Front cover for the story "Where do I belong?", the diary-report dr. Magda Heller wrote during the time she was working with The Flying Doctors. Magdaīs Diary: "The Flying Doctors", episode 170


Fri 2/2


David is away for the week. Gone fishing somewhere. It caused some staffproblems, because he had already promised Geoff to take charge of the base while he (Geoff) had to be in Sydney for a week. Funny idea by the way: he is the least qualified doctor around here, and still he gets to be in charge! No offence to him, of course! He is a very fine doctor: gifted, talented, loved by his patients and esteemed by his colleagues. Gentle, friendly and polite by nature, but firm and persistent when necessary for the benefit of his patients. A practically perfect doctor! And no matter how highly qualified dr. Reid is, he could learn a lot just by studying his "minor" colleague!

But to get back to the story: actually it was I who had suggested heīd take some time off. I just hadnīt expected heīd go and see Geoff the next morning to get that vacation right now and immediately... It makes me feel a little bad. I mean: I know heīs been under quite a strain lately. Just think about the way heīs been coming over to my place to let off some steam after yet another argument with Guy. Thatīs not like him at all, but it seems he needs it lately. But itīs not like the usual chivalrous David, who always tried to protect and shield me from problems. Instead it seems he needs me now to help him cope with his own problems, because he canīt deal with them all by himself anymore. They seem to be growing over his head. Probably even more than I realized; why else would he have requested that time off so immediately? I feel so sorry for him. Iīm worried, too. I really hope heīll manage to get back on his mental feet again this week.

But okay. That left Geoff with a problem. I suppose he told Geoff, too, about what is bothering him, for otherwise I donīt think Geoff would have granted him that time off right now. So later today, Geoff called me into his office, and told me that David Magda Heller and Geoff Standish (Melita Jurisic and Robert Grubb) in The Flying Doctorsneeded some time off for private reasons (ha, as if I didnīt know that... funny how people donīt notice things that are going on right under their noses), and if I could take charge of the base during the week, starting tomorrow. I was flattered that he asked me to do it, but then, Iīve had more experience around here than Guy. Not much, but... Geoff did point out to me that it would be a busy week, since weīd be down to two doctors. But David and I managed pretty well last November, too, didnīt we? And Kate had told me last week that when she started working here, there was only one doctor, later on there were two, and then three, and only very recently they have expanded to four doctors. So we should be able to hold the fort with two for a week, I think. Geoff said that the district had increased in size quite a bit, too, but I think we ought to manage for a week. Itīs only eight days. And David really needs that break, so...

Bad thing is that Iīm stuck with Guy here. Itīs going to be a week full of arguments, I suppose... Tiring... If you only have one colleague around, itīs a bit hard to ignore him. At least Iīve been able to cope with him - up till now. I loath of his attitude, too, like most people around here, I believe. That īknow-bestī and those silly, stupid jokes and that macho īoh, Iīm so irresistableī-look. But I believe Iīm better equiped to deal with him than David is at the moment. David in charge of Guy... that would end up in war, with - in the state he is in now - definite defeat on the Ratcliffe side. Iīd have to be mediator all day long, and still have a full-time job comforting and calming down David. No, I think itīs for the best the way things have worked out now. Though I am not all that sure that Guy will accept me as his senior either... Oh well. Weīll manage. Survive. As long as I keep in mind why I have to put up with him on my own, Iīll be able to handle it.

Poor David. I hope heīll come back with that twinkle in his eyes, and with that constant frown wiped away. I comfort you in my thoughts, my dear little flying fisherman... Good night and sleep tight.


Sat 3/2


My first day in charge of the base! Well, nothing much happened, but still... Itīs Guyīs weekend off, and with David suddenly away, too, the task fell upon me to be on duty both today and tomorrow. But everything was so quiet, that I could have got bored if there wasnīt this mountain of paperwork to attend to. So the day has been spent in a very useful manner. Though I must say there are more enjoyable ways to fill oneīs shift...


Sun 4/2


Quiet day again today. No emergencies, no problems at the hospital. If things are to run as smoothly as this all week, I think I could even send Guy on a holiday, too, and run the place by myself!

But it feels strange that I wonīt see David for a whole week. Itīs sort of not right that heīs not around somewhere. I miss him already. So in want of some company, I went to the pub tonight. It felt awkward, going in there alone. Usually Iīd have David with me; sometimes someone else from the base. Strange how quickly one gets used to these things. In Germany I had grown totally accustomed to enter just about anywhere alone without the least awkwardness. Itīs like Iīve lost some of my independence here, and Iīm not quite sure whether I like that development.

Luckily, Johnno was there. And so was Clare, and Guy and Jackie. But Johnno was the first one to take notice of me (for it sure does feel a bit awkward to just blend in myself in other peopleīs conversations; another thing I seem to have unlearned), and he invited me for a game of billiards. But both my knowledge and my skills of the game are so poor, that he and Jim ended up teaching me the game instead. We had some good laughs; a pretty good time. But Iīll need a lot more practice to master the game properly...


Mon 5/2


There, Iīve managed to make up a very desirable bargain with Guy tonight. He wanted to swap shifts, so that he could have the day off tomorrow instead of Friday and take out one of the girls we picked up at the clinic to the lakes. At first I refused. I had made plans for tomorrow, too: there is this big summerfair over in Windoona this week. I had hoped to pass a merry evening there with David (Iīve discovered that such things are definitely more fun when you have company), but now that heīs away, I thought I might as well go and check it out by myself. It would be a nice change in the daily routines, and itīs not like I lack the experience to amuse myself on my own.

But okay, to get back to the story: Guy instantly took out his wallet and inquired how much I wanted to be persuaded/bribed to give him what he wants. (I wonder if he has ever been denied anything at all...) Imagine that: poor little Guy, whoīs always broke and always borrowing money from everyone, wanted to bribe me - with my fat bankaccount back in Germany - with money! I just couldnīt help laughing, and told him that there are things in life you canīt buy with money. Love, for example. Nor the heart of that English girl he wanted to take out - that is, if she has any sense. It brought him instantly on his usual path of flirtation around ladies, and as I teasingly played along for a moment I got this brilliant idea... So I said: "So you want the day off tomorrow? Then you must promise me something."

"Anything," was his confident reply.

But when I told him in a whisper what I wanted in return - something I want just as badly as he wanted his day off - he shook his head in disgust and grunted: "Never!"

Oh well, then I would not take over his shift tomorrow, I said. I was pretty sure heīd take the bait, and fortunately he did. So heīs got the day off tomorrow to take out this girl. And I will have an entire week without arguments, which will help a great deal in surviving this week with Guy. Perfect! Thatīs worth an extra long workweek!

