Frieda Klein 2 - Tuesday's Gone Read Online Free Page B

Jasmine Barber as a
     fellow practitioner. They were on friendly terms and Dr Barber now looked awkward,
     finding it hard to meet Frieda’s eyes. The third member of the team was a squat,
     grey-haired woman in a violently pink jumper who was wearing a neck brace. Above it, her
     wrinkled face was shrewd and her grey eyes bright. Frieda thought she looked like an
     intelligent frog. She introduced herself as Thelma Scott. Frieda felt a tremor of
     interest: she had heard of Thelma Scott as a specialist in memory and trauma, but had
     never before met her. The only other person in the room sat at the far end of the table:
     she was there to take notes of the proceedings.
    ‘As you know, Dr Klein,’ said
     Professor Krull, glancing down at the sheets of paper in front of him, ‘this is a
     preliminary investigation into a complaint we have received.’ Frieda nodded.
     ‘We have a code of ethics and a complaints procedure to which as a registrant you
     have subscribed. Weare here today to investigate the complaint against
     you and to make sure that one of your patients has not been a victim of poor
     professional practice, and that you have behaved in a safe and appropriate manner.
     Before we begin, I need to make clear that none of our decisions or findings have the
     force of law.’ He was reading from the paper in front of him now. ‘Moreover,
     whatever we decide does not affect the right of the individual making the complaint to
     take legal proceedings against you, should they choose to do so. Do you
     understand?’
    ‘Yes, I do,’ said Frieda.
    ‘Also, this screening committee is
     made up of three psychotherapists who are here to give impartial professional
     consideration to the case. Have you any reason for doubting the impartiality of any of
     us, Dr Klein?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘You have chosen to have no
     representation.’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘Then we can begin. The complaint has
     been made by Mrs Caroline Dekker, on behalf of her husband Alan Dekker. You can confirm
     that Alan Dekker was your patient?’
    ‘Yes. I saw him in November and
     December 2009. I’ve written the dates of each session down.’ She brought out
     a typed sheet and slid it across the table.
    ‘Mrs Dekker claims that her husband
     came to see you in a state of acute distress.’
    ‘He was experiencing severe panic
     attacks.’
    ‘She also claims that, far from
     helping him, you used him as a –’ Krull looked down at his notes ‘– pawn in
     a police investigation. That you acted like a detective, not a therapist, casting
     suspicion on him, and indeed reported him to the police, making him a suspect in a case
     of child abduction, that you violated your pledge of patient confidentiality andfurthered your own career at the expense of his peace of mind and
     future happiness.’
    ‘Would you like to give us your
     version of events, Dr Klein?’ Thelma Scott, the elderly woman in the neck brace
     and ugly jumper, fixed Frieda with her sharp eyes.
    Now that this moment, which she had long
     dreaded, had at last arrived she felt calm. ‘Alan Dekker came to me in November
     because he was tormented by fantasies of having a child. He was childless himself,
     although he and his wife had been trying for some time to have a baby. So we talked
     about why his childlessness should cause not just grief but severe dysfunction. At the
     same time an actual child, Matthew Faraday, had disappeared. The child that Alan
     described – the one he had never had – was so like the boy who had disappeared that I
     felt I had to report it to the police. And then I told Alan what I’d
     done.’
    ‘Was he angry?’ asked Jasmine
     Barber.
    Frieda thought for a moment. ‘He
     seemed understanding, maybe even too much so. He found it hard to express anger. I found
     him to be a gentle, self-doubting kind of man. Carrie – Mrs Dekker – was angry on his
     behalf. She was very protective of him. It doesn’t surprise me that