Elephant Man - Christine Sparks [88]
“… 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