Johnny Swanson - Eleanor Updale [21]
Johnny read the advert through several times, trying to get his tongue round the strange word ‘Umckaloabo’. It sounded like something from Africa. With his practised eye, he couldn’t help calculating the price of such a wordy advertisement in a high-circulation paper. With all the special layout to make it look like a news story, you wouldn’t get much change from three pounds. Chas. H. Stevens of Wimbledon must have great faith in what he was selling, particularly as he wasn’t asking his customers for any money up front.
Johnny’s heart quickened. Maybe this advertisement was indeed the ‘wonderful news’ it claimed to be. Perhaps Mr Stevens really had found a cure for TB. If that was so, shouldn’t Dr Langford be told? Perhaps he could use Umckaloabo to help Olwen’s family. Johnny knew the Langfords didn’t take Reynolds’s News. They wouldn’t have seen the advertisement themselves. He took out some scissors from the drawer under the counter and carefully cut it out.
*
After work, Johnny went straight up the hill to Dr Langford’s house to tell him about Umckaloabo. Mrs Langford opened the door. She was tall and slim, like her husband, but while his limbs tended to flail around in an ungainly way, hers moved with an effortless grace, even though she sometimes put her hand to her back, as if it hurt to bend. Her steel-grey hair was twisted up at the back in a chignon. Johnny knew that was what it was called because he’d seen a diagram showing how to do it in the paper only that morning. Winnie had often admired Mrs Langford’s clothes, saying how well-made they were, and how well co-ordinated. Johnny had no opinion on how Mrs Langford’s skirt and blouse were constructed, but he could see that they matched. Both were a deep shade of blue.
‘Hello, Johnny,’ said Mrs Langford. ‘Are you looking for your mother? She went home hours ago.’
‘No. I’ve brought something for Dr Langford,’ said Johnny, pulling the crumpled cutting from his pocket. ‘It’s important. I think Dr Langford ought to know. Someone’s found a cure for TB.’
‘Well, if they really have, he’ll be fascinated. Not to say amazed. Let me have a look at that. You’d better come in.’ She took the cutting and showed Johnny into the drawing room. ‘You sit by the fire and get warm. Now, where are my glasses?’
Johnny watched her search the room, which had more places to lose things than in his entire home. She ran her hand along the bookshelves, shook out plump cushions, dug down the back of the soft sofa and shuffled through piles of newspapers and magazines. ‘I don’t know where they get to. I must have had them just before I came to answer the door. Now, let’s see. What was I doing when you arrived?’ She paused and thought back. ‘That’s it. I was sewing. I was sitting just where you are now.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Johnny, jumping up. ‘I didn’t know this was your chair.’
‘Don’t be silly. You’re my guest. You can sit where you like. Just forgive me a moment.’ Johnny heard her knees click as she bent down and scrabbled on the floor behind his feet. She pulled out a work basket. An old sock dangled from under the lid. ‘I remember now. I slid it there when the bell rang – just in case it was the vicar or someone like that. I wouldn’t want him to catch me darning holes!’
Johnny held the basket while Mrs Langford, sighing, hauled herself back up again. Then she took it back, and lifted out her spectacles. ‘If I had sixpence for every time I’ve lost these, I’d be a very rich woman,’ she joked. ‘I’ve seen people with their glasses on special strings round their necks. Rather an ageing effect, I’ve always thought.