Elephant Man (26 page)

“What is it?” said Mothershead urgently. “What
is
it?”

Without a word he handed it to her and stood watching as her face assumed the same look as his own. When she looked up their eyes met, but for a moment neither could speak.

At last Carr-Gomm found his voice. “Mrs. Mothershead, I want your promise that you will say not a word of this to anyone.”

“Even Mr. Treves, sir?”

For once in his life Carr-Gomm’s pale eyes gleamed with a humor that was almost roguish.

“Especially Mr. Treves,” he said.

From his office window overlooking the front entrance Treves had watched the Committee members arrive. To him they all looked like executioners. They would vote to return John Merrick to hell, and then go home to supper with the easy consciences of good men. He hated every one of them.

Carr-Gomm sent for him before the meeting began, so that they could go in together.

To his amazement Carr-Gomm looked relaxed, almost cheerful as he led the way to the Committee room. Treves wondered for a moment if he could possibly have forgotten what was to happen today, or did he just no longer care?

“Sir,” he said urgently under his breath as they went in, “if there is any way we could defer …”

“Steady on, Treves,” Carr-Gomm interrupted. “Have a seat.”

Reluctantly Treves went to his seat. Carr-Gomm took his place at the head of the table and rapped his gavel. When he was sure he had their attention he began to speak.

“Gentlemen, I know we begin every meeting by reading the minutes, but in the interest of speed I think we should conclude a matter discussed previously, to wit, that of Mr. John Merrick, the Elephant Man …”

The very sound of the name brought Broadneck exploding to his feet. Carr-Gomm’s only reaction was to offer a smile to Treves who was feeling too grim to answer it.

“Mr. Broadneck?” Carr-Gomm beamed at Broadneck in a way a more sensitive man might have been wary of.

Broadneck began to yap. “Mr. Chairman! I was under the distinct impression that we had concluded discussion of this disagreeable matter. Had we not ascertained
that an Elephant Man is
not
acceptable as a patient? Have we not, very generously, allowed the creature to use two of our rooms until such time as he could be properly disposed of? Have we not made every effort to interpret the hospital’s rules benevolently in the name of charity?”

His swiveled gaze round the table produced the expected rumble of agreement. The Committee members were beginning to feel harassed by Carr-Gomm. More than one of them silently offered thanks that Broadneck was available to do the dirty work.

Confident that he had the majority with him, Broadneck expanded. “Which brings to mind my next point. The rules, gentlemen, the rules. In a society such as ours, it is of paramount importance that we not stray from the established order. Has that order not alreatly been fearfully strained by allowing this … this … sideshow exhibit to take up residence, however temporary, in two very useful rooms, the purpose of which would be far better served in accommodating
treatable
patients, patients to whom this hospital was originally dedicated? I believe we have a duty …”

Treves felt he might vomit if he stayed listening. How could Carr-Gomm sit there, that inscrutable smile on his face as if he expected the heavens to open any minute and a
deus ex machina
to descend and make everything right? Didn’t he understand that he’d ruined their chances by bringing matters to a head prematurely? Or had he too secretly joined the ranks of the uncaring? Was this a way of reneging on his word, getting rid of John Merrick and allowing Broadneck to take the blame?

For a moment Treves seriously considered the possibility. He knew Carr-Gomm to be a well-meaning man but a subtle and devious medical politician. He was about to hurl caution to the winds and throw himself into Merrick’s defense when he looked up suddenly and caught Carr-Gomm’s eyes on him. He had the feeling that the older man had read his every
thought and was trying to tell him something. The pale eyes looked directly into his own with a message as clear as words.

Leave it to me, I know what I’m doing
.

Treves leaned back against his chair and his hands unclenched. He was still troubled, but Carr-Gomm’s remarkable power of instilling trust as if by hypnotism had been stronger than his fears. His shoulders sagged tiredly. He became aware that Broadneck was still ranting.

“… In light of these facts, our course is clear. The question is not whether to accept this creature as a patient; the question is when will those rooms be vacated for use by better qualified, more deserving cases? I move that this Elephant Man be removed from the premises immediately. We have a sacred duty to cure the sick, not care for circus animals. That is my last word on the subject, Mr. Chairman; we shall vote?”

