Elephant Man - Christine Sparks [77]
“Oh yes. Thank you. It’s very important—today.”
“More visitors? You had two lots yesterday didn’t you?”
“Yes. Lady de Grey came in the morning. Look.” He pulled forward a photograph of the famous aristocratic beauty that showed her sitting on a hammock, leaning enticingly to one side, one hand clasping a fan which she held just behind her head. In contrast to the stately poses of many of the women who now crowded Merrick’s mantelpiece the picture of Gladys de Grey was openly flirtatious. Mothershead just stopped herself clucking her disapproval.
“It doesn’t do her justice,” Merrick said gravely. “She is much more beautiful in the flesh. Mr. White said so, too.”
“Who is Mr. White?”
“I don’t exactly know. He came with her—she called him ‘Lukie.’ ”
“But he’s not the lady’s husband?”
“I didn’t like to ask—but I don’t think he can be. Did you say something?”
Mrs. Mothershead had said, “Hrrmph!” before she could stop herself, but she judged it wisest not to repeat it. She had her own opinion of married women who went visiting with other men, but this wasn’t the place for it.
“Who came in the afternoon?”
“The Countess of Warwick. Look.”
The Countess’ pose was statuesque and almost in profile. The photograph had evidently been taken when she was ready to go riding, and showed off the tightly corseted, hourglass figure to perfection.
“Did anyone come with her?” demanded Mothershead.
“Oh yes. Lord Charles Beresford.”
This time Mothershead yielded to temptation. “And where are the husbands of these ladies when they come visiting you with other men?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t ask them, could I? What was that? You did say something.”
“I said, Hrrmph!”
“I don’t understand. What does it mean?”
“It means you’re making some very funny friends, my lad.”
“They’re very kind to be. Lord Charles gave me this.” Merrick handed her a solid gold cigar-case inscribed with the Beresford coat of arms.
“Delightful of him. What does he think you’re going to do with it?”
“Well, he used it to keep cigars in. I shall keep it as a memento of a friend.”
“John,” said Mothershead curiously, “do you feel these people are really your friends?”
“Of course. They take so much trouble to come and see me, and I really do appreciate them giving up their time. They all have so many other engagements, but they manage to visit me.”
She was silent for a moment before she said, “Who’s coming this afternoon?”
“Lord and Lady Waddington, at five o’clock.”
“Well then, I expect you’d like some tea delivered. I’ll see to it.”
“Thank you.”
In the hall downstairs she encountered Treves in a hurry.
“Sir, I’d like to speak—”
“Can it wait awhile, Mothershead? I’m due to see Mr. Carr-Gomm and I’m a bit late.” Halfway up the stairs he turned and called back. “Is anyone coming to see John today?”
“Lord and Lady Waddington. That was what—”
“Of course, I’d forgotten. You’ll see them in if I’m not here, won’t you, Mothershead?”
“Yes, sir.”
Carr-Gomm dismissed Treves’ apologies for his lateness with a wave of the hand. He was in a sober mood.
“If the contributions don’t pick up soon, Treves, I’m afraid we’re going to have a difficult time with the Committee.”
“How much longer before they meet?”
“A fortnight.”
“Can’t you find a way of putting it off, sir?”
“I have put it off—three times. I’ve stalled until I’ve run out of ways to stall. Not unnaturally Broadneck has become thoroughly suspicious. He is now threatening to get together a quorum and call a meeting against my wishes. I am afraid that he can do that. That would be a disaster. I would have even less influence over such a meeting than I can see I’m going to have anyway. So I asked you to come and see me because I wanted to tell you myself that the meeting will be in ten days’ time, and I want you most particularly to hold yourself free to be there.
“Our last hope may be that you can influence the Committee by telling them how our friend had developed over the past few weeks, and what an insane piece of cruelty