Soulmaker

  Chapter 16

  Ashden opened the front door after spending the morning racking his brain for a solution and was nearly bowled over by the change. A vermillion wall beside an aqua wall leading onto a hot pink wall drew him into the kitchen that his mother was busily painting orange.

  “Wow,” he exclaimed without the level of enthusiasm he normally displayed.

  His mother smiled gently at him and dipped her brush back into the pot.

  “Old Reg’ll be pleased. He was asking after you the other day.” He hadn’t bothered to tell his mother earlier about Reg and small talk may as well occupy his mind for a while until he could get his head together.

  “Reg,” she paused mid stroke. “He was kind to us.”

  A light flashed in Ashden’s head, “Did Reg know Mr Johnson, my old teacher?”

  “Reg used to take you to school,” she gazed off dreamily before resuming painting.

  Ashden couldn’t believe he’d never thought about the connection before. Reg would be sure to know what happened to Mr Johnson. He’d asked him at the time of course, but Reg had made out he didn’t know anything. Had he just been trying to protect him? Perhaps Ashden’s psychiatrist had got to him and warned him against allowing contact. It wasn’t impossible. Ashden knew his school principal had warned everyone about Mr Johnson filling his head with crazy ideas at such a vulnerable time in his life.

  “Mum, I’ll be back later.” He had no time to explain, not that he would be required to. Once again he left the screen door slamming in his wake.

  Ashden knocked on the brick red front door of Reg and Elizabeth Woodburn’s house. “Come on, come on,” he muttered.

  The door swung wide and Elizabeth’s delighted smile welcomed him into their immaculate cross stitched home. “Why Ashden Jaybanks, how are you, my boy? Haven’t you grown? Do come in, dear. Reg, look who’s turned up on our door!”she called to the back rooms and out shuffled Reg.

  “Ashden, good to see you again. Got the taste of butterscotch, have you?” he chortled and sat down on the couch.

  “Take a seat, dear, and I’ll fetch you both some tea.” Mrs Woodburn headed off to the kitchen while Ashden launched into the reason for his visit.

  “Mr Woodburn. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by, but I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Of course not. Here have a butterscotch. You know, it’s a coincidence you came by. I was only talking to Dr Holstearn yesterday at the hospital about Charlie Portman who used to go school with your father’s best friend, ah, what’s his name? Roger, yes Roger, now there’s an interesting story.”

  Ashden clenched his teeth. “Oh really.”

  Mrs Woodburn popped her head in the room, “And what about some scones? I baked a fresh batch this morning.”

  “Um, sure. Thanks.”

  “And don’t you sit there and listen to all Reg’s stories. You’ll be falling off your chair asleep before I get those scones on a plate. You hear that Reg? No stories.”

  Reg made a face at Ashden as she left, suitably chastised. “Sorry, lad. What did you want to see me about? Need some help with your mum?”

  “Not quite, Mr Woodburn. Well, sort of. Mum said you knew my old teacher, Mr Johnson.”

  Reg shifted in his chair as if he couldn’t quite get comfortable. He hesitated, popped a butterscotch in his mouth and answered over the click of the sweet against his teeth, “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Then, do you know what happened to him? I tried to find out when he left but no one told me anything. I really want to get in touch with him and if you know his address I’d be really grateful if you could give it to me.” He tried not to sound too frantic or pleading.

  “You say you never knew what happened to him?”

  “No, just rumours that he went a bit mad, or that he got hurt and had to leave.”

  Reg crunched his lolly thoughtfully. He rubbed his chin and took another one from the jar.

  “Ashden, your teacher, Bill Johnson, hasn’t had the best run of luck. People kept things quiet from you because they knew you were a bit vulnerable at that stage, what with your father disappearing like he did. Oh thank you, Elizabeth,” he paused to take his cup of tea.

  “Everything all right, Ashden?” she asked.

  He smiled reassuringly. “Just fine,” he said, sipping his tea and reaching for a scone to appease her. Only once he’d swallowed a mouthful did she leave.

  “Go on,” said Ash, putting the remainder of his scone on the plate and leaning in to hear more.

  “Well, Bill was born here in Scrubstone. He had a younger sister who died when he was just a lad. She was found at the bottom of their staircase, neck twisted and not a breath in her poor body. On the same day that she died, Bill disappeared. He was gone for years and there was a lot of suspicion surrounding that, I can tell you. Especially seeing his father was the police Sergeant,” Reg nodded dramatically.

