Johnny Swanson - Eleanor Updale [68]
‘I’ve got a letter. It’s somehow ended up here, and I’m thinking that it might be important. It has that sort of “urgent” look you get a feel for, if you see what I mean. But the handwriting is very bad. Let me tell you what I think it says.’ He read out the Craig-y-Nos address, spelling it out with all the hyphens, and pretending to have trouble reading it, though it was, in fact, perfectly legible – if a little unusual.
Johnny could hear the voice of the man at the other end, but he couldn’t work out what he was saying in the long pauses between Hutch’s questions. Eventually Hutch ended the call. ‘Right you are, then. Many thanks. I’ll forward it on.’
Johnny couldn’t wait to hear what Hutch had found out.
‘Well,’ said Hutch, as he put down the receiver. ‘That was very interesting indeed. This Craig-y-Nos place. The name means Dark Rock, or Rock of the Night.’
‘Never mind that,’ said Johnny impatiently. ‘Where is it? What’s it like?’
‘It really is a castle, apparently – but a modern one. And it used to belong to a famous opera singer: Adelina Patti. She spent a fortune on it. It’s got its own theatre, massive grounds, even its own station. Oh, she was a big star before the war.’ Hutch seemed to have become infected with the Welsh postmaster’s long-windedness.
Johnny interrupted again. ‘What would Mrs Langford be doing staying with an opera singer?’
‘Ah, but that’s the thing, see. Madame Patti’s long dead. And Craig-y-Nos Castle isn’t a private residence any more. It’s been turned into a hospital.’
Johnny gasped, and Hutch delivered his next fact with a flourish of triumph. ‘And guess what kind of hospital it is?’
Johnny was bursting with anticipation, desperate for Hutch to get on with it.
Hutch puffed out his chest, and announced: ‘Craig-y-Nos Castle, Johnny, is now a sanatorium.’
‘That’s it!’ yelled Johnny. ‘Mum was right. That’s what this whole business is all about. Everything’s linked to phthisis.’
‘It seems so, Johnny. But please call it TB like everyone else.’
‘Shall we tell the police?’ said Johnny. ‘Surely they’ll listen to us now?’
‘Yes, I’ll phone them straight away.’
Hutch went back into the booth. Johnny hovered outside trying to listen in, but Hutch dropped his voice very low when he heard the bell on the shop door announce the arrival of a customer. Johnny served her. She was curt with him, like most people nowadays, and made it clear that she had only come in because she had unexpectedly run out of matches, and it wasn’t worth her while to walk to another shop to buy some more. She left just as Hutch slammed down the phone. Johnny opened the door to the kiosk, hoping for good news. Instead, he found Hutch punching the wall with rage. He had never heard him curse before.
‘It’s no good,’ said Hutch. ‘Johnny, there’s nothing we can do to get through to those people. They’ve made their decision. As far as they’re concerned, your mother’s guilty, and anything you or I say is just made up to try to get her off. He wouldn’t even give me time to tell him that we’d found Mrs Langford.’
‘So what can we do now?’ said Johnny. ‘Do you think we should go to Craig-y-Nos ourselves and find out what’s going on?’
‘I’d like to, Johnny. Believe me, I would. But I can’t leave the shop.’
‘Surely it wouldn’t matter if you closed – just for a day or so?’
‘The shop would be all right,’ said Hutch. ‘To be honest, it’s costing me money to open since all this fuss. It’s the post office I’m worried about. I have a legal duty to run it. People need the service. I can’t just shut it down.’
‘But what would happen if you were ill?’
‘I’d have to contact Head Office, and they would send a substitute postmaster. But they wouldn’t like it. And if they found out afterwards that I hadn’t been ill at all, I’d probably lose my job. I’d never be able to be a public servant again.