For as a matter of fact, I was already getting tired of him. The first day this week we were actually working together, and already we managed to fight a few times...

We were over at the Lundellīs today. Usually itīs a two dayīs clinic, but this time it was crammed into one day with two doctors, for we canīt really afford to have one of us out of reach for two days. Jackie got called away halfway the day to attend to an infant that had been bitten by a snake, and everyone had a good laugh when Guy was tilting his chair and lost his balance.

It were Johnno and Jackie who picked up those two stranded English girls. Johnno and Guy were busy slobbring all over them, when we all got a good scare. All of a sudden a young man on a motorbike appeared. He didnīt even try to brake; with a roar he just crashed into the outhouse! Jackie and I were at his side in a moment. (Guy didnīt even bother... or perhaps he was too shocked?) When we had brought him inside, it turned out he had - as far as we could tell without x-rays - but a few bruises from the crash, but also a terrible appendicitis. Two weeks old at least, and the spot was so tender that it was probably very close to rupturing. I didnīt want to take the risk to fly him back to the Crossing first; then he wouldnīt get the operation for another three hours, and it was quite likely that we didnīt have that long. Now Guy was really shocked: "You canīt operate out here! Nothing is sterile!" It felt funny, and actually quite good, that this time I was the one who had already gotten used to such primitive measures, and my colleague was all astonishment and disbelief. An exchange of the roles for a change!

I cut short the argument by preparing for an operation under local anaesthetic. Guy assisted, sort of "under protest", but indeed: it was one of the worst appendicitises Iīve ever seen. If we had waited half an hour, it would have been too late.

Well, heīs safe in hospital now, and from what I hear from Kate, very quickly on his way to full recovery...


Tue 6/2


Guy drives me MAD, MAD, MAD!!! We got a young lady in today that might have yellow fever. MIGHT!! Chances arenīt that big, since she had been vaccinated for it, which leaves her with a mere 5% chance to catch it. Unless the vaccin had accidentally been heated. Something which any doctor in any hospital knows is the worst thing to do with vaccinations, so chances for that arenīt really astonishing big either. She got the shot in England after all, not in the African jungle. But when I pointed this out to him, along with a just as serious and - theoretically - more likely option of a sickness of the immune-system, he took on his arrogant suit and haughtily tried to put me in my place. How can he be so sure? Both options are possible, but if we treat her for the yellow fever, sheīll die from the reaction the treatment will cause in case she has some immune-system disease. And if instead we treat her for that, the treatment will kill her if she suffers from yellow fever instead. So itīs of vital importance to know what weīre dealing with here. But no, Mr. Guy knows everything best, and he will determine that itīs yellow fever without even having the girl tested properly! Horrible man. Heīs so pleased with himself that heīs deliberately risking a patientīs life! And to make things worse: the other girl overheard us arguing about it and is now scared to death no matter what we say!

I was so worked up and fed up with him, that now it was I who needed to let off some steam. Which I did with Clare, but she didnīt exactly seem very pleased with having to serve as my exhaust-valve. Well, okay, I know what itīs like, with David doing the same with me lately, but still... When she had had enough of it, she simply advised me to either leave the patient to dr. Reid (who in fact is responsible for the girl) and let it be (and see him kill her?!), or take my stand as his senior doctor and override his decision.

Well, the first one was definitely no option with me. I will not stand aside when a colleague of mine is killing his patient just to prove to me that heīs right. If only he could understand that this has nothing to do with proving him right or wrong! It is commonly known that the symptoms the girl is showing can be caused by both these diseases, and that treatment for the wrong disease will kill the patient! All I want is to make sure that we treat her for the right disease, in that way eliminating the risk of her unnecessary demise, and so saving her life! Guy can be right; Iīm not denying that he can be. But itīs also possible that he is not, and then his stubbornness will lead to a fatal result. If only he would admit that! Practicing medicine is not a fight over who is right or wrong. It is a fight for your patientīs life. No more, no less. And if that craves a risky liverbiopsy, then so be it. It has to be done to determine the disease, for if we donīt know for sure what weīre dealing with, the risks for losing the patientīs life are far greater.

I feel like David, when he had to fight that old dr. Miller in Burragunya a couple of months ago. To save a patientīs life, too, because dr. Miller refused to test his patient properly. It feels the same. To me itīs like Guy is using īhit or miss treatmentī (as David called it) as well. How can he do that?! How can he put the patientīs life at such a risk? Doesnīt he have any sense of responsibility at all?! I mean: why did he take her out to the lakes in the first place, when he himself had examined her and done some tests on her. So he knew she wasnīt fit! Sometimes itīs like Iīm doing my job with a pigheaded 5-year-old with an attitude of being a top-doctor.

At times like these you realize that we really need a third doctor here. An impartial second (third) opinion. Iīm 100% sure that both David and Geoff would back me up and request that liverbiopsy to be done before deciding on the treatment. But David is down with some lake or stream with his fishing-rod, and Geoff couldnīt be contacted today. So in the end I had but one option left: override dr. Reidīs judgement and perform that liverbiopsy myself. But just when I had gotten the girlīs permission, and went away to fetch the necessary equipment, Guy spotted me. I was determined to get on with it, and at least he surprised me in a positive way by saying that if I insisted on doing this, he could at least assist me as best he could. For his repeated remark on the dangers of this biopsy I almost got mad again, though. I mean: what use is there in upsetting the patient when it is of vital importance that she will hold still?! I already had told her that there was some danger involved, but that it was necessary to save her life. His remarks on my possible mishits I managed to ignore. Upsetting myself when Iīm on the brink of doing a liverbiopsy is the last thing I need. And not until later I got angry about his distrust in my abilities. Sexist problems again, no doubt.

Well, the biopsy is being tested in the laboratory in Broken Hill right now, and tomorrow morning weīll probably have the result. And then at least we will be able to treat the girl in a responsible manner. Knowing what weīre doing. Thatīs the very least she may expect from a qualified doctor, Iīd say...


Tue 6/2, later that evening


Besides all the fuss about that liverbiopsy, Guy said something else to me today that really upset me. And even though I am convinced it is nothing but complete nonsense, right now I am wondering whether - from his point of view - he might have had reason to believe this true.

Iīve been thinking and thinking here, but I canīt seem to make it out. So I decided to write it down. That usually helps to sort out my mind. Itīs getting late, but with these thoughts tormenting me, I could not sleep anyway, so Iīve locked myself in the office.

Tonight, when we were arguing about that liverbiopsy again, Guy insisted that I was the one creating the problems here, instead of him. That there was nothing wrong with his diagnosis, and that I only kept going on about this liverbiopsy with the sole purpose of attracting his attention. Because I would be jealous; I would feel that I didnīt get enough of his attention now that he was going on with the other English girl.

