Friday, 31 October 2014

Old Oak Manor - A Halloween Tale

Two backpacks sat upright against the wall next to the front door.
Bursting at the seams, these bulging bags contained everything that anyone could ever want; a self-contained survival pack for the evening ahead. And of course, Teddy poking his head from underneath the top flap!

Two days earlier, Reece and Alex regretted the conversation they were having with Amber and Lauren across the dinner table. Old Oak Manor, behind the school was reportedly haunted, but the two boys scoffed at the idea of such tales.

‘Don’t be silly!’ laughed Alex, ‘Haunted House! This isn’t Disneyland!’

‘I’m telling you it is!’ retorted Lauren, ‘My Uncle was working for the last family to live there, and he heard and saw something unexplained’.

And the conversation (well, we can call it an argument now!) continued. By the end of lunch, the wager had been set. Alex and Reece were to camp out in the Manor house overnight ‘just to prove there are no such things as Ghosts’. And they were due to do this on Halloween; being boys trying to impress girls, they had unwittingly forgotten the time of year

‘Go and do it this weekend then.’ teased Amber.
‘Easy! ‘shouted Reece and Alex, ‘but then you both must go and get a milkshake with us as a reward afterwards.’

The wager set, it was soon common knowledge around the school; the brave boys were going to prove there were no such things as ghosts on the most bewitching night of the year, and they were going to get their girls as their reward. Simples!

Amber and Lauren were to sort out access to the Manor; Lauren’s Uncle still had the keys to the dark and deserted Manor house. The owners were long gone, no one came to replace Lord Guthrie after he died; he had no heir to the Manor, and it had fallen into an overgrown state.

As Halloween approached, the boys made sure they had everything to keep them going through the night. Dark blue sleeping bags to keep them warm were the most important features of their equipment; along with their Cree head torches and plenty of spare batteries.
‘Don’t forget the food!’ Alex had whatsapp’d Reece as they were discussing the requirements to help them through the night. Hungry stomachs would make strange sounds, and would be impossible to tell apart from any supernatural sounds that may be secreted from the surrounding walls. There were enough snacks to feed an entire Form group divided between the two intrepid adventurers. The final, and most important part of the equipment that was to be transported to the Manor was the rechargeable battery pack that would ensure that their iPhones never ran out of power.
‘If we want to keep going through the night, we need our phones charged. How else are we going to update Twitter and Facebook?’ spoke Alex, confidently. He knew that this would show the interested audience of Haverbridge once and for all who were the bravest of the brave (and also for them to claim and brag about their reward!).

The door creaked open as the two boys picked up their belongings, slung them over their shoulders and started to make the slow meander up to the Manor house.
The cool autumn evening was drawing in quickly; the pumpkin coloured sky above the hills was aglow with the Sun setting above the clouds, and had just enough light to announce their arrival at Old Oak Manor.

Alex knocked the door. There was no reply, and as he went to push the door open, it slowly shrank away from him with a creak. He looked at Reece, and both of them blamed it on the Autumnal breeze that was blowing about the hills.

The hallway to the house was immaculate. The wall was lined with the portraits of the previous Lords of the Manor which were lit up as each boy turned their head towards them. The Cree lights were a saviour as they allowed the boys to keep their hands free for the iPhones.
‘Just got 2 Manor house. All gd’ tweeted Reece.

The boys explored the house and decided to set up camp in the master bedroom of the house, which had a spectacular view over the Haverbridge and its’ surround villages nearby. Breath-taking was not the word. It was also the room that provided the most natural light, and was the furthest away from the entrance – if they were going to do this, they were going to do this in style.
They noted how complete the house was still – it had been 6 months since the last person resided here, but all of the furniture and belongings remained in place.
‘We might as well go for the comfiest room’ the boys agreed.

The luxurious Queen size bed was to play home to the boys operations. They both lay on the bed and discussed the plans for the next few hours.
They were going to stay in the house until 8am when the sun was due to rise, tweeting and uploading pictures throughout the night – being tech savvy was going to uphold their status as the Heroes of Haverbridge.

Unbeknown to the brave boys, Amber and Lauren were planning their own twist. They were not going to be going on a date with the boys; they simply weren’t good enough for the girls, who had their own ambitions of who to spend time over a milkshake with.
Their plan was simple enough – they were going to be outside of the house with the Halloween sound effects CD that they had spotted in Poundland. They were going to show how childish Alex and Reece were.

