Elephant Man - Christine Sparks [73]
A nurse came to take away his breakfast things. It was not Nora. He greeted her politely but did not look up at her. Half an hour later two others came to give him his bath. Again neither of them was Nora and this time he was glad.
Lunch came and went. He ate it quickly and returned to his cardboard cathedral. He wanted to do as much as possible before the light became poor, and he was pleased with the way it was going.
Late in the afternoon, just as he was beginning to think he must finish for the day, there came a knock on the door.
“Come in,” he said mechanically, thinking it was the evening meal.
But it was Treves, with an air of suppressed excitement and apprehension.
“Good afternoon, John.”
“Good afternoon.”
“John, there’s someone here who would like to meet you. Would that be all right?”
“Yes—of course.” Merrick was flustered, as though Treves’ nerves had communicated themselves to him. He wondered if his visitor was another senior member of the staff, someone like Carr-Gomm.
Then Treves stood aside and Merrick saw a stranger standing in the doorway. He caught his breath. He truly believed he must be looking at the most beautiful woman in the world.
“John,” Treves said, “I’d like you to meet one of the brightest lights of the British stage, Mrs. Kendal. Mrs. Kendal, John Merrick.”
“Good day, Mr. Merrick.” Madge Kendal’s voice was deep and husky.
He recovered himself enough to remember his manners. “Good day …”
She moved into the room and came to stand before him, gazing directly into his eyes. Nothing in her expression betrayed the awful revulsion that swept over her. After seeing one of Treves’ photographs she had believed herself prepared for the worst but no photograph, she now realized, could prepare anyone for the piteous outrage of nature that was John Merrick. But Madge Kendal was not an actress for nothing. She fought now for control of her features and her eyes, and achieved it. Merrick became the recipient of the most dazzling smile at her command.
“I’ve brought you some things,” she said. “I hope you’ll like them, Mr. Merrick. I hope you don’t think it too forward?”
“Oh—no,” he scarcely heard her words or his own reply. He could not take his eyes from her.
“I knew you’d understand. Here.”
She took something from under her arm and handed it to him. Dazed he looked at it and saw that it was a framed photograph of herself, looking as elegant and fashionable as she did now. He could not speak. The ache was back in his throat, but this time it was from joy. He was terrified of bursting into tears again. Looking closely at him Mrs. Kendal understood everything that was passing through his mind. To break the tense silence she spoke archly.
“I want you to know that I don’t go about giving my pictures to just anyone.”
He managed to speak at last. “Oh no. I would never think it! It’s so beautiful. You are so—I’ll give it a place of honor here, next to my mother.”
He stepped back and lifted the portrait to the mantelpiece where the newly framed picture of his mother stood.
“She’s very pretty, your mother,” said Mrs. Kendal.
“Yes.” Merrick looked from one picture to the other, as though unable to decide which one gave him the most pleasure. Then he turned, as though remembering the proper behavior of a gentleman to a lady paying a visit.
“Would you care to sit down?”
She thanked him and seated herself, taking the chance to lay on the table a large book she was carrying. She had got her second breath now and was able to look at him more easily.
Treves waved Merrick to the only other chair, refusing to take it himself. He stood watching the two of them, smiling with pleasure at the apparent success of his plan.
“I see you’re constructing a—church?” Mrs. Kendal regarded the cardboard box.
“A cathedral—yes. I have to rely on my imagination for what I can’t actually see …” He hesitated before coming back to something that was puzzling him. “Mr. Treves says that you are in the theater. Do you live there?”
“Oh no, Mr. Merrick. I just work there.”
“Well, even to work there would be wonderful.