That thought struck me like a blow. It had never even entered my mind. And at first I was quite dumbfounded. Where did he get that idea from?

I didnīt see any point in pursuing the matter at the time though. I mean: a discussion like that can only end in an endless doch-nicht, and that would get us nowhere anyway. His thoughts against mine; who is able to determine what is the truth? And after all: I didnīt see why private matters had to be dragged into a professional disagreement about a patient.

No, now I am being unfair. As far as I recall, it was I who started accusing him of drooling over Trish (the other English girl) at the expense of his attention devoted to the ill Katherine. Something that already irritated me when we met them yesterday at the Lundellīs, and that culminated today with his irresponsible behaviour in taking her (and Trish) out to the lakes when he himself had examined her and determined that she wasnīt fit. I think the way he was drooling over her now - even though I may have called him out of that quicker than was strictly necessary - was just too much. And since Iīve known him with that kind of behaviour ever since I first met him, to me it didnīt seem an unjustified reproach. It still doesnīt. I had never before said it to himself, but his īirresistableī attitude, assuming that every woman age fifteen and up in a range of 2000 miles will just go weak at the knees at the mere thought of dr. Reid has disgusted me from the very beginning. He could be a very good doctor; he certainly does have the gift. If only heīd let go of that eternal arguing, and that macho īoh, Iīm so irresistableī attitude. But I donīt see what cure could help here...

Anyway, to get back to the problem: from what I have heard from my colleagues and from the people in town, I think there would be few to disagree with me on his general behaviour. When it comes down to his behaviour towards Trish and Kath - especially todayīs behaviour - that is of course mainly my interpretation against his, but seen in the light of his general behaviour, I still believe that my remark was not unjustified. Whether it was a wise remark is another question... It might seem that Iīm looking for excuses, but even my patience has its limits. And when I see (my interpretation!) my ladykiller-colleague let his patient run a huge risk in order to either prove his point to me or to have time to drool over a pretty girl, I can lose my patience, too. After all, I am no saint.

To summarize it: I really believe that I had reason to reproach him on this score. I admit that I canīt look inside his head and that this might all be a misunderstanding: that his motives are different from what I assume them to be. But now Iīm left with the question what on earth has given him the idea that I would be jealous of all the attention heīs paying to Trish! He didnīt actually say it, but it is but a little step to assume that he believes that Iīm in love with him! Why else would I be jealous of his attentions to Trish?!

The mere thought of me being in love with Guy seems prepostrous to me. Ridiculous. But he sounded serious. Not like it was just a made-up counterattack to win the argument.

This leaves me with a double task. I think I owe him that much if he really believes what he said. (A lot of trying to fathom other peopleīs thoughts tonight... with the eternal danger of interpreting them totally wrong...) First Iīll have to try and put aside my opinion about his presumption, and honestly try to determine whether there could be a hint of truth in what he said: that I indeed was jealous, and perhaps even (a little) in love with him. And then Iīll have to try and figure out when and where I could have given him reason to believe that. The second task doesnīt seem too hard; all it requires is going through our īrelationship`. But the first... Iīll try it as best I can. Perhaps putting my opinion about the person Guy Reid into words might help. And then try and concentrate on the good sides... Okay, here we go...

No doubt that Guy is a gifted doctor. Like they told us at university: you canīt learn to be a good doctor; it is a gift. And Guy definitely has that gift. Further he could be described as pretty handsome: his goldcoloured hair and steelblue eyes. Well built, obviously a regular visitor of the gym. He is obstinate (in itself not a bad quality), and doesnīt beat around the bush when youīre discussing with him. And he did show that there is a friendly, maybe even nice guy underneath that skin when Clare had lost everything in the fire.

Believe it or not: this is all I have managed to think of in nearly half an hour. Now does the enumeration of these qualities indicate a hint of my love for him?

I am really doing my best to be honest with myself, but I really donīt see it. I donīt find any trace of even friendship towards him. Let alone love. On the contrary: my negative emotions concerning him are so abundant that Iīm close to disdaining him. Now can that be explained by love?! I donīt think so. For he may have eyes of a beautiful colour, the look in them makes my alarm bells go off warningly: watch it, this guy is not to be trusted! And he may be blessed with the doctoring gift, but his arrogant attitude seems to spoil that image completely. He acts like a playboy, with apparently no other goal in life than sweeping as many pretty girls off their feet as he possibly can. There may be a nice guy underneath, but I havenīt seen that one coming out in the open very often the past month. He may be a good doctor, but I wouldnīt trust my valuables with him. He may be a good doctor, but his eternal arguments are disrupting the working atmosphere. And he may be a good doctor, but he is so pleased with himself that he doesnīt even seem to notice what effect his riotous behaviour has on his colleagues. David in particular, who doesnīt seem to be able to function properly under such strained circumstances in the very team, the very place that used to be the īhomeī of our work. A place where we could trust each other, where we could ask for help, where everyone had a single mind about our duty: to help people with all our might, and to be loyal to each other. That is how it used to be. And now all of that seems to have gone. Disappeared. And as far as I can tell, thatīs mainly Guyīs doing. Nowadays, both the base and the hospital seem to be the most stressed places in town. We have to go on our toes all the time, always on the guard for criticism and arguments. And to be completely honest: I would rather see Guy leaving today than tomorrow, even though it would mean Iīd have to be on a 24h shift for the rest of the week. Iīd really wish heīd do us that favour, for it is really upsetting to see how the place has changed since he joined the staff. Yes, I feel I could dance with sheer joy at the thought of him disappearing and the return of the old, pleasant working atmosphere! And Iīm pretty sure that would get David back on his mental feet, too, and a lot quicker than a seven weekīs vacation with his fishing rod ever would. So I think I may safely conclude that I do not love dr. Guy Reid. (Who may in practice not be such a good doctor after all: failing to notice the consequences of his behaviour on his colleagues...)

Well, Iīve read it over again, and I really believe Iīve been honest with myself. So at least on that point I can look Guy straight in the eye. (Not that I think it worthwhile or even necessary to present him with the outcome of my reverie, but itīs good for me to have straightened this out in my mind. That means I can leave it behind me now. Writing it down really helps!)

Okay, then the second part! (It is half past twelve a.m., but with this on my mind, I probably couldnīt sleep anyway, so Iīll just continue writing to sort it out.) I have come to the conclusion that I do not love Guy. So where has he got the idea from that I do? Weīll just go through our īrelationshipī (too grand a word for it, but I canīt think of a better one) and see if Iīve given him reason to believe it.