The boys were talking about what they would make the girls buy them when they arose triumphant from the house; milkshake, McDonalds and Cinema were the common ideas, along with hand holding and a smooch at the end of the night. Alex and Reece were determined to succeed as they had long held a torch for Amber and Lauren, becoming friends who were boys, but never flipping the words around (yet!)
The sounds of creaking filled the room. The boys looked at one another, but dismissed it as the front door creaking again.
The next sound they heard was the rattling of the windows in their frames. This time the looks on the boys faces changed from smiles to confusion; they knew they were the only people in the house, but why were there so many different noises filling the atmosphere?

The evening turned into night, and the booming chime of the Grandfather clock in the hallway filled the house at Midnight. It made the boys jump, but they remembered seeing the Antique next to the stairs before they made their final ascent.
Out of the corner of their eyes, they saw the bedroom door start to open. The boys clutched at each other as they watched a dark figure in a black suit enter the room. The glow from the spectre lit up the whole room, and as the figure made a grab towards the boys, they jumped up and dashed for the door, slamming it shut and made for the exit as quickly as their legs would carry them. They didn’t even notice Amber and Lauren laughing hard at them as the sprinted into the distance towards their homes. The Poundland CD had worked – it had spooked the boys and they wouldn’t be going for Milkshake with them.
Undeterred, the girls entered the house themselves; there was good food that the boys had left and they weren’t going to let it go to waste.
Amber crept up the stairs with Lauren following behind her. The darkness was scary, but they used the lights from their mobile phones to lead the way. They had seen the boys in the master bedroom and made their way towards the room to gain the goodies.
Amber and Lauren laughed as they munched on Oreos and Jammie Dodgers whilst looking out towards the village.
A glowing hand took on of the biscuits and lit up the room. Lauren and Amber turned to each and screamed as they vacated the house.

‘That was a hoot and a half!’ shouted Mr Hunter, covered head to foot in a black suit covered in luminescent paint. Mr Trungit opened the wardrobe door with a creak and high-fived Mr Hunter. Both men looked pleased with their nights work.
Pupils never learn to keep their business to themselves, and when the story of Alex and Reece reached the staff room of Haverbridge Academy, this was one opportunity that was not to be missed. They became the Heroes of Haverbridge Academy Staff Room, with the tale passed down to all new Year 7 pupils each September. Pupils shivered as they stared and the looming shadowy outline of the Manor house behind it’s shelter of foliage, listening to the wind blow through the leafy branches like the whistling of the groundskeeper.





Wednesday, 3 July 2013

A Time To Remember


As I lay under the crisp covers of the duvet, I could make out the light that sliced its’ way through the small gap that parted the curtains. Even though my eyes were closed, the colour that entered my eyes was enough to awaken my senses.

Memories of yesterday came flooding into my head; the walk in the park, playing football with the boys, sneaking off to meet Dan at the Odeon, and sitting hand in hand on the back row. I never did find out what the film was about, but my time had been well spent and I was beaming when we had to say our goodbyes.

The smell of sea air came into my thoughts, and I was instantly whisked away to the small caravan that had been my home for 7 days earlier in the small sandy coves of Cornwall. How I longed for those days again, and yet how far away they were from my grasp.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. Where had that spider who was trailing its’ way across my room disappeared to? Well, they do say that you eat so many spiders in your sleep in your lifetime, and had my mouth claimed another of the victims that I was destined to gorge upon during my time of rest? I certainly hope not! Then I tried to clear my head of all the negative thoughts; tried to think of the past few weeks, and the happiness that they had bought me. No worries, no stress and no responsibilities. My parents had stopped nagging me to do jobs and had left me alone to enjoy my life as I felt.

But it was impossible, the dark clouds now replaced the rainbow of light that emanated through the slit in the curtains. The woe claimed my free mind, and I was suddenly brought back to reality. Yes I had enjoyed the good life, and I treasured every moment of that, but the summer holidays were over, and it was time to go back to school. First day of term syndrome is what I call it. Catching up with everyone on the first day, sharing stories of what had filled each other’s lives, trying to outdo each other, until the ridiculous could not hide amongst the truth any longer. I hated first day back with a passion, and so did my friends. The thought of losing freedom was enough to negate the joyous emotions of what was the Summer Holidays.

