has a cyst pressing on her brain which might have been causing her to behave that way. Does that make what we did worse? I don’t know.”

“Estelle’s pattern of behaviour seems to be quite complex,” said Benito. “I don’t know if we can say it was all caused by the cyst. We’ll have to wait and see what, if any, changes of behaviour result from its removal. In the meantime, you can help me establish a base line. Take me back to the start. How did you meet? What was she like back then? Motherhood can change a woman. Did you see any changes when Jennifer was born?”

So I started talking. I talked about the early days when we were always happy to be together. I talked about more recent times. I spoke about how gradually Estelle had become more and more domineering and how that had grated with me. I talked about my own tendency to avoid conflict and my worry that by doing so I had left my daughters to deal with Estelle’s mood swings. I talked about seeing a TV program about Bipolar Disorder and wondering if Estelle had that. But then I’d looked up the definition of Bipolar on the internet and it didn’t seem to match what was happening with Estelle. I told Benito that I’d tried a number of times to encourage Estelle to go to a doctor but she’d refused over and over again.

Benito interrupted at that point. “To be clear, I haven’t seen anything to support the idea that Estelle has Bipolar Disorder. That involves bouts of clinical depression and then at least one manic episode. I haven’t heard anything to support the idea that Estelle has ever been clinically depressed. Her ‘down’ periods are more about being quiet and reserved and occasionally sad and often frustrated and sometimes holding in an anger that she couldn’t explain but not actually clinically depressed.”