I remember that my first reaction upon meeting him was vexation. The look in his eyes and the very tone in which he asked Clare to be introduced to me seemed to show nothing but a sexual interest in an attractive woman. Not that I have anything against men finding me attractive, but not in this way. Not when meeting me as his new colleague. Not that obvious and exaggerated. The alarm bells rang lustily! My mood changed rapidly to happiness when I found out that he had been skiing in Bavaria several times. And thatīs the only reason I asked him to join me for dinner that evening: to be able to share some memories of snow and skiing and my former hometown after four months in the heat and the dust of the Outback. If that gave him the impression that he instantly swept me off my feet, he is in great need of a crashcourse in immigrant psychology! And besides: weīve never had dinner or lunch together after that first time, not even of a slump. So...

Or... if he did find me so attractive at first sight... could it be that he is in love with me instead, and trying to make me jealous in order that I will come to him? No... this is going too far... Letīs not make this even more complicated, please...!

Well, whatīs next? Iīve worked together with him a couple of times: at the base, the hospital, clinics... But my openmindedness īin favour or againstī the newcomer pretty soon subsided for vexation and irritation on behalf of his behaviour, as I recall. Maybe too soon, that I didnīt give him a fair chance? Ever since, Iīve been trying to avoid him (or if that was not possible: to ignore him) as much as I could. It wasnīt until this week that we were really thrown into each otherīs way.

Just wondering: what if he considers my avoiding him as a game of īhard to getī? Some people are that complicated... Well, it is a possibility, but I donīt see how that could be solved. The more I will deny it, the more heīll believe I want him! Pretty hopeless case...

And this week... well, as far as I can account for my own motives, I dare to state that Iīve only been arguing with him out of concern for the patients. That I didnīt want this Toshi guy to die on the way to the hospital due to a busted appendix. That I donīt want this girl to die because she is treated for the wrong illness. From my point of view thatīs all it was. Bad enough that it was necessary, but apart from my general irritation about his chasing the ladies culminating in an impatient outburst, Iīm sure there was no hidden agenda there, either.

And then there was his wish to swap shifts yesterday, so he and Johnno could go out with the two English girls. Could it be that...? I remember having said something like: īYou canīt buy love, nor English girlsī, when he wanted to pay me to swap shifts. Could it be that... it couldnīt... Could it? That he assumed that I meant he could not buy my love?

I can scarcely believe it. Do we have to be so extremely careful with our words when he is around? Or am I missing some nuance in the language again? That I said more than I intended to?

Well, I donīt seem to find a satisfactory answer here. The only somewhat plausible explanation I can come up with, is that he interprets my efforts to avoid and ignore him as forthcoming from my love for him. Not much I can do about that without making it even worse, except hoping that he, too, is going through his mind at this very moment, discovering for himself that my avoiding him might have other motives than he presumed. Or perhaps I should try and play along, so that he himself can discover that he doesnīt want me. Or just seduce him and then dump him. Now that would probably be a novelty to him!

No... I think Iīd better let be. That might work in books and movies, but I donīt have much faith in such schemes in real life. Anyway, I donīt think Iīd be very convincing pretending to love or even like him when my feelings are so much the opposite... When this week is over, Iīd much rather go back to avoiding and ignoring him.

Itīs getting really late. I should go home and to bed, I reckon. Itīs been taking up quite some time, all this going through my conscience. A pity I spent so much time thinking about a person like Guy, but at least I can safely say now that whatever he presumes about my feelings for him, I have never deliberately given him reason for that. So I donīt have to blame myself.

I really should go to bed, but Iīd rather end the evening (eh... halfway into the night) with happier thoughts. Perhaps I could write down my opinion about David? Sort of a comparison. Now that should make crystal-clear whom the object of my love is!

When I think about my feelings for David, words simply come flooding to me... I was intrigued by David from the very first moment I saw him. His lively, sparkling eyes, his kindness and his chivalry towards me nearly instantly swept me off my feet. With David I can be the person I am. Heīs my mate. We are equal. We can chat and laugh and discuss and cry and tease and get angry with each other, but he accepts me the way I am. And I accept him the way he is. (At least the way he is showing to me, but I think thatīs pretty much how he is.) I feel at ease with him. At home. I donīt have to be on my guard. I donīt have to prove anything. I can just be myself, and still weīre having a good time together. He knows me better than anyone has known me for years. We havenīt exactly been on the fast track with a smashing love affair, but I prefer his company above anyone elseīs, and the way heīs been going on since we met, I think his feelings are somewhat similar, if not equal.

I love him. And now that Iīm contemplating about it: I havenīt been so happy since I was little child without a care in the world. I love him. I really love David. And my dearest wish right now is for us to build a future together. I want to be with him. Every day of my life. Nearly thirty-four years of my life I have wasted without him. I donīt want to waste another day! I have so much love to give. I want to give it all to him. To David. All of it. To love and to be loved. I would not hesitate for a split second if heīd ask me to marry him. An exciting, wonderful fantasy! And then perhaps go somewhere together. Somewhere quiet. To make love under the stars, his soft tender hands stroking my body... Need I say more?

David, I love you. I long for you. Coopers Crossing is like a ghosttown without you. Just as lonely. I havenīt felt this lonely since that first night when I quietly left the pub. It disappeared as soon as you showed up by my side, and never since have I felt lonely again here. As long as I can have you beside me. With me. Then I donīt think I have anything left to wish for in my life. As long as I can have you. I love you. I have no other wish than to make you happy; to be with you. I miss you.

I donīt believe Iīve ever before gone this far in my dreams and fantasies. Definitely not in the written ones. But Iīve read this īconfessionī through once again (it just came streaming out of my pen), and every word of it is the truth. Straight from my heart. I am in love with David. In love with David Ratcliffe. And no other man can ever break that up.

Funny to experience how easy this panegyric comes out, and how happy it makes me to write words like these. Some difference with my struggle to find something positive to say about Guy, hey? If that doesnīt say enough... My heart is filled with love for David, and as far as Iīm concerned, Guy may go to ****!

I really should go to bed, but I enjoy writing about David too much... I feel like I could go on writing on that subject till morning comes, but I doubt whether that would be wise. Still, a little more wonīt hurt. Itīs late already, so... Because right now I would love to take the car and go and look for him. And when I would find him, sitting there on the shore, concentrating on his float, Iīd sneak up to him from behind and all of a sudden throw my arms around him. And all that accompanied by those four magical words I have never before dared to say to him:


David, I love you!