Even worse for me was that my first class back was 9CG; the tutor group from hell!


Maybe just one more ‘snooze’, for old times sake!

Sunday, 8 July 2012

Contact


Contact - Chapter One


Sitting tentatively on the edge of the seat, the woman peered out of the half pulled down window. She could smell the remnants of the coal fire that powered the train through thick, white plumes of steam, but observed that the platform was empty. Surely someone should be awaiting the arrival; be it for the return of a passenger, or even a special delivery. But no, everything was deathly quiet on the dull grey platform.

After sitting for a moment, the woman was disrupted from her thoughts by a gruff old station guard.

“Time to get off, madam!” he shouted through the small window. Startled, the woman started to gather her belongings and moved towards the door, which the guard had opened for her, showing the manners with which she had been brought up with.

Stepping down from the carriage, she put her bags down and pondered; what was she going to do now? Surely she was expected, and surely someone should be there to meet her. She gazed over at the smart wooden bench, half expecting to see a smiling, welcoming face greeting her warmly; the same face that she remembered so fondly in years gone by, as they baked together, read books together and enjoyed being in each other’s company. It was this point that reality began to fade into view; what if the worst had happened, and the only way that she would see the comforting face again would be to close her eyes. No-one had been in contact for a long time, and this brought back to mind the purpose of the journey.

It was twenty years ago that she had last been on the platform, alongside many others, each undertaking the same journey as one other, but each with different final destinations. She had desperately wanted to stay with her family, but it was impossible. The war effort had made this impossible and the ever growing threat had made each and every families decision easy; the young ones must go; be sent away from the squeals and flames of war and out to the fresh air and countryside of the United Kingdom and continue peacefully into adulthood, blissfully unaware of the atrocities that they were to leave behind them in the industrial heartland of the country.

Spending the last 20 years apart had made the woman’s heartache to return to her home; to see her family once again. Right at this moment, she had no idea whether anyone remained to see how she had grown up, losing contact, no replies from letters contributing to a growing concern, and deep felt worry that she just had to find out where her future lies, be it in the Welsh countryside, or back amongst the hard working people of the rest of the industrial world; the salt of the earth workforce who work every day to put food on the table, and to buy the odd pint down the pub on the corner of the street. A simple, yet pleasurable life, and something that she remembered so strongly, wondering where her father disappeared to so soon after tea, and always reappearing happy, often with a huge fish supper on a Friday which she always waited up for, along with her two sisters, having pretended to be asleep. It was so big that everyone was fed plentifully and no-one went without.

With purpose, the woman picked up her luggage and strode towards the exit of the station. She had to move, and taking a piece of paper from her pocket, she was able to visualise the street on which the house was set on.  It was 2pm, and the streets were quiet. The children were in school, and the men were at work.  She could hear women chattering to each other, talking about the latest washing detergent and how clean it made their clothes, to what the woman at number 12 was doing with the window cleaner; everyone knew each other’s business, it was impossible to keep secrets from the streets.  At last she reached the top of Guest Street. It was just as remembered, the back to back houses, front doors that opened onto the pavements. She walked slowly down the street, turning her head and taking everything in, remembering, reminiscing, reminding...

As she approached the bottom of the street her pace slowed down. With a perplexed look on her face, she turned her head left and right. This was different to what she had left. There was now a huge pile of rubble where houses had once stood; this is not what she had expected. There had been a large factory at the end of the road, employing most of the neighbourhood and most of the men in Guest Street. She stared at what remained of the factory’ a couple of broken bits of wall, sticking out of the ground and twisted pieces of metal from the machinery and fittings that had once graced the large structure.But what took her breath away was the house that she had grown up in was no more; as if it had been erased from reality. Her face dropped as reality came ever closer.

Friday, 30 March 2012

Sinful Secret

I didn't mean to do it. I am not sure why I did, thinking about it now. Perhaps it was for pure self gratification. Perhaps it was the opportunity that lured me to sin. I feel guilty; blood on my hands, pulse racing like a hundred metre runner. I don't know how I am going to explain my behaviour. It felt so good to take advantage. Maybe once more. I don't think it will be noticed. Guilty until proven, that's what they say. I can always explain later or even after I return home. I must close the biscuit tin lid now.

