The Corruption of Innocence

Chapter 15

Jack was still limping slightly as he came out of the doctors. He had been given dressings and was told by the doctor to wash the cuts on his face and body with antiseptic cream every evening.

As he walked down the street, he noticed a group of peelers leading a young boy about his age, maybe even younger, into an awaiting cart. Across the street, Jack's friend Paul Warrington was watching the company, and then sprinted over to Jack when he spotted him.

"What's happening?" Jack asked.

"They've found Charles Robinson guilty of arson of them two barns up on Westfield Farm. They're hanging him up at Devises today."

"Hanging?" Jack repeated, pulse rising. "For arson?"

"Aye, mad isn't it? They reckon he'll be the fourth youngest person to be hanged in Britain, after John Dean."

Jack's blood froze.

He knew the story of John Dean.

"He was eight, wasn't he?" Jack stammered. Paul nodded, seemingly oblivious to his friend's horror.

"That's right. He did what Charles did, set fire to some barns at a farmhouse. He had his whole life ahead of him, he could've turned things around, but they took that opportunity away from him and killed him instead. Cowardice, that's what that was, poor lad. He must've been so scared. Hanging's meant to be awful. It's like strangulation. They reckon John's neck broke when the noose dropped and that's what killed him. Some might call that lucky, I guess. It could've taken much longer for him to die. Are you alright, Jack?"

"I'm fine."

"What were you doing at the doctors, anyway?"

"I got into a scrap."

"Who with?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yep," was the short, tense reply. Paul looked at him with scrutiny, but then accepted the response and carried on talking.

"Do you wanna hang around?"

Paul found Jack's eyes slithering over his left shoulder, where Jack could see the small figure of Ryan walking down the street, back to him. He quickly became tired of Paul's eyes searching him, penetrating him like bullets, and forced a small smile.

"No, no, it's ok. I have to go home, mum wanted to show me something, I think she's done something with the bar or something, put a Davinci picture up or something."

Despite trying to get Paul off his case, he found his stare more confused and penetrating than ever. Longing to get away, he gave him a quick hug.

"See you later, yeah?"

Dumbstruck, Paul nodded. "Yeah, see you."

Inwardly breathing a sigh of relief, Jack stole swiftly down the street, leaving Paul looking after him, still feeling puzzled and perplexed. There was something wrong, even though Paul, who was older by 4 years, couldn't put his finger on what. He gave Jack one last thoughtful glance and then  turned and walked off, frowning.

"Ryan!"

The 12-year-old was unsure whether to stop or carrying on walking as he heard Jack's desperate voice calling after him. In the end he did stop but did not turn around as Jack approached him.

"Ryan," the boy said again, standing behind him. He waited and finally Ryan turned around, eyes red and face pale.

"I'm going to the police station to tell them what Philip did to Henry Smith."