And then heīd look me in the eye, his face slowly brightening with the dawning apprehension that I really do return his feelings, and then heīd pull me in his arms and kiss me passionately till the sun would come over the horizon... Weīd watch the sunrise, he would get the fire going and roast some of the fish heīd caught. And weīd have a divine breakfast together, no matter how much I shudder for fish for breakfast! And if, in the middle of that delight, heīd remind me that I had to get back to the hospital to get to work, Iīd simply say that duty can go fishing (or something a bit stronger perhaps), for that I would never leave his side again!

Oh David... if I had but a vague notion about where you have gone, I think I would do it. I feel up to it now. On top of the world! I love you!

But knowing that you can be anywhere within a range of 300, 400 kilometers or even more, it doesnīt seem to make much sense to go looking for you. Not at night. Maybe Iīll give it a go on my day off Friday, hoping my lucky star will simply lead me to you. So long (or if I donīt find you: till Sunday) Iīll just keep on dreaming whenever I get the chance. (After all, I canīt let my patients suffer from my love for you, can I?) And try and work out the way Iīm going to tell you the great news to perfection.




I love you, David. I miss you, and I long for you with all my heart. And if you feel the same way about me, Iīm never going to let you go again!

I believe my writing is turning into romantic drooling... Itīs getting late. 2.53 a.m. Mind you, when I get home Iīll just continue swooning over you, and hopefully have some delightful dreams about us. You and me. Together.

Good night, my little flying fisherman! I love you!


Wed 7/2


Liebe Zeit, this was hilarious! Iīm still laughing when I think about it! Iīll try and write down what was said and what happened as precisely as possible, so when I reread this diary in ten, twenty years time, Iīll still remember every detail!

It started this morning. Kath wasnīt getting any better yet, and Guyīs eternal tendency to prove that heīs right appeared to be contagious, for I got carried away, too, and wanted to start treating the girl with steroids. He caught me before I got in, and we were arguing about it (whatīs new...) when Clare came rushing in with the biopsyreport that had just come in from Broken Hill. And the report said that Guyīs diagnosis was right.

At that moment it felt like Guy had won and I had been defeated. With a triumphant smile he went off to tell Kath, and I went over to the base to be on my own for a little while to get over the disappointment of having to acknowledge that my judgement had been inferior to Guyīs.

Fortunately I managed to get over those thoughts pretty quickly. After all: winning or losing is not what this was about. The only thing that matters is that we now know what disease the girl has, so we can treat her properly. And even though Guy was right in his diagnosis, I was still right in requesting that biopsy to be done to confirm that diagnosis, and to make sure that it wasnīt some sort of auto-immunedisease we were dealing with. So in a way we won both, if we now have to follow his line of thinking: I was right in requesting the biopsy to avoid hit or miss treatment, and he was right with his yellow fever.

A couple of very quiet hours passed. We saw each other a couple of times, but we didnīt exchange as much as a yes or no. I saw Clare looking at us sometimes. Worried. And with good reason, too, I suppose, if Iīll continue to shower my steam off over her... Well, not now.

For I figured that Guy and I had to re-establish some kind of a working relationship. I mean: itīs great when he ignores me, for it saves me from a lot of arguing, but when weīre only two, we have to have some kind of communication to be able to do our work properly. And since Iīve always considered a deserved apology a good way of making up a fight, I decided that I should apologize to him for a) my getting carried away this morning, wanting to treat Kath with steroids (lucky he caught me...), and b) the invadent manner in which I imposed upon him with my diagnosis. If I had stayed calm then, he might have taken the patience to hear me out, instead of going on about being right and my unwanted interference. He was right in supposing that his drooling over Trish (not only at that moment, but also the day before; like Jackie said: "When men see a female, they forget about their responsibilities and turn into boys") was the thing that actually triggered my anger, no matter how prepostrous his ideas were on the reasons for my anger. But if I had managed to stay calm then, it might have saved us a lot of arguing and a lot of problems. So I figured I had something to apologize for. And I hoped heīd get the hint and make some apologies, too, if none other for that hit or miss treatment method he applied. That should get us back on speaking terms again, I figured.

It did. But not exactly the way I had in mind... Read on and shudder...

The next time I heard him coming into the base (it was already late in the afternoon, but I preferred to speak with him there, rather than in the ever busy hospital), I went straight to him. He was in the store-room, filling up his medical bag. I looked around the door, and when he saw me, I went to stand in the doorway.

"You were right with your diagnosis," I started. But making and remembering speeches has never been my forte. Especially when someone is looking at me so arrogantly... So I looked down, trying to find the words to continue. But he was too quick for me, and enquired: "Is that all you are going to say to me?"

Instantly annoyed with his attitude again, I snapped back: "Is that all you have to say to me?"

There was that stupid, smirking smile again, and he said almost jubilant: "Like: īI told you soī?"

I sighed. "Exactly." We were back on the old track again...

We continued talking (at least something was achieved...) about how his smiles and smirks and never being serious got on my nerves sometimes. But he only responded with an overly exaggerated īIīm sorryī. So exaggerated that I can hardly believe he meant one syllable of it. His fallacy was already getting me worked up again, and I had hardly even had a chance to say what I wanted to say, and to apologize!

But then, all of a sudden, an insight struck me... Like a lightning flash, I got an idea that might turn Guy into a real, human doctor, to the benefit of his patients as well as his colleagues. It was as if I instinctively knew what to do: I walked slowly towards him, gazing up in his eyes, as to hypnotize him. "I know what youīre like," I said with my īmysteriousī deep voice. "You pretend not to care about anything, but deep down inside you do."

Melita Jurisic as dr. Magda Heller in The Flying DoctorsGood thing I was in a dramaclub when I was in high school, for the momentary dumbfounded expression on his face nearly made me burst out laughing! Still, he managed to stick with his flirtatious habits, and asked if that was meant as a compliment or as an insult. But I didnīt want to give him the chance of diverting my plans again, so I continued (still in my deepest voice; he must be thinking Iīm some kind of a medium now!): "My professor always said that you canīt learn to be a good doctor. It is a gift. And you have that gift."

At that moment I realized that I had to put some action into this performance. Action that would make him remember the words as well. I had to decide instantly of course, and I decided Iīd give him a kiss. (Something I donīt think heīd really expect from the professional Dr. Heller he knows.) So I took his face in my hands, and kissed him full on the mouth. His face was worth a picture when I let go of him! Astonished, dumbfounded, stunned, shocked...!

David Reyne as dr. Guy Reid in The Flying DoctorsAnd then I put in the clue: "Such a pity about the wrapping paper..."

I gave him a last, sturdy look and walked out of the room. Biting my lip as soon as I turned away from him, for I felt a fit of laughter coming on. But I managed to save it till I was outside, where I hurried around the corner of the base and nearly cried for laughing against the wall. Oh, that face... hilarious! I still canīt help laughing when I bring it back to my mind! I nearly laughed my head off!

