The food has been devoured not a scrap left on my plate, the old dog as surveyed them with such a feeling of hate, grumbling and snarling he'd gone off to his bed. Anyone will think the fat old sod was really very poorly fed. The goings in the basement had added to the entertainment no doubt.
It had been a good beginning to the evening having a bit dance about, Rock and roll and twist and shout had created a party mood, even the odd smooch chucked in had been quite good. The lull in the conversation when we sat down to eat was soon filled up with such a mysterious ghostly treat.
Music came through the heating vents so loud and clear, get the children up from the basement would you my dear" my other was so good when it came to a command, but my brother stepped in and complied with this demand, he left the dining room and immediately the music came to an end.
When he returned he was shocked and didn't pretend, the record player was un plugged
and the records in a pile, the record player was cold as though it hasn't been used for a while" I think this little episode had been the cause of the consumption of drink. At least
now the conversation had gone well with a nod and a wink.
The conclusion was that it must be a kid's prank, well the only other suggestion the ghost, to be quite frank this old house was built by a Quaker family and supposedly had a ghost.
She was searching for her missing baby at least that was the boast, the gossip is that the master of the house not wanting to trouble his wife.
Would be accommodated by a maid gave much hassle and strife, I presume one maid must
have had a child to the master, this must of quite a disaster, enough of this crap I though to myself putting out the light. I know that I am really tired and will sleep well tonight.
I climb the stairs praying my other half is asleep.
I gently open the door and in the bedroom I creep, I undress without making even making
the slightest noise, then I proceed to the bed and trip over one of the kids toys." I didn't hear you come upstairs my dear are you all right? just that stupid toy gave me such a fright" He gives me a quick peck on the cheek for " goodnight"
"Is it still raining so heavy and was that a bolt of light? " yes it was lightening" and just the there was a succession more, that one seemed as though it came right over the floor"
will you go down stairs and get the trip switch? I'm not amused, off I go in the darkness and then again the lightening flashing.
From the dining room far below clashing, what on earth can it be, my knees are trembling so much. Even the barrister feels icy cold to the touch, both of the dinning room doors slam and almost die. From the floor above my Mother lets out a faint cry.
Your dad's gone down the dinning room candles to bring, so we can put a bit light on everything.
"That must have been all the banging I heard" just then my father raced up to me unable to utter a word, his face was lily white and a look of fear in his eyes. We sat on the stairs
and eventually he explained his surprise " I went to the dining room to get the candles you know, and when I opened the door I tripped over this white figure on the floor.
I grabbed the candle stick and raced out the other door, I've never been so terrified and will never go in that room anymore. The white figure jumped up and squealed and frightened the hell out of me. " You give me a candle and have you got a light so I can see, I'lL go and put the trip switch back on if I can " you shouldn't be going on your own- you are not a man"
"Don't worry about me just take those candles upstairs that will be have, check on the kids and I will bring you a good stiff brandy" My other half is leaning over to enquire about the fuss, still he will let me go and check "Oh god he's such a woss" At least I have the candle light so I'm not totally in the dark.
I am petrified but I daren't make a remark, I don't really believe in ghosts but something petrified my Dad. On the ground floor I slowly passed the dining room door feeling bad.
Part of my wanted to open the door and check, but the other said leave it tonight "what the heck" I passed and made my way to the kitchen and the fuse box. In the candle light I
could see my old cook with both hands in his grey locks.
He was rubbing his head and had a frightening look on his face, I went over to the fuse box, tripped the switch back and lit the place, I poured half a dozen brandies and placed them on a tray, I passed one to the cook and he swallowed it straight away. I took the tray back upstairs and we all had a drink. " you better have the last extra one Dad " I pass it with a wink.
"Well I didn't believe in ghosts until the events of today, " I don't think any of us did but what can I say? " I went to bed but I never closed my eyes, tonight had definitely give me quite a surprise. At seven I got up and made my way back down for tea, the old was up and had the kettle boiled for me, I poured him a cup and sat him next to me. " why were you sitting in the kitchen last night so lonely? "
" I was lying on the dining room floor cause the bed is so soft, I think the stone floor is better that the wooden one in the loft. We cannot sleep unless bed very hard for my back, I lie on the floor and ghost walk over me and screen. Me jump up and me scream, me think me dream, I run out the door and come and hide in here" how all the pieces all fit together and I give a smile.
How I know the reason that Dad ran a mile, the cook was lying in his white trousers and shirt on the floor, and Dad in his light grey dressing gown, I smile some more, Dad must have tripped over him and let out a scream. The old cook thought it was a ghost that he'd seen not a dream. No prizes for guessing what we discussed over lunch.
The ghost series came to earth with a crunch, after lunch I went into the study some letters to find, when I went to pick up my pen up, a small gust of wind caused the letters to blow off the table and all over the floor. And I swear I saw the edge of a grey skirt disappearing through the door.
Other post by this author are:-
My Grand Daughter's Hen Party.
