The ghost tour

A cosy ghostly short.

Down here is where Wee Margaret fell down the stairs. Smashed her head in, ladies and gentlemen. If you stand here, very quiet like, you might hear her little footsteps creaking, and feel the faintest cold rush of air as she passes. And folk who works here late of a night say you hear her wailing for her mamma. We do midnight tours once a month, if you’re interested. Details on Tripadvisor and all that.

But it’s not just Margaret who lives between these old walls. Take Poor Sorry Phil. Worked as a valet, but he was a thief at heart – couldn’t help himself. The master of the house caught him pilfering his wife’s jewels and sent him packing. Wandered about on the roads he did, until he grew cold and hungry, and knocked on the master’s door. ‘Please sir,’ he called. ‘Forgive my folly and take me back.’ Of course, the door stayed tight shut, on the master’s orders.

Now most men would have tried once, twice maybe, then turned back. But not our Phil. Each night he came a-calling, knocking and pleading for his master’s mercy. Then one night, a bitterly cold night it was, a kindly young housemaid called Betsy decided to take pity and open the door. But there was no man there. For you see, ladies and gentlemen, he’d died in a ditch a week before.

Come along, look lively, lots to see. This here is the drawing room. No deaths in here, I’m afraid! But we do have a friendly little poltergeist. Likes to make those crystal chandeliers shake and knock the portraits sideways. Makes the caretakers most unhappy, I can tell you. And you see this lovely cabinet here? See how shiny it is, almost brand new? That’s cause most times we keeps it covered in a cloth, else he’d draws… well, you coulds call ‘em pictures, but that’s a bit generous. Not the sort of art that should be seen by ladies. But he doesn’t mean no harm. We don’t know much about his history, but if I had to put money on it, I’d say he was Tom, the young master’s son, simply amusing himself.

You might be wondering, how do you know which ghost is which? It depends. Sometimes they tells you. Very insistent they are. Other times they tell you little by little, reveal little parts of their lives – might start moving a favourite toy, for example. And then some, like our friend the poltergeist, don’t seem too sure of themselves. Been dead too long I suppose.

Now, sometimes ladies and gentlemen likes to ask, do I have favourite ghost? A mighty difficult question, that. Do you have a favourite child, says I! On seconds thoughts, don’t answer that… what I will say is they all have their ways, ghosts, their peculiarities. You gets used to ‘em, working in a house like this.

Let me see. Oh yes. I have to say it would be Sukie. Daughter of a rich American family who bought the house in the fifties. Lived here a year then died of pneumonia in a terrible winter, awful sad. But she’s such a happy little thing. Most ghosts like to stay in one spot, but our Sukie travels all over the house. Lively little one she is.

What’s special about Sukie? Not much. She’s not a poltergeist. She doesn’t wail. She won’t poke or prod or make rude noises. But if you’re playing a tune, you’ll feel her. She’ll get right close, listening. In fact… I’ll tell you what. I’ll play a tune now, on this here piano.

Any requests, ladies and gentlemen? How about an old favourite? The Lord’s My Shepherd. One from my Sunday school days. Bear with me, ladies and gentlemen, my fingers ain’t what they were. Sing along, if you like. Come on now, don’t be shy. I know some of you’s almost as old as me, you’ll know it.

Aha! Did you hear it? Stay quiet now, listen careful. Again! That note.

Yes, that’s it, sir. A recorder, like the one my son used to have. Let me play a little more.

Madam? Excuse me? I don’t mean to be rude, but would you mind uncovering your ears? I know she’s not very good, but she’s only six, begging your pardon, and she hasn’t practised long. Just listen.

Ahh wonderful. A round of applause for our little performer, please. There, she likes that! Feel that cool air rushing by just now? That means she’s dancing – a good sign! Ah now, off she goes. She don’t like to linger too long after the show.

And I’m afraid that’s the end of the tour, ladies and gentlemen. I hopes you enjoyed it. It’s a little different to the usual, I’ll grant you. But if you really want to get to know a place, you have to meet the residents, is what I say.

So mind how you go. Spare a thought for those who have departed. And don’t forget to leave five stars on Tripadvisor. The ghosts do very much appreciate it.

Clearly I am in a ghostly frame of mind, for here is my second ghost tale in recent weeks. I deliberately tried to write something shorter here, and in a monologue style that’s quite far out of my comfort zone. Let me know what you think.