He didnīt come after me, and I must say he was rather quiet and even a little shy tonight. Guy and shy, thatīs a new combination! Well, letīs hope this will work out for the best. That it may become one little step of the many heīll have to take to become a normal, human doctor. For what I said is true: he sure does have the doctoring gift. There is just so much wrapping paper in the way that it doesnīt come out. I suppose he could even be a nice guy if heīd let go of that arrogant attitude and that eternal interest in ladies. But allright, thatīs for the future. We canīt expect miracles overnight, can we? But I do hope I have given him something to think about. Hopefully it works!

PS: Perhaps I should try these tactics on David some time! Well, not the lecture of course (not this one), but the acting part. It might be a successfull way of - finally - stealing a kiss from him! And, if nothing else, to feel what itīs like to kiss him myself! And who knows what might come out of it... Maybe it would be a good way of telling him that I love him!


Thu 8/2


Two more arguments with Guy today. So far yesterdayīs drama hasnīt helped much, it seemed. Well, they were not as fierce and as life-threatening as earlier this week, but still... It makes you wonder why he argues about everything and has a very hard time accepting that people can have other opinions than his. Who knows, perhaps itīs just a bad habit...

Anyway, it didnīt bother me all that much. Iīm in such a happy mood, that nothing can disturb me for long. Johnno even asked me if I had won the lottery or something; he thought me unusually happy!

No, nothing of the kind. Iīve only made up my mind about what I want out of life. And resolved that Iīm going to take charge of my life once more. It worked out fine when I decided to leave Germany, so why not take the matter in hand myself again? I donīt have to wait for David to declare his love for me; I can take the first step just as well! Sure, it would be easier (for me) if he would, but if he finds that just as "creepy" as I do, we might be doomed to continue in this half-hearted īfriendship-or-maybe-something-moreī-relationship for years to come. And to think that we might be so happy together as a real couple instead!

So even though the thought of having to tell him that I love him gives me the creeps, my resolve that I really and honestly do want him, and if he doesnīt tell me soon, I will tell him so... it simply lifts my spirits sky-high and nothing can really disturb my good humour today!

Nevertheless, Guy still owes me a week with no arguments. He got his day off, so Iīm going to hold him to his side of the bargain as well! And only these past few days have been so brimfull with arguments, that it wonīt possibly do as the redemption of that promise. So Iīve come up with a plan!

Iīve got the day off tomorrow, and since Iīm going to look for David, Guy wonīt have much chance to bother me anyway. So Iīm going to remind him on Saturday - and then I can work together with him for an entire week, and Iīm going to hold him to his promise! No arguments! Sure, I absolutely prefer working with David (though working with a no-arguing Guy might shed some light upon other qualities he may have hidden somewhere), but by organizing the schedule like this, Iīll be able to spare David another week from Guy. For I had seen at next weekīs schedule that David and Guy were rostered together several times. I wonder why Geoff does that; he knows as well as I do that they donīt get along at all. Perhaps in the hope theyīll learn to appreciate one another?

Anyway, I think it wiser to keep Guy out of Davidīs way a little longer. So Iīve exchanged his and my shifts whenever he was scheduled to work together with Guy. And since Guy will not be allowed to argue with me next week, it should be bearable for me to stand it out with him for another week.

But first Iīm going to look for David tomorrow. Not that I have the faintest idea where to go (okay, somewhere with water), but you never know: perhaps Iīll just stumble across him somewhere. So that I can tell him those magic words:




(I wonder if heīd understand if I said that in German...)


Fri 9/2


A day full of happy dreams and expectations; thatīs what this is. Driving around, looking for David everywhere thereīs a stream or a lake marked on the map. Well, not everywhere: several are completely dried up after this long hot summer. Still, some of those sites are really beautiful. But no sign from David so far. Not that I had expected him to stay close to town, but I couldnīt very well neglect those options, could I?

But Iīve got the entire afternoon ahead, so no need for despair yet. No need for despair at all, for if I donīt find him, Iīll just have a good day on my own and probably end up at the Windoona fair tonight anyway. Then all I have to do is saving my message for two more days: till he returns to the Crossing on Sunday. Perhaps that may be better after all, since I still havenīt figured out how Iīm going to tell him. Or maybe Iīm complicating things. Maybe a simple īI love youī would do just fine? I havenīt decided yet...

The Outback is really beautiful. The wide open spaces, the vastitude of it all, the colours... Even now, at the end of the dry season, it has its charm. A wild, rough paradise. No Garden of Eden, but a paradise where everything has to struggle to survive. Itīs a beauty you sort of have to learn to appreciate. When I first came here, I thought the landscape terribly boring. (Letīs face it, even though I couldnīt bring myself to write it that clearly in my diary at the time. ) Shrub instead of majestic woods, and bare red hills instead of mighty snow-covered mountains, with their pastures and flowers further down. But now I can see the beauty of a bleached tree standing out against the hardblue sky and the reddish yellow landscape. Or the morning-mist turning the entire world mysteriously still. Yes, I think Iīm really beginning to love it. Itīs good to be here.

David has told me a while back that after the first rain of the season (usually in March/April) all the seeds instantly germinate, turning the bare Outback plains into an ocean of wild flowers. Iīd love to see that miracle happen... But first weīve got the rest of the summer to endure. I actually feel sorry for everything living out here. Both the animals and the plants and trees. Everything is so dry, so extremely dry. And theyīd have to wait perhaps another two months for the first rain?! Back in Germany we feed the birds and the deer during the winter. Perhaps here we ought to give them both water and food during the summer. I might ask Clare about that; she really seems the kind of person who would do such a thing.

I started at 6.30 this morning. Itīs nearly noon now, and the shadows are very short. Itīs fairly hot, though in the shadow, or driving in the car with the windows open, the temperature is bearable, even pleasant. It just amazes me to think that people are skiing back home in Bavaria right now. (Okay, maybe not right now, at 10 p.m.) Sometimes I can really long for snow and temperatures below zero. But now that Iīve got used to the temperatures here, who knows: perhaps Iīd feel like freezing to death if I went there right now.

