Johnny Swanson (22 page)

There was just enough light for Johnny to see Olwen hoisting herself up onto a marble slab in the middle of the room. She sat there with her feet swinging in mid air. ‘Close the door,’ she said. Johnny did, and they were suddenly in total darkness. One of Olwen’s shoes fell off. Johnny gasped in fright.

Olwen laughed. ‘Don’t be silly. There’s nothing to be scared of. I don’t believe in ghosts – and even if they do exist, I think I’d like to meet one. I’d ask what it’s like being dead. Wouldn’t you?’

Johnny was glad Olwen couldn’t see his face in the darkness. He hated hearing her talk so casually about death when he had such bad news for her.

She was badgering him for information. ‘Come on then. Tell me what’s going on. But be quick, mind. I’ve got to get back to the ward before the nurses notice I’m missing.’

‘Were you running away?’

‘No, though I’d love to if I had anywhere to go. It was my turn to go down to the bins to see if there was any left-over food. I’ve got some stale cake here, and a bit of cheese rind if you want it.’

Johnny could hear her digging into her coat
pocket. ‘Stop it, Olwen,’ he said. ‘Be quiet for a minute. This is no time for messing about with cake. I’ve got something serious to say.’

Olwen’s tone changed. ‘Is it the baby? They took her to the sanatorium, you know. Mam promised they would make her better.’

Johnny took a deep breath. Even in the darkness he could tell that Olwen had guessed part of the truth and didn’t dare ask the question that was really on her mind. He forced himself to answer.

‘I’m sorry, Olwen. Your sister died. I know that the doctors did everything in their power, but she was desperately ill. They couldn’t save her.’

He waited for Olwen to ask more. He wanted her to prompt him to talk about her parents, but there was silence. ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,’ he said. He was trying to speak normally, but his voice came out in breathy croaks. Olwen still didn’t say anything, and Johnny knew he had to carry on. He swallowed hard. ‘It’s not just the baby,’ he said. ‘It’s your mother and father.’

‘Have they come to collect me? If the baby’s dead, they don’t need to spend all their time looking after her any more, do they? They can take me home now, can’t they?’

‘No, Olwen. They can’t come.’

‘Are they ill too? Is Dad still bad?’

‘No, it’s not that …’ Johnny could tell he was making a mess of it, taking far too long to break the news, and dangling another moment of false hope. In the end he had to accept that there was no easy way to say it. ‘Oh, Olwen, I’m so sorry. They died too.’

If he’d expected anything, he’d been prepared for tears; but Olwen was suddenly angry. ‘No they’re not. Don’t lie. They’re not,’ she shouted. ‘Someone would have told me.’

Johnny fumbled in the darkness for her hand. ‘Please, Olwen, believe me. It
is
true. I’ve seen their graves. They both had TB, and they both died in the sanatorium at Emberley. I’m sure someone would have told you if they could, but I don’t think anyone knew where to find you.’

‘But you did.’

‘No I didn’t, Olwen. I tried to tell you before. I came here for another reason. Something really important.’ He knew at once that it was the wrong thing to say.

Olwen snatched her hand away. ‘Really important? How? My family are dead. What could be more
important than that?’ She was sniffing now. She must be crying.

‘Important to me, I meant. And to my mother.’ It seemed wrong to be changing the subject, but he wanted to explain. His words started tumbling out. ‘There’s someone here who might be able to save my mother’s life. It’s Mrs Langford. The old doctor’s wife from Stambleton. Do you know her? Is she here? She might be calling herself Mrs Morgan.’

He could tell that Olwen wasn’t really listening. She was sobbing quite loudly now. He wanted to comfort her, but didn’t know how. He fumbled in the dark, trying to put his arm round her, but they both pulled away, startled at the sound of brisk footsteps on the stairs.

‘We’ve been here too long! They’re looking for me,’ Olwen gasped through her tears as she slipped down from the table.

‘Please, don’t say that I’m here,’ Johnny whispered back, fearing Olwen might tell on him in revenge for his bad news. He stumbled into a pile of boxes and curled up behind them, hoping that nothing would show if someone came looking.

The door swung open and the light from the stairway flung a huge silhouette of a nurse across the back
wall. The points of her starched headdress looked like horns on an angry bull in the contorted image.

A fierce voice boomed out. ‘Here you are! I might have known. You come out from there, young lady! This time you’ve gone too far!’ Johnny heard Olwen sobbing as the furious nurse dragged her from under the table. ‘I’ve had enough of you and your disobedience. Now stand up and stop that stupid crying!’

