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An Almanac of Ghost Stories (Wesson) PDF

321 Pages·2009·1.9 MB·English
by  Echoes
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Echoes An Almanac of Ghost Stories By Neil Wesson 1 Contents A Ghost of a Life Brough Shorts: A Lament for Eilean Mor Blackburns' Ghost A Long Awaited Landing The Nightshift A Message from the Grave Bakers Dozen An Experimental Haunting Ballard of the Piper Bus Station Blues Cries From the Deep Curtain Call Drawing on Innocence Here be Monsters Subterranean Menace Temporal Line Works Terminal Death at Blackfriars The Baker Street Irregulars The Beachcomber The Brake Van The Chimes at Midnight The Division Bell The Drummer Boys' Ghost The Erroneous Judgement The Ghosts of Christmas Past The God Forsaken Rock The Lighthouse Keeper The Phantom of High Street The Radio Operator The Saint Stevens Day Hunt The Signalman’s Ghost The Stairway The Tomb of Lord Holderness The Undiscovered Country The Waiting Room The Walled Up Room Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow Where’s Bob 2 Other Works by Neil Wesson A Collection of Ghost Stories The Bell Rock Mystery All Published via LULU.com All Characters and situations in this publication are entirely fictional and resemble no actual events in the present, past or future. 3 For Kirsty, Sam & Jacob. I would like to thank Sue Baker For her help in the production on this work 4 5 “The world is full enough, no ghosts need apply.” Sherlock Holmes The Sussex Vampire 6 A Ghost of a Life Raymond Vincent was a quiet, reserved and private man. It was not surprising after the life he had led. He kept his emotional barriers constantly in place and not letting anyone see his innermost feelings or indeed share his private thoughts was paramount to him. At the vulnerable age of seventeen he had lost his elderly father to liver failure. He had been a man who had lived life to the extreme, work hard, play hard was his motto. He had drunk heavily most of his life and then at sixty he had paid the ultimate price. A kind and loving father always, Raymond had missed his guiding hand in life. This event had changed Raymond’s life indescribably and from the moment of his father’s death, his life was no longer his own. His time was divided between his work as a computer aided design engineer and the welfare of his ageing mother. Any spare time he had was dedicated to her and the running of the house. All the usual trappings of youth never caught hold of him; as far as he was concerned they never existed. Ten years later following the death of his mother he made the biggest and hardest decision of his life and moved into a house closer to his place of work. Leaving his old home behind, he began a new life in his new abode. Life for him did not change as much as he had expected. His working life was back into the normal routine, starting at seven thirty in the morning and leaving at five thirty in the evening. Home life was also in a familiar cycle. Monday and Tuesday were dedicated to washing and ironing while Wednesday night was housework night. He had normally finished his domestic chores by nine o’clock so the rest of the night was his own. The evening meal was normally a simple affair; pasta, a selection of vegetables all covered in some kind of cook-in sauce. Recently though he had paused at the freezer section of his local supermarket and made a remarkable discovery, microwave meals. Starting with a cheese and pasta dish, not wanting to be too adventurous, he took it home and put it in the microwave eagerly anticipating trying the meal that was now slowly turning in the cardboard tray. Sitting with a tray on his knee he tried the piping hot meal. Why had he been cooking with pans for all these years when he could just press a couple of buttons? The next week in the supermarket he 7 realised that a whole new world had been opened up to him. Piling his trolley high with curries, chillies and a whole Sunday dinner he made his way to the till. Raymond’s nights consisted of a little television and a lot of reading. He was not a fan of soap operas or reality shows, so generally he turned off the set around seven thirty. Ray sat in his living room reading; the clocks had gone back several weeks previously and the nights were drawing in fast; what’s more Christmas was looming. This would be the first without either of his parents and the thought of spending the festive season alone had not crossed his mind until now. As an attempt to try to enter into the spirit of the season he decided to read the Dickens novel ‘A Christmas Carol.’ He was soon engrossed in the tale of the miserly old man. As he read of scrooge and his meeting with the ghosts of his old partners, Ray had the uneasy feeling that he was being watched. The feeling was so intense that he dare not look up from his book until the feeling had passed. The following night as he read of the first ghost’s visit to Scrooge, he had that same uneasy feeling. The old, well worn saying sprang to mind but in this instant it really did feel as though someone had walked across his grave. He buried himself in his book but as the chapter came to an end he could bear it no longer. Slowly he looked up and across the room. Sitting on the settee under the window, curtains now closed, was a slightly unnatural looking man. He was older and greyer than Ray, but bore a strange likeness to him. Ray stared at the ghostly figure for several minutes. Somehow he knew it to be a phantom; was it a trick of his mind. Had he fallen asleep while reading the ghostly tale and he was manifesting this illusion in his mind? Each night the spectre returned sitting in the same spot saying and doing nothing and each night Ray said nothing to the visitor. He never tried to communicate with the phantom at all; was it out of fear? No he was enjoying having the company; the house seemed warmer with another presence. 8 It was a strange thing to have a ghost occupying one’s living room. It was not the sort of thing he could bring up at the coffee machine at work; he would be laughed out of the building for just bringing up the subject. His colleagues’ minds were mostly closed on such subjects as this, so he learned to live with it. Christmas was now only a few days away and as he put the finished Dickens novel down on the arm of the settee he looked across at the phantom. The two glasses of wine consumed had taken effect now; so with a large dose of Dutch courage he spoke to the ghost, “Who are you?” he asked in a slightly slurred voice. The spirit seemed to pause for a moment before looking at Ray. Then it spoke, although the lips on its cold white face did not move. The voice Ray could hear speaking to him was inside his head, is this how all ghosts communicated? The voice was chilling, but warm and friendly all at once, “I am yourself Raymond Vincent.” it said. Ray was starting to feel dizzy, the effects of the wine were taking hold, “Sorry?” he said not believing what he was hearing. The spirit replied, “I am your own ghost and here to help you.” The words held Ray’s attention and he was desperate for more knowledge, “If you follow the path you currently walk you will die in ten years time. You will die alone in this very room, in this very chair where I now sit.” Ray was paralysed, how could he reply to such a statement. ‘Hang on’ he thought I don’t even know if this spectre is real or just a figment of my imagination. Was he dreaming; substituting himself into the role of Scrooge? It seemed real enough; dreams always do until you wake up that is. Why not go along with it, “How?” “How?” the spectre started at him wearing a hard expression. “Yes, how?” Ray no more believed in ghosts than he did aliens or the theory of Atlantis. “You die of boredom.” “What?” “You are leading a senseless life.” The ghost told him in a friendly sincere voice. “You work and read, work and read. There is more to life than this. As in the book you have just finished reading, 9

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