Well, not today. Today weīre having a great time cruising the Outback, with the happy but rather uncertain prospect of finding David and telling him how much I love him. I brought my tape with the German Volksmusik-songs, and it really astonishes me how often those songs talk about the same kind of happiness Iīm feeling. The happiness that youīve made up your mind and want to share the rest of your life with that one and only very special person. Most of the singers are men, so they tend to sing about a lady, but that doesnīt matter. The idea is the same. And the funny thing is that Iīve never thoroughly noticed before exactly what they were singing about. But in the extraordinary happy mood Iīm in now, I find that many of their texts are extremely appropriate for the situation. What to think about this one:


Ich hätte dich sowieso geliebt

I would have loved you anyway

Weil es für mich kein Andrer gibt

Since thereīs no other one for me

Und wennīs dir geht wie mir

And if you feel the way I do

Sag i bestimmt für immer ījaī zu dir

Then Iīll definitely say īyesī to you for ever


Itīs simply a perfect description of my feelings for David! If I had a poetic stroke, I could have used the exact same words! (Perhaps I can even find some inspiration in these lyrics. Though translated to English, they donīt sound all that well, I think. Rhyme and rhythm get messed up. And I doubt whether Davidīs German is sufficient to understand the original version.)

Or what about this one:


īIch liebe dichī; die zärtlichste Worte der Welt

īI love youī; the most enchanting words in the world

Ich liebe dich. Zu lange hast du mir gefehlt

I love you. Too long Iīve done without you

Jede Nacht ohne dich lieg ich wach,

                                     such deine Hand

Every night without you I lie awake

searching for your hand

Jeder Tag ohne dich bringt mich fast

                                     um den Verstand

Every day without you drives me

nearly crazy


Okay, I havenīt come so far yet that Iīm searching for his hand at night. (Though I have been daydreaming about spending the night together in a more romantic way than in the confined conditions of the Nomad, or in those creepy shearerīs quarters at Cable Hill.) But the rest...? Ich liebe dich / I love you. The most enchanting words in the world. And when being said for the first time, causing (hopefully) a wave of relief and happiness after the tense moments in which one has to bring oneself to actually utter those words. Through a purgatory of uncertainty into the heaven of mutual love and happiness. Well, thatīs what I hope will happen. Either today or Sunday. I donīt dare to think of the possibility that he might not return my feelings. But - weird as it may be - Iīm sort of convinced that thatīs not going to be a problem. From what Iīve seen and experienced from him, somehow Iīm convinced that he loves me, too. And that he just hasnīt found the courage yet to tell me. Or perhaps heīs not certain about my feelings. Anyway, hopefully this will be remedied no later than Sunday. And Iīll just have to keep praying that I wonīt chicken out. (Or that he takes the words right out of my mouth. That would sure be the easiest way; at least for me.)

But I shouldnīt have to chicken out, for:


Dürfen darf man alles

Permitted may just be about everything

Man muß sich nur was trauen

All it takes is some confidence

Dann darf man auch a bisserl mehr

Then one can be allowed a little more

Als sich in die Augen schauen!

Than just looking into each otherīs eyes


And thatīs just what I want: a little more than just looking in his eyes. (And feel like a jellyfish, with knees that are about to give way under me, a sinking feeling in my stomach and my heart galloping through my chest. It sounds awful from a medical point of view, but as far as I know, being in love is considered one of the more harmless physical conditions.) So Iīll just have to brave it. A few nerve-wrecking moments in order to obtain a lifetime of happiness. Iīll just have to find the confidence and courage to dare and tell him, but no one can stop me in doing so, for dürfen darf man alles! Especially in this kind of matters of the heart! Oh, I wish I could get it over and done with, so that Iīd really know for sure!

And then there is this song that got me contemplating why I love David so much:


Und das Gefühl das wird mich immer für dich geben:

And thatīs a feeling I will always have for you:

Das ist geborgen sein das leise glücklich macht

Itīs being īgeborgenī that makes quietly happy


Geborgenheit. I canīt really think of an appropriate English synonym right now; one that covers its entire content. A feeling of Geborgenheit, thatīs one major part of my love for David. I feel "geborgen" with him. At home. At ease. Safe. A complete trust in him. Thatīs what makes David so special to me: this feeling of Geborgenheit he has given me from the very first day I met him. As long as Iīd be with him, thereīs nothing to worry about, for heīll take care of me and make sure I wonīt get to any harm. A wonderful feeling. And one I had never imagined to value after my independent life back in Germany. But itīs just the best feeling to find that there is this very dear person who really cares about you. Now that Iīve experienced it, I think Iīd be miserable without. I can hardly imagine how I managed to survive in Germany without David at my side!

And itīs not just receiving. Lately we sort of swapped roles, and I got the chance to take care of him for a change. Itīs bad that it was necessary - Iīd much rather see the thoughtful and relaxed David from before - but it gave me the chance to be there for him. To give him a feeling of "Geborgenheit" now that his world had suddenly turned into stress. Well, at least I hope I did. Maybe I should dance den Anti-Sorgen Walzer (the Anti-Worry Waltz) with him...

Geborgenheit. A major part of love, I think. But love has so many aspects. Of course there is the overwhelming way he attracts me. A delightful, though still very confusing feeling. Never before have I been so bewitched by a man. He just has to look at me, and... oh well, you know. Jelly-pudding, a fiery blush, rubber knees etc. Just thinking about his soft hands tenderly touching me makes me tremble with desire. To feel his body against mine. Dreams dreams dreams, hey? Laß mei Herz a bisserl träumen... (Let my heart dream a little)

Well, so many more dreams... But I think Iīd better get going. (I was having a little picnic for lunch on the shore of a tiny creek.) Continue the search, enjoying the landscape and singing along with all those suddenly wonderful songs. And if I do find him... letīs hope this turns out to be a case of "and they lived happily ever after..."!


Fri 9/2, later


Well, I havenīt found David. So I ended up at the Windoona fair. It was nice. Pretty busy. Just like the rodeo at the Crossing. But still, even though I met quite a lot of acquaintances (both from the Crossing and from the hinterland) it felt rather lonely. I guess Iīve forgotten how to amuse myself in a crowd, for every now and then I couldnīt help wishing that David was there with me. I really missed him. Whenever there is an occasion like this at the Crossing, weīd always go there together. Enjoying ourselves, chatting, laughing, having a drink or two, something to eat... Everything together. Yes, I really missed him. But perhaps there was the slight disappointment of the day - not having found him, though I had known from the start it would be a miracle if I would have found him - that influenced my mood a little, too.

Still, I couldnīt resist dreaming a little: how it would be to saunter there along the stalls with our arms around each other... With everyone noticing that we werenīt just plain friends; we were a couple in love!

Two more days and this might be true! Though I still donīt know how to break the message to him. Itīs sending cold shivers down my spine thinking about it. I wonder if everyone has those feelings when on the brink of declaring their love.



Jetzt ist es mir sonneklar

But itīs crystal-clear to me now

Es ist ganz leicht für mich:

Itīs pretty obvious to me:

Dann brauch i nur dich!

The only thing I need is you!


And thatīs just the way it is. I need David with me. Two more days...


