Johnny Swanson - Eleanor Updale [52]
‘An alcoholic drink?’
‘I believe so. Then she sat alone in the corner. She was trembling. I was surprised. You’d think she’d be at home, looking after her son. After all, there’s no man in the house.’
*
Hutch left the court. Even though it was early closing day, the evening papers had to be sorted and delivered. It was just as well that he had to go. He was seething at the picture of Winnie that was being painted, layer by layer; and he knew he should get away before he said something and landed himself in trouble. He wished he’d got to know Winnie better over the years; but she hadn’t lived in Stambleton before her marriage, and after Harry Swanson’s death Hutch had been afraid of being too forward – of seeming too interested in a young war widow, new to town. Yet Hutch knew enough about Winnie and about her son to find it impossible to believe in her guilt. He could think of nothing he could do to help her, but he was determined to shield Johnny from the worst of the evidence, and from the public reaction to her plight.
Even so, when he got back to the shop and found Johnny outside waiting eagerly for news, he had to be honest. ‘You’ll have to be strong, son,’ he said. ‘It isn’t over yet. I don’t think your mother will be home for Christmas.’
Chapter 25
ALONE
Hutch was right. The court decided that Winnie should face a full trial at the end of January. Johnny knew that would bring more torture at school. He’d already been given a new nickname: ‘Swingson’, which constantly reminded him that his mother might hang. He couldn’t face new taunts, so he composed a letter from Auntie Ada, saying that ‘under the circumstances’ it might be appropriate for him to start the Christmas holidays a little early. The headmaster agreed, with relief.
So Johnny had some free time; but he wasn’t allowed to visit his mother, and anyway the prison was two bus rides away. Hutch said he would go next Tuesday, when he’d be closing at lunch time, because it would be Christmas Eve. He told Johnny to make Winnie a card, wishing her well. Hutch would take her a present: something nice to eat, from the shop. But there was the best part of a week to wait until then, and no more school for Johnny.
When Winnie was arrested, he had worried constantly that someone would find out he was living on his own; but far from being troubled by busybodies, Johnny was frozen out by the people of Stambleton. No one visited. Nobody came to their door when he delivered their newspapers. People crossed the street rather than stop and talk to him. He couldn’t tell whether it was embarrassment or contempt that made them do it. He could feel himself being stared at, but no one came near enough to insult him or sympathize. He didn’t want to talk to them either. He stopped playing in the street. Alone in the house, he’d lost the urge to keep busy by tidying up, and even before the hearing he had found himself writing out adverts again. He’d felt guilty at first, after his realization on that terrible night that they had been the cause of the trouble, but he just couldn’t stop himself; and he wanted to keep Auntie Ada alive so that he wouldn’t be taken away to a children’s home.
But Johnny had plenty of time to think, and his determination to persuade the world that his mother couldn’t be a killer was gradually matched by an obsession that the real murderer must still be on the loose. Johnny realized that he knew something the police did not: Dr Langford had been working on the BCG vaccine – or at least someone at a laboratory ‘out in the wilds’ had been doing it on his behalf. Suppose that was the reason he had been killed? Johnny remembered how determined the Langfords had been to keep it a secret – how worried they were that someone might find out. What if somebody had? Johnny agonized about his promise not to say anything. Mrs Langford had been unambiguous: Whatever happens, whoever asks you, however much you feel like boasting – not a word. Did that mean he shouldn’t tell the police? Dr Langford was dead. He couldn’t suffer any more. But what about Mrs