Elephant Man - Christine Sparks [17]
The sound of footsteps approaching down the corridor made him shiver. When Treves re-entered he was crouched back in the corner behind the glass case. This time the doctor knew where to look for him without hesitation.
“Come with me,” he enjoined.
He took the Elephant Man down to the front door and pointed out the cab waiting for him at the gate across the square. The creature had just begun his slow, painful movement over to the cab as Treves turned back into the hospital. He wondered if perhaps he should escort him to the cab, but there seemed no need by now. He had done so the first couple of times, but since then the man seemed to understand what was required of him. And Treves was tired. He began slowly to climb the stairs.
At a small landing on the first floor he stopped and looked out at the square. He could see the Elephant Man, who had almost reached the waiting cab. He became aware of Fox standing behind him.
“Congratulations, Freddie. You were very impressive.”
“Since when were you a member of the Pathological Society?” Treves demanded with a grin.
“I slipped in at the back. I wasn’t going to miss your moment of glory. Besides, I had to find out just what ‘nothing of any importance’ was.”
Dusk was falling. Lights gleamed from the windows of the hospital. Still Treves stood there, watching.
“You never mentioned his mental state,” said Fox.
“He’s imbecile, no doubt from birth. He speaks but—it’s all gibberish. No, the man’s a hopeless idiot.” Treves spoke almost to himself. “I pray to God he’s an idiot.”
Footsteps sounded in the hall behind them. Hill had arrived with two older colleagues from the hospital, both of them members of the Society.
“Quite a coup, Freddie,” said one. “You’ll look splendid in the journal.”
“Wherever did you find that creature?” The other was clapping Treves on the back and the three other men followed suit. Treves hardly noticed. His eyes were fixed on the Elephant Man, who had reached the cab and was about to climb in.
And then the man did something that spoiled everything. He turned and looked back at the hospital, his head lifted, the black hole in his mask seeming to scan the facade of the building for somethinag he was searching for. It was nonsense, Treves told himself, to be so fanciful, but he could almost have sworn that the man’s eye had come to rest on the sight of himself standing there in the window, surrounded by colleagues, all cheerfully congratulating him. Dr. Frederick Treves’ finest moment.
He tried to shake the fantasy off. It was too far and the light was failing. The Elephant Man could never have picked him out so clearly. But why did he stand like that, immobile beside the impatient cabman, his head turned remorselessly in this direction? Treves froze inside, for he had a feeling as if the man had screamed at him across a great distance.
Then the feeling died, the shadows cleared from his brain. Merrick had turned and was climbing clumsily into the cab. In another moment the door had slammed, the wheels were turning, and the square was empty.
He got away quickly from the hospital. He wanted no more congratulations that night. He wanted his home, his wife, and his comfortable, untroubled atmosphere.
Anne came to meet him as soon as she heard the door.
“Did it go well, darling?” She kissed him and helped him off with his overcoat.
“Yes, very well, I think.” They were standing in front of the hall mirror. He turned her suddenly so that their faces were reflected side-by-side, his own worn out, Anne’s fresh and smiling, but both blessedly normal.
“What is it, Freddie?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking how pretty you are.” He kissed her. He had a sudden longing to see his