He threw the last words directly at Carr-Gomm, as a challenge. Carr-Gomm did not immediately reply, but he checked his watch then cleared his throat

“I take it Mr. Broadneck,” he said gently, “that your mind is fixed on this matter?”

Broadneck’s already high-colored face turned puce. He seemed unable to believe what he had heard.

“Mr. Chairman, don’t you have ears? I am
unalterably
opposed to any …”

Treves had ceased to listen. His ear had been caught by the sound of a faint commotion far off in the building. His mind said automatically—Accident case—Emergency. But his abnormally acute hearing had picked up a new tension in the distant noise, a sense of pleasurable excitement intangible but unmistakable. He made a conscious effort to shut out Broadneck’s voice and listen more intently. Carr-Gomm too was paying no heed to Broadneck’s blustering. His eyes were alight with expectation and Treves knew, without knowing how he knew, that Carr-Gomm’s confidence that day was somehow
linked with whatever was happening in other parts of the building. The Chairman’s eyes were on him again.

Leave it to me, I know what I’m doing
.

“No,” Broadneck howled. “My mind is made up on this.”

Whatever the commotion was it was coming near. It had resolved itself now into footsteps.

“You shall not sway me,” Broadneck persisted.

The footsteps were in the hall immediately outside the Committee room.

“May we
now
vote, Mr. Chairman, at long last?”

Carr-Gomm checked his watch again and began to rise to his feet. He was smiling broadly. The door had begun to open.

I know what I’m doing
.

The door was flung wide. Two footmen entered quickly and took up position on either side of it. One of them announced in a loud voice, “Gentlemen, Her Royal Highness Alexandra, Princess of Wales.”

The next moment a tall, slender, and very lovely woman stood in the doorway.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” said a soft, utterly feminine voice.

At forty-two Alexandra had retained much of her extraordinary beauty, although time and her husband’s frequent infidelities had drained the joyousness from her face and left a wistful sadness behind.

But if she had lost Prince Edward’s interest she had strengthened her hold on the affection of the British people. They pitied her unhappiness, admired her looks and the way she had kept her elegant figure after six children, but mostly they loved her for the warmth and kindness of her heart. Alexandra had never been known to refuse an appeal to her sympathy.

She stood now in the doorway as the men round the table rose hastily to their feet and stared at her, too stunned to speak. She knew precisely the impression she made and she enjoyed it Alexandra had always liked being the center of attention; she liked the
glitter and the pageantry that went with her position. She savored now the sensation she had made by her entrance.

“I hope I’m not interrupting?” she asked in the gentle voice that had lost most of its Danish accent, but still managed to be charmingly not-quite-English.

Carr-Gomm seemed to pull himself together. Even he, the only one who had expected the Princess’s appearance, had suffered a slight shock at the sight of her. He stepped forward.

“Indeed not, Your Highness. Your presence is always greatly appreciated. We were just about to put the matter of Mr. Merrick to a vote.” He turned back to the other Committee members. His eyes sought Broadneck, who, understanding how he had been out-maneuvered, was trying to control the workings of his face. “The Princess is very interested in Mr. Merrick’s fate,” he said with unmistakable emphasis.

Alexandra’s lips twitched faintly. She knew perfectly the role she was being called on to play and she responded to Carr-Gomm’s cue without hesitation. “Indeed I am, sir, as is the Queen. I have a brief communication from Her Majesty, which she has requested I read to you.” She moved forward. Carr-Gomm stood back to make his place at the head of the table available to her and she came to stand there. Instead of sitting down she took a piece of paper from her reticule and began to read from it: “To the Governing Committee, London Hospital. I would very much like to commend you for the charitable face you have shown Mr. John Merrick, the Elephant Man. It is laudable that you have provided one of England’s most unfortunate sons with a safe and tranquil harbor, a home. For this immeasurable kindness, as well as the many other acts of mercy on behalf of the poor, of which Mr. Carr-Gomm has kept me informed, I gratefully thank you. Signed Victoria, Empress of India, Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.”

