The complainant is Rhett Mallory.
The second page is a supporting statement from a registered nurse at Thornhill General, signed and dated.
Yvie Grear.
The timing.
And here is the part that turned it from cruelty into something a court could look at.
I instructed a solicitor about the house on the fourth of May, 2023.
The complaint was received on the fifteenth of May, 2023.
Eleven days.
And what a complaint does to a doctor in the middle of a divorce is this: it puts you in a position where you cannot fight two things at once.
Hollis told me at the time — in the August of 2023, in his own office, and he was right — that if we contested the finances properly it would take eighteen months and would run alongside the regulator, and that I would be doing both while not practising.
So in the February of 2024 I signed.
I signed a settlement that gave my ex-husband the house in Ellery, which I had bought in 2017, with a deposit from my grandmother, four years before I met him.
I signed it because I could not carry both. That was the entire point of the complaint, and it worked exactly as intended, and it cost two hundred and eleven thousand pounds of equity.
That settlement was set aside in the February of this year on the basis of material non-disclosure and conduct, and the house is being sold, and I will get most of it back.
That took eleven months and it is not finished.
The fourteen months, which people imagine as a holiday and which I am going to describe once.
I was not suspended. That is a word people use and it is wrong, and the distinction mattered enormously to me at the time and matters not at all now.
I was "restricted from clinical duties pending investigation", which means you come in. You badge in at the same door at half seven. You walk past your own clinic and you go to an office on the fourth floor and you do audit work that a band five could do, and at one o'clock you go to the same canteen as everybody who knows.
Fourteen months of that.
Three people stopped speaking to me. I am not going to name them. Two of them were at my wedding.
Eleven people were extraordinary — the sister, Bernadine, who rang me every Sunday for a year; a registrar called Olu who sent me a photograph of every single thank-you card that came into the department with my name on it, for fourteen months, without comment.
