Chapter Text
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single mental health trust in possession of a large deficit must be in want of a merger.
However little known the wishes of the patients and clinicians benefitting from the services of such trusts, repeated explorations of patient voice and staff surveys have expressed the wish for trusts to join in binding partnership. Indeed, the request has often been so strongly felt that at times the results have been known to commissioners even before the survey has been circulated.
“My dear Dr Bennet,” said his wife to him one day, bursting into his clinic after his admin had informed her of a DNA, “have you heard the news?”
Dr Bennet looked up from timeanddate.com, from which he had been calculating the number of days until his retirement. It was one of his favourite pastimes. He found the constantly reducing number most diverting.
“My dear,” he said to his wife, “I left the door slider marked to ‘Engaged’.”
“Miss Kitty told me you had a DNA,” his wife responded, sitting down.
A slight crease appeared between Dr Bennet's eyes. He picked up his phone and logged into Wordle.
“Are you not curious?”
Dr Bennet did not respond. Mrs Bennet saw this as her invitation to continue. In their decades of marriage, she had learnt to favourably interpret his micro-expressions.
“I thought you might have read the trust bulletin. It came out three days ago.” she said.
Dr Bennet raised an eyebrow. He had misjudged the placement of vowels, and now had only two tries left. He adjusted his pince-nez. “You know I have a rule to avoid such material.” he replied.
Mrs Bennet shifted in her seat. She did not like the blue plastic seats in Dr Bennet’s clinic room. They put creases in her white muslin gown. She detested looking unpresentable. Although a lady of over fifty summers passed, she always adhered to the Trust Regency dress code, unlike many of her younger colleagues, who often found scandalous ways to flaunt them, defying the clear strictures of the CQC, who only put such measures in place to ensure patient safety.
“I have it on good authority that there is to be a union.”
Dr Bennet sighed, and spun round on his chair to fully face her. “Who’s on strike now?”
“Lord, Dr Bennet, how curious your thought processes are. I am referring, of course, to the upcoming merger between North London Mental Health Trust and the Tavistock and Portman NHS Trust.”
Mrs Bennet was holding in her hand a booklet. Now she laid it on her lap on top of her fan. Dr Bennet noted the words Trust Values: Integrity, Reliability and Transformation.
“How does that concern us?” her husband enquired.
“It will be a great opportunity for us to learn and develop from each other’s expertise.”
He had got 4 green letters and a yellow one on his sixth attempt. He placed his phone down on his desk.
“Will there be cuts?” he asked.
Mrs Bennet opened her fan and fanned herself vigorously. “Why do you always have to be so difficult about everything. You know how it raises my anxiety. It’s very selfish of you.”
Dr Bennet looked at the clock on the wall above Mrs Bennet’s head. “I have a 4pm.”
“I feel my OCD symptoms coming back to me again.” his wife complained. She left the room, leaving the booklet on his desk.
He picked up the booklet and turned it over in his fingers. He folded it along the long edge and dropped it into the bin, feeling a pang of guilt for not carrying it to the recycling in the kitchen. He did not want to be drawn into any conversation there.
When they had first met when he was a registrar and she a fresh-faced newly qualified nurse, he had not known how effective his wife could be at working her way through the DSM. How she had managed to get to band 8c he would never know. Still, it was just operational management, not like she was doing anything important. Nevertheless, he mused, one could no longer afford a house in Muswell Hill on a consultant’s salary alone these days.
Dr Bennet opened his computer and logged into Rio again. Ten new urgent messages flashed up on his home screen, making a total of 417. He opened his email. Information governance had sent out this week’s staff compliance report.
He clicked delete on the unopened email.