Sat 10/2


There, the trap is set. Guy tried to pretend that he didnīt recall anything about promising not to argue with me for a week, but he needs a stupider person to fall for that trick. So tiresome, these guys, and yet they are convinced they are the most original creatures in the universe. But Iīm going to hold him to his promise this time, to spare myself (and hopefully David, too) his arguing for a whole week.

Heīll have plenty of time to figure out how that can be done this weekend, for we donīt have much to do with each other: Jackie and he were away on one of the rare Saturday-clinics, and I was in charge of the base and the hospital today. And tomorrow Iīll have the day off. Again. A nice side-effect of us swapping shifts. Geoff was to return from Sydney tonight, and David will be back tomorrow. And then hopefully life will get back to normal.

The two English girls have decided to split up by the way. It appeared Kath prefered to return home, as she had actually sort of been dragged along on this trip by her friend. She had recovered enough today to take the plane back home. And Trish will continue her adventure together with Toshi, who - after some obstinate courting of Jackie - has decided to continue his trip through Australia on his motorbike today. I just hope they wonīt run into any more outhouses...


Sat 10/2, evening


I got Clare to cover the radio for me for an hour, so I could go to Brett and Fionaīs wedding. She said she didnīt mind; she hardly knows them. But to me theyīre still kind of special: my first patients.

It appears by the way that father Jacko had the regular church-service yesterday. Iīm sorry I missed it.

Anyway, the church was packed this afternoon. Itīs the same everywhere: people love to go to a wedding. And even though both Brett and Fiona are from around here, I doubt very much whether all those people would classify as īfriends and relativesī.

It was really nice to see them all dressed up by the way. Brett looked very distinguished and very handsome in his black suit. And Fiona, whom I – apart from the ball – only knew in sturdy blouses and faded jeans, looked like a fairy from a fairy-tale. She was really beautiful. And Jock... Well, I had never seen anyone beaming literally from ear to ear, but he did! It was good to see. Somehow it hid his hollow cheeks and his emaciated body. For the past few months he looked worse for every time I saw him, but today was definitely an exception. Iīm happy for him. I think – with Brett marrying a girl he, too, has known for several years – he finds it easier to see that Brett is really grown up. Grown up and ready to take on responsibility, to take over the property, together with a young lady who knows it inside out. I know that makes their marriage sound like a bloody business arrangement, but thatīs not what it is. If that were the case, Jock wouldnīt be beaming so much. Then heīd still be worrying about Brett. And hey, you only needed to see those two together last Christmas. And today. As far as I can tell (as an outsider), their relationship is based on both love and friendship. Iīve heard that such combinations are doomed to failure: that nothing would kill love as quick as friendship does. But personally I donīt believe that. You canīt spend your entire life in bed. And the rest of the time Iīd rather have someone around with whom I get along well, than someone Iīd never choose as a friend. For there are situations in life when having a friend is worth far more than having a lover. And life does exist of more than just sex, doesnīt it?

No, Iīm glad I have David. (Eh... hopefully ) Weīre both friends and lovers. Supporting each other when necessary, able to simply have a good time together, and then, out of nowhere, there is that unmistakable physical attraction again. Yeah, Iīd say we have it all.

I couldnīt help dreaming a little about it during mass either. (Not that I tried very hard not to...) For who knows: perhaps the next time people would gather here en masse for a wedding it would be ours! And for such a wedding probably the whole district would turn up. Wouldnīt fit in this little church... And David, dashingly good-looking in that penguin-suit he was wearing at the bachelorīs ball. Waiting for me at the altar. Martin leading me down the aisle, and of course weīd have to have at least Lena and Marisa as bridesmaids. Iīm sure they would kill me if they could not! And who knows, we might be able to convince the boys to act as pages, too. It sure would be fun with Michael; a three-year-old is always fun!

And then those marital vows. To love, honour and cherish, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, till death us part... How could I not?

Mum told me once that she and Dad used to renew their vows on every anniversary. I think Iīd like to follow that example. After all, life isnīt always easy, and itīs good to remind yourself that you promised to "love, honour and cherish" your husband even in bad times. I mean, with so many marriages ending in divorce nowadays, it canīt hurt to remind yourself of that promise you once made.

I wonder what itīs like to actually stand there. Brett seemed rather nervous; Fiona almost serene. Calm and still happy. Very happy. It must be a strange experience: you go in there practically as a free girl, and when you leave the building, youīve practically given your life to a man! United with him for all the days, the years to come!

Still, seen the fact that so many people do it, it must be worth it.

Grin. As if Iīd doubt that... I can hardly wait. Oh....... (sigh) Hopefully tomorrow.


Sun 11/2


Can someone please tell me how many hours there are in this particular Sunday? It seems thereīs already been some sixhundred, and still itīs only 1.30 p.m.! Waiting... the worst thing in life. Waiting, and not having the faintest idea about what time of day heīll be back. He has to start work at 8 a.m. tomorrow morning, so I donīt suppose heīll postpone his return until halfway into the night... So... say in the next 10 and a half hours Iīm going to have to tell him that I love him. And already now Iīm a bundle of nerves. Canīt find anything to do. Canīt concentrate on anything. Iīve been strawling around town a bit, but I canīt bring myself to even go down to the creek, afraid that Iīll miss his coming home. And I want to go and see him as soon as possible!

David, please... Donīt make me suffer all day! Come back soon now!

What if I chicken out after all? I can imagine why he hasnīt told me yet. Itīs not just enough to love someone; you need an enormous amount of courage to go with it: to face that person and tell him/her, too. I hope my courage will be sufficient to keep my nerves under control...




To the next chapter: 171-173


To the previous chapter: 168-169 (not available yet)

To the cast and credits: credits

Why this diary: preface


To the index to Magdaīs Diary


Back to FD-fanfiction index







Note: The songs Magda refers to are:

- Ich hättī dich sowieso geküsst (author unknown, sung by Patrick Lindner, exact year unknown)

- Ich liebe dich (author and singer unknown, probably from the late 80īs)

- Dürfen darf ma alles (Frankfurter/Holder, sung by Patrick Lindner, 1991)

- Ein kleines Feuer (author unknown, sung by Patrick Lindner, exact year unknown)

- Der Anti-Sorgen Walzer (Frankfurter/Holder, sung by Patrick Lindner, 1991)

- Laß mei Herz a bisserl träumen (Frankfurter/Holder, sung by Patrick Lindner, 1991)

- Manchmal braucht man was, an dess ma glaubīn kann (Frankfurter/Holder, sung by Patrick Lindner, 1990)




The home of this story is

Downloading and printing of this story for private use only.

For all other forms of publication and distribution is the clearly stated, written permission of the author required.