Johnny Swanson - Eleanor Updale [5]
Winnie took the hint and asked Johnny to find her a bucket; then, while Winnie mopped, Mrs Slack listed her symptoms. Johnny tried not to listen. There were a lot of references to ‘down below’. Mrs Slack kept pointing at Johnny and then mouthing words silently. ‘I’d see the doctor,’ she said, at full volume, ‘but I don’t like to trouble him with my little problems.’
Johnny’s mother knew that she meant she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, pay. ‘Dr Langford’s retired now,’ she explained. Johnny could tell from her voice that she had said this many times. ‘But I could have a quiet word with him if you would like me to. It would save you going to that new man across town.’
‘No. No need to put yourself out,’ said Mrs Slack, in a tone that even Johnny recognized as meaning the exact opposite.
‘Well, we’ll be off then,’ said Winnie. And they left Mrs Slack tucking in to a boiled egg and moaning about how she would be on her own all day.
‘Poor soul,’ sighed Winnie as they started off up the hill, each of them holding one handle of the washing basket.
‘Do you think she really is ill?’ asked Johnny.
‘Maybe. Maybe not. But she doesn’t have much of a life, and someone’s got to take care of her. If my mother was still alive, I wouldn’t want her to be all alone like that. I’d hope someone would drop in and make sure she was all right. It’s the least I can do.’
Dr Langford’s house was up on the hill, directly opposite Miss Dangerfield’s. The doctor was leaving as Winnie and Johnny arrived. He was much older than Johnny’s mother, tall and spry, with wisps of grey hair at the back of a big bald patch. Johnny was fascinated by the way the structure of the doctor’s skull showed through the thin skin on his head. There was a prominent vein to one side that looked like a river on an ancient parchment map. You could see it throbbing when he was excited. Sometimes it seemed almost ready to pop. Today, Dr Langford hadn’t shaved properly, and there were clumps of stubble under his chin. His smart trousers were gathered into bicycle clips at his ankles.
‘My goodness, Doctor,’ said Johnny’s mother. ‘You’re up early.’
‘Yes, Winnie,’ said Dr Langford. ‘I had a call from the sanatorium at Emberley last night. I’m helping them with an emergency case. A little baby and her parents.’
‘Oh dear, the poor people,’ said Winnie.
‘It’s a shame,’ said the doctor, ‘but I have to admit to a certain excitement. It’s good to feel wanted even when you’ve retired.’ He bent down and pinched Johnny’s cheek in the way that adults think is playful, but actually hurts a lot. ‘And where are you off to so early, my boy? Surely it isn’t time for school yet?’
‘He has his paper round,’ said Johnny’s mother. ‘It gives him a bit of pocket money, you know.’
‘Of course,’ said Dr Langford. ‘I’ve seen you pushing the newspaper through the letter box. I’m sorry ours is so high up. It must be quite hard to reach.’ There was another painful pinch of the cheek. ‘You must eat up all your food, son. You’re a growing lad … or should be. How old are you now? Nine? Ten?’
‘Eleven,’ said Johnny, embarrassed, and all the more determined to get the Secret of Instant Height.
‘Well, I must be off,’ said the doctor, climbing onto his bike and adding, with a wink to Johnny, ‘I’ll give you a ride to the shop, if you like.’
He lifted Johnny up and helped him balance on the crossbar, then swung himself onto the saddle and started to pedal. The bike rocked unnervingly, and Johnny wished for a moment that he had turned down the offer. Winnie waved, but Johnny didn’t dare take his hands off the handlebars to wave back. The bike looped in a circle, but then steadied and picked up speed as the doctor’s bony knees pumped harder. Seconds later, they were zooming down the hill. Johnny loved the rush of the wind against his face, and whooped with delight as they sped past the church and pulled up, wobbling again, outside Hutchinson’s General Store