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Small eyes glimmered for the first time behind his round glasses, as though she’d finally interested him. ‘We shall do a series of tests to ascertain the state of his mental health.’
‘Because you believe you can cure him?’ She couldn’t disguise her disdain.
‘We must ascertain the cause of his . . . how shall I say, um, immorality, if you’ll permit.’
‘I don’t permit!’ She felt the urge to stamp her foot. ‘And how do you propose to hunt down his immorality?’
The doctor glanced around at the others, hoping for a few words of assistance, but each was gazing away.
‘Well,’ he blustered, ‘we shall discuss his depraved behaviour with him, of course, and learn from where it stems.’
‘I see, and I gather you have certain treatments you perform?’
‘We do. But it is not for a gentlewoman’s —’
‘Dr Ely, we are discussing my husband here. I’m clearly not so gentle that it gave you pause in hurling around words like depravity or immorality, as though they don’t hurt, but suddenly I’m too fragile to hear about your proposed cures?’ She gave a snort of disdain. ‘I have every right to know what you are planning to inflict upon my husband in the name of treatment.’
The narrow line of his moustache twitched with vexation at being questioned so publicly but she suspected he wouldn’t dare be openly rude to a member of her family, given their standing in York. ‘We will likely begin with the use of hydrotherapy . . . er, water, to the layman.’
‘And that cures him, does it? Because, frankly, he could go to Harrogate for that!’
‘We have found this therapy to have a positive effect on the body’s system.’
‘In what way?’
‘Really, Mrs Britten-Jones, I don’t think here is the time or place to discuss the intricacies of the body’s immune system.’
‘He is not diseased, Dr Ely. He is simply a man who prefers his own sex.’
The two fathers gasped and poor Giles looked embarrassed for her. Her candour made her feel suddenly powerful. ‘And what else, Dr Ely? What other treatments did you have in mind, other than a lot of bathing?’ She couldn’t care any less than she did right now for any of the men around her.
‘If he does not respond to the first, we shall try some drugs. There is research to show that giving a patient small doses of infections such as malaria to induce fever can have a tremendous influence on their mental state, plus a good case could be argued for some new treatment I’ve been reading about called aversion therapy. Without getting too technical, it involves inducing the patient to sicken at certain images.’
She blinked with the horror-filled knowledge of what Matthew faced in coming days. She’d heard enough; she would not give this man a moment longer with Matthew than she could help. ‘I shall take my leave, Dr Ely,’ she said, without offering a hand. She moved to where the three conspirators stood. ‘Giles, I would like to see you tomorrow at the house please. Is that possible?’
‘Of course, Alex,’ he said. ‘Shall we say eleven?’
‘Make it nine, Giles.’ She shook his hand briefly, politely, before leaning in to give her father a light kiss. ‘I’ll speak to you tomorrow, Dad. I can’t promise it shall be pleasant. Mother can stay overnight if she wishes to.’ She didn’t wait for his reply and cast a sneering glance at Chetwin Britten-Jones over one shoulder. ‘Remember what I told you about how unwelcome you and your family are at our house, Chetwin. I recommend you don’t test me.’
And then she was gone, stepping out into the freezing night, glad of the cold pinching at her cheeks and stinging her tongue as she sucked in the air. It was Giles who ran after her.
‘Alex, at least permit me to call you a carriage?’
‘No, thank you, Giles. I won’t tolerate another moment in this place of horror. I know this is not your doing but please start thinking tonight about all the ways to get Matthew released from here.’
‘We can apply for you to have him transferred to a hospital of your choosing.’
‘Good. Be ready to put that into action with urgency tomorrow morning.’
‘A word of warning,’ he dared. ‘Chetwin Britten-Jones’s Reception Order is for one year. It can be renewed annually.’
She swallowed but the lump of fear didn’t shift. Alex breathed deeply. ‘First things first. He must be shifted from Bootham.’
Giles nodded that he agreed.
‘I shall leave you now. I’m happier walking home through the snow to cool my fury.’ She took pity on his fallen expression. Giles was a good man; the Frobishers had used his family legal practice for decades. He was younger than her father but had about fifteen years on her and he deserved more gracious behaviour from her. She blew out her cheeks. ‘I’ll get the porter at the gates to hail me a hackney.’
‘Thank you. If you haven’t already been told, Matthew is being brought in on the basis of moral imbecility.’ She shook her head with disgust. ‘The next option was prison and it was your father who convinced Chetwin to go down the path of psychiatric care as a way of getting around the public shame of imprisonment for Matthew. In Chetwin’s defence —’