A Four Lettered Word

Sitting at the computer, Lucy found herself staring at 5 letters; X, J, V, Z and Y. Letting out a sigh, Lucy clicked the button on her monitor and gazed into the reflection of herself in the dark shadow. This was the third loss in a week for her. The letters never came out right for Lucy, and another negative was marked against her Scrabulous score.
It was 4 weeks since Lucy had found Facebook. The twins had just started school, and she had found the new void left in her life difficult to fill. ‘You should get on that Facebook!’ Felicity had shrieked at her over a glass of Chardonnay, ‘I’ve made so many new friends, all from my own chair! It’s like going out, but without the leering men and the snide women’


I’ll try that!’ Lucy had replied, ‘It can’t hurt! I’m sure that Andrew has used that before’ Andrew was Lucy’s husband. At 39, he was 4 years older than her, and was the manager of a local Steel merchant. ‘I’m just relaxing, love! Winding down!’ he would pipe out from the soft leather chair that adjoined the steely computer desk. Lucy would come over to give her loving husband a steaming hot cup of tea to complete the relaxation process, and Andrew would continue to gaze at the screen, the words glowing on his face, his stare fixed on the lines that made no sense to Lucy. Andrew barely muttered ‘Thanks’, but Lucy didn’t mind. She knew that Andrew worked hard in the day, and that at the weekend he would spend time with the twins in the park, taking them to play on the swings, the slides, and everything that the boys could get their hands on! ‘Go and treat yourself!’ Andrew would say, ‘I’ll look after the kids, I’ve missed them all week! You deserve some “Lucy” time!’


Lucy didn’t go out much. She had some friends, but most of them seemed to always have ‘prior engagements’. Felicity was one such friend. Since her husband, John, had decided to work abroad, Felicity had decided that the strain on their relationship was too much, and wished him well in the future. She was ALWAYS dating. ‘He’s too tall, he was too loud, he was perfect, but WAY too young for me!’ Felicity would go on to joke with Lucy. This was a rare time that they had chance to catch up face to face; their ‘chat’ was usually conducted on the phone, or by text messages. It was extremely convenient. Felicity had made so many new friends on Facebook, and rekindled old school friendships at the same time. The school reunion party she organised was a blast! It was nice to see all those people who had made her teenage years exciting; old flames and girly pals included. Andrew hadn’t been keen on seeing some of Lucy’s old acquaintances, but he grudgingly went along to support his wife:


Andrew’s time at the same school hadn’t been that great. He had been a loner, and whilst being a prefect at school, Lucy and her friends had caused him grief during their first year there. Lucy had recognised him some years later in the local pub, but he was different; the life and soul of the party. Lucy felt obliged to talk to him, to apologise for the torment all those years ago, and the relationship flourished from there. Within 3 years, they had settled down.


Andrew’s job afforded them to be able to set up home in an old farm house in the nearby countryside. This cut Lucy off from some of her friends, but she was close enough to be able to meet people in town. When the kids came along, Lucy was cut off more, but this didn’t bother her as they kept her busy, and she enjoyed being a mum.

It had been 5 weeks since the beginning of the school term, and after Felicity had suggested Facebook, Lucy had become more and more engrossed with the social networking the site offered. She had even managed to track down some of her favourite celebrities. The feeling of power that this gave her spurred her on to do more; but it was the games that she preferred. Scrabulous was ideal for her to pass the day. She enjoyed the challenge that this gave her, and more and more she found that the day was too short, filled with taking the kids to and from school, inter-twined with the games. It was a Friday morning, and Lucy had just come back from the school run. She went into the study, and turned the monitor on. To her surprise, the computer was already logged on. ‘I must have left this on, I’m glad that Andrew didn’t find out!’ Lucy thought, as this was often the source of tension between the two, with Andrew being committed to saving the Earth’s resources (and also his money!)


Lucy struggled to find the Scrabulous application. ‘I’m sure it was here’ she puzzled, ‘maybe its just teething problems’. Lucy installed it and was soon playing her favourite past-time. In the bottom right hand corner, Lucy noticed there was a green light. She remembered that she could use Facebook to chat. Feeling lonely, she clicked on the chat application, and looked at who was online. There was one name that stuck out from the list – it was Felicity. ‘I haven’t seen Fliss for ages!’ she smiled, and then clicked on her name.

