Elephant Man - Christine Sparks [26]
“There, you’re all right now?”
She nodded, still not able to speak.
“Go downstairs and please ask Mrs. Mothershead to come up. Tell her to knock on the door and wait for me. All right?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” Drying her eyes Nora went down the stairs and made a thankful escape.
Treves stood on the half-lit landing and cursed the ill-fortune that had intervened in his plans this early. In his mind he could reconstruct the scene only too easily. Nora’s approach, the man’s growing nervous awareness of her footsteps, the opening of the door, her first unprepared sight of that shocking body and even more shocking head, her scream that had driven him cowering into the corner. And now what did the Elephant Man think? That he had been rescued from one jeering hell only to be plunged into another?
He stepped into the Isolation Ward and closed the door behind him. The Elephant Man was still crouched in the corner of the bed, but he had stopped cowering and was looking directly at Treves.
“I’m very sorry about that,” Treves said quietly. “Are you resting well?”
He regretted the idiot question as soon as it had escaped his lips. It was one of the standard questions you asked patients, but for this man none of the standard questions were applicable. Treves felt uncomfortable as he edged his feet forward onto uncharted territory. The Elephant Man garbled a noise that could have meant anything, and Treves seized on it.
“Ah, good. Well then … oh yes, we’ll have to get you some more food. I’m sure you must be simply famished, him?”
The Elephant Man stared at him. He did not seem reassured by the hearty tone that was normally such a success with patients.
“Of course you are. Now then, I think you’ll be quite comfortable up here for a while. I’ll see to it you have everything you need, and—uh yes …”
It was a relief to come to the end of the meaningless words. There was only one thing for it, Treves thought, and that was to do as he would do with an animal. He stretched out his hand and laid it gently on the Elephant Man. He could feel the instant flinch backward, but the man made no other move, and for a moment his eyes were as they had been in the cellar, human, pleading. Treves sighed.
The knock on the door came as a relief. He opened it and went out onto the landing where Mrs. Mothershead was standing with an iron face. He closed the door behind him, taking care to keep himself between her and the creature inside the room.
“Ah, Mothershead. How are you feeling today?”
The heartiness succeeded no better with her than it had with Merrick. But where the Elephant Man’s rejection of it had been caused by incomprehension, Mrs. Mothershead’s had an ironic tinge.
“Perfectly well, thank you, doctor.” Her eyes met Treves, filled with suspicion.
“Good, excellent. Now then, Mrs. Mothershead, I want you to come into this room with me. Inside there is a man with a rather—unfortunate appearance.”
“I’ve heard,” Mothershead said drily.
“Yes—well, I want you to clear up a little mess. A breakfast tray was spilt. And bring up another breakfast.” He hurried on as he saw her eyebrows rise. “I would not normally ask someone in your position to undertake this kind of duty, but this is rather special. In view of the circumstances I don’t feel I can entrust this man into the care of a less-experienced nurse.”
“Since they appear unable to stop themselves screaming the place down, I imagine you’re right,” the Matron said crossly. “Will there be anything else, doctor?”
“Yes. When you’ve done that, you and I shall give the man a bath.” He moved toward the door, then stopped. “Mothershead, I’m counting on your many years of experience to get you through this. Above all, do not scream, do not cry out, or in any way show this man that you are frightened of him …”
“Sir, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not the sort to cry out. Shall we go in?”
“Yes—yes, let’s go in.” He opened the door and stood back hastily as she swept past him, going right up to Merrick