Through a gap in the boxes Johnny saw the nurse shaking Olwen, tearing off her overcoat and rummaging through its pockets.

‘What’s this? Cake! Cheese! Have you been thieving again?’

‘No, not stealing. It doesn’t belong to anyone. It’s rubbish.’

‘As if you don’t get enough for nothing! You’d better watch your step, my girl, or you’ll get thrown out. And then where will you be? That uncle of yours doesn’t want you back, you know. If you ask me he’s dumped you here, living off charity. Can’t say that I blame him. Nobody would want you, you nasty, deceitful little madam!’

Johnny wished he could defend Olwen. He wanted to jump out and tell the nurse about Olwen’s parents, and how she’d only just found out that she was all
alone in the world. But he had to stay quiet. The nurse wasn’t looking for him, and with luck she wouldn’t spot his hiding place. But it hurt to hear Olwen under attack.

‘I said stop that stupid grizzling!’ The arm of the giant shadow rose and swung. There was the unmistakable sound of flesh striking flesh. ‘Now, what have you got to say for yourself?’

Olwen sobbed and started to speak. ‘It’s my mam and dad. And my sister—’ she began, but the nurse was in no mood to listen.

‘I don’t want excuses. You’ve been here long enough to get over homesickness. Stop that snivelling and tell me where you got this food.’

Olwen was shaking with tears as the nurse slapped at the thin fabric of her pyjamas.

‘You’ve been rooting through the dustbins, haven’t you? You’re just a greedy, stinking animal. No better than a pig.’

Olwen’s next breath, caught up in tears and snot, came out as a noisy snort.

The nurse held the coat in the air. ‘And what about this? It looks like Dr Howell’s. Did you take it from the staff cloakroom? You know you’re not allowed to go in there.’

Olwen sniffed. The nurse picked one shoe up off the floor and wrenched the other from Olwen’s foot.

‘You’re coming with me to take these things back straight away. And since you like delving in dirt so much, you can spend the rest of the day scrubbing the outside toilets. You can start with the boys’. You’ll miss all the fun and games tonight, you nasty, scheming, ungrateful child!’

Olwen tried to speak, then bowed her head and left the room. The nurse followed her and slammed the door behind them, shutting Johnny in the dark again.

J
ohnny was furious with himself for saying nothing while Olwen was being attacked by the nurse. He made a silent promise that he would try to sort out Olwen’s predicament as soon as he’d completed his own mission. Then he waited until there was no sound from the other side of the door, and crept out into the corridor to search for Mrs Langford.

He could hear the angry nurse again, shouting somewhere in the distance. There were other noises too. He knew that only luck had stopped him being discovered already. After seeing how the nurse had treated Olwen, he doubted whether anyone would give him a chance to explain why he was there. Every time he turned a corner, he dreaded walking into a potential captor. Each creak and footfall was amplified in the part of his mind where terror lived.

Then, all at once, he found himself in a corridor with a dead end. He could hear footsteps: brisk,
feminine footsteps, closing in behind him. Someone was coming, and there was no way out. Panicking, he rehearsed his cover story: how he was there to find a Mrs J. W. Morgan – how he had brought her an important message that he had promised to deliver in private and in person. As the clicking of high-heeled shoes grew nearer, he flattened his body against the wall.

Except it wasn’t a wall. He was leaning on a pair of double doors that slowly began to give way under the pressure of his back. The footsteps were getting nearer, so he allowed himself to slip through into the dark unknown on the other side.

His eyes started adjusting. He could tell that this was a huge space, like the assembly hall at school. Then the doors opened again, swiftly and deliberately this time, and he squashed himself behind one of them as somebody came in. With the clunk of a heavy switch, there was a blast of light that blinded him for an instant. He blinked, then sneaked a look round the side of the door, trying to keep himself out of sight. With the lights on, the hall was transformed into a glorious theatre. Its blue walls and ivory ceiling were heavy with golden images of angels and harps. The flat curtain across the wide stage was decorated
with a gigantic painting of a warrior queen in a chariot pulled through the clouds by two white horses. At first Johnny was stunned; then he remembered what Hutch had told him: a famous opera singer had built a theatre as part of this grand house before it became a sanatorium.