Hi Fliss!!!!’ she typed.

Hi!!!’, came back the reply.

Its been ages!!!!!!!’ Lucy typed

I know!!!’, Felicity replied, ‘I’ve missed you’

I’ve missed you too’ Lucy wrote back, but as she was doing this Felicity continued to type

‘…….shall I meet you in the Park this Sunday? I’ll bring the kids, and you can bring the twins.

Lucy will never…………’


At this point, Lucy felt sick. She was talking to Felicity, so why was she being talked about. She then realised that some of the names on the chat list weren’t familiar to her. Looking at the top of the page, she clicked on ‘Profile’, and within a split second, Lucy was staring at a picture of her husband – she was on Andrew’s profile!!!! He had Felicity as one of his friends, not particularly strange, but the conversation wasn’t what she would have expected. Filled with calm anger, she continued the conversation:

That sounds fine. Lucy loves the time that she has free. I can’t believe its lasted all this time’ ...Lucy typed as Andrew worked.

It’s our 6th month anniversary this weekend’ came back the reply. Lucy was welling up,
feeling tearful yet angry. She clicked off Facebook.

When Andrew arrived home from work, he found a note on the kitchen table:

Gone to my mothers, taken the kids, needed a short break for the weekend. Hope you don’t mind. Lucy xxxx’

Andrew smiled to himself ‘This weekend is going to be easier than I thought!’ He grabbed himself a beer from the fridge and sauntered into the study. He slumped into the brown leather chair, and switched the computer on.


Logging into Facebook, he saw that he had a message in his Inbox. ‘Felicity is sooo exciting’, he thought.

Clicking on to the message, he found it was from Lucy:

Check your Wall’ it said. Simple, yet clear.

Clicking onto the Wall, Andrew noticed that his profile status had changed from ‘Married’ to Single’.


The Wall left a bigger shock: ‘Andrew Hill is the biggest cheat on Facebook, and Felicity Reed is the cheapest tart alive’


Andrew had just become the latest victim of ‘being dumped by Facebook’. Sitting at her mothers, Lucy was content. It had been 3 months since her brave actions had led her out of a strained relationship. She sat with a smile on her face: Lucy had just made her highest score on Scrabulous!


Tuesday, 3 January 2012

Silent Night, Holy Night

The tension grows as the clock counts down. Harry, Tom and Emma are sitting down on the floor, staring at the clock, watching the hands tick down.
There is a feeling in the room, but the three inhabitants cannot quite put their finger on it. They have never quite felt like this before, despite being in this position previously.
Several people enter the room, bringing items in and collecting items to take away.
There is a flurry of activity in this small, but bright room.
The clock ticks down and Harry, Tom and Emma grow more nervous. The last time this had happened, there had been a catastrophic outcome, and none of the three intrepid inhabitants want the same result. It has to be different this time; they had felt failure and now wanted to taste the fruitions of success.
From outside the room, lots of noise starts to emanate; a loud noise that grew and grew, making each of the group come to the realization that their time was about to come. They were about to face their fear, and they were going to face it head on. They all start to get to their feet. Harry, Tom and Emma look at each other, making sure that they are ready to face whatever presents itself to them from beyond the darkness.
Cautiously, Harry, Tom and Emma walk towards the bright light in the distance. Eden Forest Primary Reception Nativity performance take two has just begun.

Saturday, 11 June 2011

A Picturesque Life

It was a quiet morning. Jack had been awoken by the sounds of the starlings rustling in his loft. He knew this was a menace, but he felt strangely comforted by the sounds of the birds scurrying in the space above him.
Outside, the sun stood proudly in the pale blue sky. Not even hugged by a single cloud, the sun blazed in all its glory above the green pastures below.
Jack’s farmhouse was situated amongst the rolling fields of England’s Garden. He had long been proud of being able to live breathing the cleanest of air, away from the hustle and bustle of the Big City.
In the fields surrounding the farmhouse, Lambs bleated, taking their first steps with their brothers and sisters, suckling with their mothers and growing stronger by the second. In the Hen house, Chicks squawk, with the cracking of their egg shell haven as they burst into the world, ready to start their life.
This reassured Jack, although it had been a long time since he had seen any of this, what with the accident taking away his sight. ‘Who needs two eyes?’ thought Jack. ‘It’s only a number’.