depending upon this meeting. If we were to be rid of these spirits this could be the way. I walked through the churchyard, with its haphazard arrangement of graves, the umbrella I held faring badly against the heavy rain which, for the time of year, was quite unexpected.
I
had an appointment with the Vicar of the local church in West Ham Lane. It is a Norman church from the 12th
century and was built out of large white stones, with Turrets and tunnels
underneath it that disappear in all directions and come out in various old
buildings or open spaces in the borough.
One of the tunnels ran to a Convent only two streets from where I
lived. I had decided that this was the
vicar I needed after attending one of his services after the schools choir had
sung at the harvest festival celebrations the week before.
He
was an old grey bushy bearded Vicar whose black suit was covered in dandruff, a
real fire and brimstone speaker who I thought would be more than a match for
whatever was in the school. He had put
the fear of God into most of the childrens choir AND the music teacher and I
wondered if there were a few more undead kids back in the Old School his magic
would work on.
“This church has been listed since 1181 and
the clock in the tower was made in 1857 to Lord Grimthorpe's design. Did you know it is the prototype of Big
Ben.” The Vicar told me as I sat down in the office of West Ham Church. “The headmistress of the school said you
wanted to tell me about something I may be able to help you with. What can I do for you?
“It’s
a beautiful church, Vicar”, I said, as a very sprightly older women came in
pushing a trolley with tea and muffins,“and I would love to know more but my
reason for meeting with you is very important and, to be honest, a little
strange.”
“Mrs
Goodwin (name changed) gave me a few details, things that have happened there
over the past few years and I have to admit I am a lover of all things weird
and wonderful. I find it fascinating, I do, I do. Ghosties and goulies
and…well, you know the rest.”
“Things
that make you scream in the daylight?” I suggested, “I may need to bring you up
to speed.” And reality, I thought.
I
went on to tell him that the school was haunted and we needed a blessing of
some sort. He’s expression was blank
throughout. He didn’t appear to be
averse to getting involved or even doing an Exorcism either, though the actual
term ‘Exorcism’ was never mentioned.
“What
have you seen? You….what have YOU seen?”
he asked me.
I
told him about my ghost experiences and then Johns paranormal experiences and
the fact that the teaching staff were also aware and had seen things and had
reports of activity. As I went on and detailed everything that had happened including
the workmens experiences, I could see him becoming more and more uncomfortable.
His muffins had become cold.
He
raised his hand.
“I
think it best if I make arrangements to visit the School when the children have
gone.” He said suddenly to my amazement.
“OK that would be great.” I replied, not
knowing if it would be.
“I
may bring a friend with me; Gerald, he works in the church, very keen
photographer. Who knows, he might catch
something?”
“I
hope you understand the seriousness of this Vicar? It’s not a Jolly Boys Outing!”
“Oh
I assure you I do.” He said, raising his hands.
You are experiencing things in the school and you want me to verify it.”
What
the….?
“NO!
As I said we, the collective we, the teaching staff and the caretaking staff,
the workmen, the delivery men, the cleaners, some of the kids…..WE are
experiencing ‘things’ and we want it got rid of. That’s where you come in!”
“Me?”
“Specifically,
the church. The school is haunted, I have seen and heard something paranormal.”
Oh,
erm, I see….well. shall we say January 2nd?”
“January
2nd?” I repeated, saying it, for some reason. “what about January 2nd?”
“I
think the sooner the better, but its Christmas.” He replied. “I can come then,
have a look and see what needs to be done.”
I
nodded. I put the date in my Filofax. Ever
the Yuppy.
“The
teaching staff will be there but the kids won’t be. There’s a few more days before St Trinians
comes crashing back.”
“1pm?”
“Whatever
suits you, I said, “It’s the same day or night.”
“Oh,
I see.” He muttered.
I
was a little surprised at how he had taken the news about a haunting in the
school and his urgency in booking the first available time gave me some concern. It was almost as if he hadn’t yet understood
the gravity of the situation.
If
he hadn’t: he soon would.
“You
do understand Vicar, that I believe, well, we
believe that help may be found through the church to rid the property of any
evil spirits in there, it’s not a photo opportunity or a bit of a laugh. We are deadly serious. I can get the Head to call you later and
reiterate our concerns. It won’t be long
before the local paper, The Newham Recorder, get a whiff of something
happening. The last thing you want is to
be seen as someone who thought we were all imagining it.”
“Oh
no, heaven forbid.” He replied, shaking my hand like it was going out of
fashion.
As
I shook hands with the vicar he looked quite startled and I left, making my way
back up Vicarage Lane to the School. The
head was standing in the foyer of the new school when I got there.
“It’s
all arranged,”
“When
is he coming” She asked, looking relieved.
“January
2nd. 1pm. Do you know him
well, you said he’s a friend?”
“Only
met him twice, Governors meetings. Seems like a nice man”
“I
got the impression he is coming in here thinking we are all mad and seeing
things. Didn’t matter what I told him.”
“Oh
dear!”
“Judging
by his demeanour, I think he is on a collision course.”
The
look on the Heads face confirmed she thought the same.
I
heard the phone in our office ring once and then it stopped.
John
poked his head around the door frame.
“Dave,
Peter is on the phone!”
“Let’s
speak later”, the Head said as she walked out the main doors.
“Peter
who?” I asked John, “I don’t know a ‘Peter’.”
I
took the handset from John.
“Hello,
this is Dave.”
A
voice at the other end said,
“Ah, David, I got your letter. This is Peter Underwood.”…..
No comments:
Post a Comment