  “Then one day he turned up, out of the blue as if nothing had happened. He couldn’t answer a single question about where he’d been. Not with any sense anyways. There were a lot of problems in the home after that with his father’s drinking and a few too many bruises on his wife’s eyes and all that talk about Bill being crazy. Not long after, his father drank himself silly and hung himself on a tree. That one in your school playground,” Reg added in hushed tones. “They say young Bill saw the whole thing. If he wasn’t crazy before, he sure had reason to be after that! His mother couldn’t stand the gossip and she took him back to England to be with her family. Never saw him again till he turned up to teach at the school only a few years back.” Reg dropped a sugar cube into his cup and stirred.

  “Bill seemed all right at first but he soon started to show signs of madness. Nothing frightful, just an over the top interest in an imaginary world. Imaginary animals coming to get him, that sort of thing. Harmless, but it was a sign that it was time to retire. Time to relax.”

  Ashden knew exactly what the obsession was and knew there was nothing imaginary about it.

  “That and the gossip round town that it was him who murdered his own sister then ran away to hide,” Reg added, slurping a good deal of his tea but keeping his eyes fixed on Ashden.

  “Now the poor chap did have a fall in the bathroom not long after that and broke his hip. Said he was attacked by a wild animal. He was stuck in the shower for two days before he was found and by that stage he was raving like a loon, apparently. His step sister came over from England to sort things out,” Reg shook his head. “When the police came round investigating, she helped them all she could. Wanted things tidied up so she could get back home and she was no friend of her step brother. Turns out he wasn’t a teacher at all. The Department was caught completely red faced on that one. They rushed right in and shut the whole story down. On top of that, his step sister told the police that he’d confessed to killing his sister and even been the one to strangle his own father with the branches of that tree! Can you believe it? There were quite a few charges he had to face before the courts, in the end. Poor fella. He went from bad to worse. I didn’t follow what happened exactly, but I know they locked him up in a sanatorium so he could get the kind of care he needed. I visited him there once. Awful place.”

  “That’s terrible. Is he still there?”Ashden asked hopefully.

  “I believe so.”

  Ashden’s eyes brimmed with hope. He straight away discounted insanity and didn’t care about the fake credentials nor the accusation about him murdering his father. That fig was more than capable of that! But the murder of his sister?

  “There sure was more to him than I realised. Do you really think he killed her?”

  “His sister? Blast, no! I don’t know what happened to that girl but it was nothing to do with Bill,” said Reg without conviction. “Mind you, the way he was treated, he might as well have.”

  “Mmm. Thanks so much for telling me the truth at last. You know how you hear stories? Maybe I’ll write a card for him, cheer him up a
bit,” said Ashden thinking fast, “I can send it through the post if you give me the address.

  “Through the post? I thought you young people only used a computer or a mobile to get in touch.”

  “Oh not me, Mr Woodburn. We don’t have a computer and I can’t afford a mobile.”

  “Ah,” said Reg. He put his hand to his chin and drew his papery skin down. Ashden noticed his reluctance. “Mum will be sure to want to send him a Christmas card this year now we’ve found out where he is. She wants to thanks everyone who helped me through. She knows it was hard. It’ll make her feel like she’s back in touch with the world. Might do the same for him too.”

  Reg clapped his hands to his knees, “I reckon you’re right, young lad. There’s plenty of smarts about you, that’s for sure.” He stood up from his chair to find the address and added with a conspiratorial touch of his nose, “Now don’t bandy this about, Ashden. Remember a lot of people weren’t happy with Mr Johnson and it wouldn’t do to spread his whereabouts around. He needs rest not harassment.”

  “Absolutely, don’t worry about that at all. He was good to me and I just want to say thanks,” Ashden said, tapping his fingers on the tea cup.

  “Elizabeth, can you bring the address book in for me, dear?” he called.

  His wife entered with the book and a knowing smile. “Having a good chat?”

  “Oh, yes thank you, dear. We had a bit of a catch up, didn’t we Ashden?”

  “None of your stories, I hope, Regie.”

  “Lizzie dearest, would I do that?”

  After a quick scribble on a scrap of paper, the address was handed over under Elizabeth’s long lasting smile. Ashden took it appreciatively.

  “Thank you both very much,” he said and placed the cup on the card table and almost ran to the door. “Oh and Mum started painting again, Mr Woodburn. She’ll be all right now.”

  “I’m sure she will. You’re a good son, Ashden, and she’s proud of you, I know it. Take care and drop in again soon.”

  “Want to take a scone for Mum?” called Mrs Woodburn but his feet were already pounding the pavement.