Johnny Swanson - Eleanor Updale [4]
‘Well, come and sit in the warm,’ said his mother, shifting the clothes horse to make room by the fire. She caught her arm on the hot face of the iron, and stifled a curse. ‘Oh, how stupid of me to have left that there,’ she snapped, licking at a red mark on her skin. ‘Get me down the ointment. It’s on the top shelf.’
Johnny climbed on the arm of a chair and reached up to where his mother had kept all the dangerous and delicate things since he was a toddler. There were a couple of dusty jars of pills; a fine china mug decorated with flags and the word PEACE, which had been given out at the end of the war; and a flat round tin with elaborate writing on the top: Dr Sampson’s Patent Ointment for Cuts, Burns and Stings. A Soothing Solution in All Situations. The lid was going a bit rusty at the edges, but he managed to prise it off, revealing a block of pungent brown cream, with a trace of the last finger that had scooped out a little, months before. His mother dipped in again, and started rubbing the oily mixture onto her burn.
‘You’d better put it back straight away,’ she said, ‘so that we know where it is next time. Make sure you put the lid on tight or it will dry up.’
So Johnny climbed on the chair again. And while he was up there, and Winnie had her back to him, sorting out the ironing things, he took a look inside the china mug. He’d always known that his mother kept money in it: special secret bits of change that she felt she could spare to save up for Christmas – and he’d always known that he mustn’t touch it. But he could see that there were coins inside – most of them coppers, but some of them silver.
He knew he shouldn’t even think of taking the money, but for the rest of the evening he planned what he would do when his mother was asleep. So in the middle of the night he crept downstairs in the chilly dark, and tipped the money out of the mug and onto the table. Although it was cold, his hands were slippery with sweat. He dropped a penny. The coin rolled and then spun on the stone floor. It seemed ages before it came to a stop. Johnny froze, certain that his mother must have heard it; worried that she might even be able to hear his breathing, which sounded appallingly loud to him. He had no idea how he would explain what he was doing if she came in, but he wanted the Secret of Instant Height so much that he had to take the risk. There was no sound from her room. He counted the money. It came to nine shillings and sevenpence. He only needed two-and-six, with a few pence more for the envelopes and stamps.
He gathered up three shillings, and carefully put the rest back in the mug. The level of money had obviously dropped. Never mind: tomorrow he would get some stones to put under the cash, so that the theft didn’t show. But surely it wasn’t theft? It was borrowing. He promised himself that he would replace the coins, little by little, with the money Hutch paid him for delivering the papers. He wouldn’t spend it on sweets or comics. By Christmas there would be nine shillings and sevenpence in the mug again. His mother would never know that any had been missing. And in the meantime, Johnny would have the Secret of Instant Height. That was all he cared about now.
Chapter 3
SENDING OFF
The next morning, Johnny left the house earlier than usual to help his mother carry the basket of sheets back to the Langfords’. On the way Winnie stopped off to check on their neighbour, Mrs Slack. She was an elderly widow who looked pretty healthy to Johnny, but always complained that she was ill. Winnie had mentioned once that she had ‘trouble with her nerves’.
‘Shall I do this washing-up for you, Mrs Slack?’ asked Winnie, rolling up her sleeves and putting the kettle on to boil.
Mrs Slack waved her arm weakly in the direction of the sink. ‘I just couldn’t face it