Johnny Swanson - Eleanor Updale [11]
‘I could do more work at the shop,’ he said. ‘Hutch is always complaining that he’s too busy. I’ll ask him tomorrow.’ As he spoke, Johnny thought of another advantage. He could keep his mother away from Hutch, so she wouldn’t find out about ‘Auntie Ada’. ‘And if I’m working there,’ he added, ‘I can bring our groceries home with me. You won’t have to go shopping at all. That will give you more time to take on extra work, if you can find it.’
Winnie was wringing out Johnny’s sopping shorts. ‘I don’t know how we’ll get these dry in time for school tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll have to light the fire again.’
So Johnny felt even more guilty, seeing money go up in smoke because of him.
He didn’t sleep much that night. For the first time in years, he took his old toy rabbit to bed with him, clutching its floppy body for comfort as he worried about the rent, the Peace Mug money, and his new friend Olwen, somewhere in Wales, possibly facing death. Every time he felt close to sleep a new anxiety arrived and he was wide awake again, imagining homelessness, shame and disease. At one a.m. he was weeping, trying to think of ways to get back at the people at Box 23. Should he tell the Stambleton Echo about the Secret of Instant Height? Shouldn’t they know that a scam was being run from their own paper? He might not be the only one who had been tricked into sending a postal order. The person who put in the advert might be making a fortune …
And that’s when the idea came to him: so clear and exciting that he sat bolt upright in bed. If they can do it, so can I, he thought. If I could fall for a trick like that, surely plenty of other people would too!
He spent the rest of the night thinking out his plan. At first he was full of enthusiasm. He got out of bed and paced the room, muttering to his toy rabbit. He would have to find out how the advertising pages worked, but that wouldn’t be difficult. After all, he had plenty of papers in his delivery bag every day. There must be something printed in them to tell you how to place an advert. He’d put one in as soon as possible, and sit back to wait for the replies.
The replies! How would he get them? He couldn’t have them sent to his house, or his mother would find out what he was doing. He knew she wouldn’t approve. He’d need a box number, like the Instant Height people. But then he’d have to find a way to slip over to the newspaper offices to collect them. And he’d need to work out how to cash postal orders without arousing Hutch’s suspicion.
By half past one it all seemed too complicated. Johnny got back into bed. How could he hope to organize such an intricate scheme when he already faced the problem of disposing of ‘Auntie Ada’ in a way that would stop Hutch mentioning her to his mother? Surely he should see to that first …
He nuzzled up to the rabbit’s threadbare fur, breathing in its familiar dusty smell as he tried to work out what to do. Maybe he should just own up and tell Hutch that ‘Auntie Ada’ had never existed … Or maybe … Maybe … He yawned, and felt himself drifting off to sleep at last, only to be jolted awake again by the sound of the town hall clock striking two, and the arrival of another idea.
Maybe ‘Auntie Ada’ should stay in his life. Perhaps she could be part of his advertising plan. Johnny would explain to Hutch that his mother couldn’t do her own shopping any more because she was busy looking after her invalid sister. And he would account for the postal orders by saying that he was cashing them on behalf of his aunt.
It was brilliant. But Johnny knew it was wrong. At a quarter to three he resolved to abandon the whole thing, deciding it would be simpler to admit what he had already done, and to face his mother’s anger and (worse) her disappointment. He wiped his tears on the rabbit’s ears, envisaging the scene as he confessed to stealing the money. Then he imagined what would happen if the advertising scheme worked. He pictured himself cashing postal orders, replacing the money in the Peace