A woman was shuffling between rows and rows of chairs, setting down a sheet of paper on each seat. Johnny recognized her straight away. He had known that upswept hair, the long graceful neck and those elegant movements all his life. It was Marie Langford. He couldn’t believe his luck and ran towards her. ‘Mrs Langford!’ he cried. ‘I’ve found you.’

She looked at him with horror and disbelief. ‘Johnny?’ she gasped. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

‘I had to find you, Mrs Langford. You must help me. Mrs Langford, it’s awful. They think my mother killed your husband. She’s in prison, Mrs Langford. She might die!’ He hugged her tightly, burying his face in the rough tweed of her suit.

She pulled his arms away and sat down on one of the chairs. ‘Be quiet, Johnny,’ she said, looking anxiously around to make sure that no one else was in earshot. ‘And don’t call me Mrs Langford. No
one here calls me that. If you let them know who I really am, we could both be in a lot of trouble.’

‘So you are J. W. Morgan, then?’

‘What? How do you know that?’

Johnny took the crumpled envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Change Your Appearance Permanently,’ he said. ‘You answered that advert. Mrs Langford, I know you want a disguise.’

Mrs Langford sat in silence, turning over the envelope while Johnny burbled on. ‘I knew it was you. And I’ve worked it all out. Someone is holding you prisoner here, aren’t they, Mrs Langford? That’s why you need the disguise, isn’t it? You want to escape.’

Mrs Langford was still for a few more seconds, then nodded, gazing down at the letter. ‘Tell me more, Johnny,’ she said quietly. ‘Tell me everything you know.’

‘Well, I know that my mother didn’t kill Dr Langford for a start—’ He stopped suddenly, remembering Olwen’s reaction to unexpected news. ‘Oh, Mrs Langford. I’m sorry. Forgive me. Did you know? Your husband is dead.’

She didn’t raise her head, but nodded, and whispered, ‘Yes, Johnny. I know.’

‘He was murdered, Mrs Langford. While you were in France—’

‘In France?’ She paused and mumbled, ‘Oh yes …’

Johnny was getting excited and talking more quickly. ‘And the police think my mother did it. But she didn’t, and you can tell them she didn’t. The police won’t take any notice of me. But they’ll listen to you. You know she’d never do a thing like that, don’t you?’

Mrs Langford said nothing.

‘Help me, Mrs Langford. Tell the police it was nothing to do with my mother. You must know it wasn’t. And you must have some idea who it was. I’ve worked that out too. It must have been somebody who knew about the BCG. Was it the Umckaloabo man? Was it somebody here? There was a Welshman who warned me to stop looking for you. Is it him, Mrs Langford? Did he kill your husband? Is that why he’s hiding you here? To keep you quiet?’

Mrs Langford pulled Johnny close to her and whispered urgently, ‘Johnny, you’re the one who had better keep quiet, or you are going to make things very difficult for both of us.’ She split her pile of papers in two and handed him half. ‘Come on. Help me put these out on the seats, and I’ll try to explain.’

Johnny took a look at the heading on the top sheet. It read:

He understood now why the nurse had told Olwen she’d be missing ‘fun and games’. ‘A pantomime? Is there going to be a pantomime?’ he asked.

‘Yes, Johnny. Tonight everyone at Craig-y-Nos will be in this hall. It’s a special treat. Now, come on. I haven’t got long to finish getting things ready.’

They walked between the rows putting out the programmes, and Mrs Langford began. ‘As you know, my husband was doing some important work to do with TB. One of his old students, Dr Howell, was producing the BCG vaccine for him – here, in the laboratory.’

Dr Howell
. Johnny had heard that name just a few minutes earlier. Olwen had been wearing his coat and shoes.

Mrs Langford continued: ‘My husband got him some of the original culture, and told him how to do it.’

Johnny’s mind ran on. ‘And then Dr Howell got jealous, and killed your husband so he could pretend the vaccine was all his own work.’

‘Oh, Johnny, what a clever boy you are,’ said Mrs Langford. ‘But it was worse than that. You see, Dr Howell wanted to sell the vaccine.’

‘Like the Umckaloabo man? The man who put that advert in the paper!’

‘Yes, Johnny. Just like him. But of course Dr Howell couldn’t advertise BCG openly because it was against the law for him to have it. So he planned to frighten people into thinking their children might die if they weren’t immunized, and then to charge them a fortune to buy the BCG secretly. He was going to target rich people. He knew they’d pay him a lot of money if he promised not to tell anyone that they’d used an illegal vaccine.’