Alexandra folded the paper and looked round the
table. Her gaze came to rest on Broadneck, the man who had been standing when she entered, and therefore presumably the author of the unpleasant squeals of anger and outrage that had reached her down the corridor. She felt a flinch of distaste for his violent face and hard, piggy eyes. But she allowed none of this to show. Instead she gave Broadneck the full power of her magnificent eyes and although her words took in the entire Committee it was to Broadneck she spoke.

“I am sure you gentlemen may be counted on to do the Christian thing.”

Then she seated herself with the air of someone prepared to stay there all day if necessary. With a small nod of her head she indicated that she wished them too to be seated.

Carr-Gomm replied quickly. “Thank you very much, Your Highness. You may be sure we shall.”

Alexandra exchanged a conspiratorial glance with him. She had an intuitive gift for understanding atmosphere and she understood this one exactly. She and Carr-Gomm had never met, but already they were like actors playing predetermined roles in a drama. Treves watched the whole performance, as stunned as any man there, hardly able to take in the immensity of what had happened. It was too soon yet for joy.

Broadneck sat down because his legs were collapsing under him. He was thoroughly unnerved. He realized that much of his outburst must have been audible down the corridor. He felt a fresh surge of hatred for Carr-Gomm, who had tricked him into this.

The Chairman continued in a smooth voice: “Well then, I move that Mr. John Merrick be admitted to the London Hospital on a permanent basis, on condition that the Hospital shall receive a yearly payment equal to the cost of occupying one bed, and that the funds for his care shall be clearly separate from hospital funds. All those in favor?”

He raised his own hand at once. For a dreadful moment it was the only hand raised. The other members,
puzzled, stared at Broadneck, as if waiting his lead. Their action seemed to give him a last stab of courage for his hand remained stubbornly down. Red in the face he stared at Carr-Gomm, then at Treves, then at Alexandra. She beamed back at him with eyes as apparently innocent as a child’s.

Before that gaze he retreated, seemed to deflate in front of them all. Slowly his hand was raised, and after it came the hands of all the others, confused by the loss of their leader.

After that there was nothing for it but to close the meeting at once. Broadneck had no heart for any further business, and the royal guest must be attended to. Carr-Gomm escorted her to his office, followed by Treves. Formalities followed, Mothershead was sent for to make her curtsey, tea was served, polite conversation was made. Through it all Treves was in agony, longing to get away to tell Merrick the good news, but unable to move.

Alexandra made him tell her the whole of Merrick’s known history. The version Treves offered up was suitably edited, but still sufficient to draw from her expressions of horror.

“Mr. Treves,” she said at last, “I should very much like to meet the Elephant Man. But not—” she added hastily as a look of alarm covered his face before he could stop it, “—not, perhaps this afternoon. It would scarcely be kind of me to walk in and take the poor gentleman by surprise.” Her eyes twinkled. “We have seen to what shocks that can lead, have we not, gentlemen?”

Treves began to understand why people loved Alexandra. He was immensely relieved that he did not have to put Merrick on display before giving him an extra bath.

The Princess had taken out a little notebook and was scribbling in it with a gold pencil.

“Shall we say—next Wednesday afternoon?” she asked, and again her eyes shone with laughter. “That
is—unless Mr. Merrick has any conflicting engagements. I hear he has a crowded social calendar.”

“I can assure Your Royal Highness that Mr. Merrick has no ‘conflicting engagements’ next Wednesday afternoon,” said Carr-Gomm, who had not the slightest idea whether he had or not. “We will be honored to welcome you.”

It seemed that the entire staff of the hospital, plus any patients that were on their feet, were gathered in the front windows to watch the Princess’s departure. Before getting into her carriage she turned and gave them all an elegant little wave, and a cheer went up. Within minutes the whole story of the Committee meeting had gone round the building.

When the carriage had rumbled out of the gate Treves and Carr-Gomm turned to each other jubilantly, but the Chairman, as always, expressed his joy in deceptively moderate terms.

“If anyone,” he said, “has got to Mr. Merrick and denied me the pleasure of being the one to tell him the good news, I shall be excessively angry.”