Ghosts of Yorkshire

by Karen Perkins

  ‘We have until August to rehearse – that’s two months and, judging by tonight’s performance, we’ll need every day of that.’

  ‘Plus the sets to paint, props to source and costumes to make,’ Ed Thomas said.

  ‘And the sound and lighting programme, and equipment – don’t forget that,’ Alec Greene added.

  Helen held her hands up. ‘Yes, we have a lot to do, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. We’ve been given a grant of £500 to help with expenses so we can buy some props in.’

  ‘What? They said yes? That’s fantastic!’

  Helen grinned. ‘I know. We’ll all pitch in with the sets and costumes. This is our big chance to play to a full house. If it goes well, we may get into Harrogate Theatre for a run too – maybe even York or Leeds.’

  ‘Let’s just focus on Knaresborough first,’ Alec cautioned. ‘Bad luck to count our chickens.’

  ‘True enough, Alec. First things first,’ Helen said. ‘Speaking of the first things, what on earth went wrong tonight?’

  Silence.

  ‘Well?’ Helen prompted. ‘I can’t be the only one who noticed. You know the lines, but it just didn’t flow.’

  Everyone looked at Charlie – who was cast as Thomas Becket – and Paul – cast as Henry II.

  Finally Charlie spoke. ‘It’s difficult to get into the characters. They lived nearly eight hundred and fifty years ago, spoke a variation of French, and not only is there little source material, but what does exist is contradictory. I’m struggling to get a sense of who Becket was as a man as opposed to an archbishop.’

  ‘I second that – there is more information out there about Henry, but it focuses on his temper, dress sense, and marriage. Everything is just . . . one dimensional.’

  ‘And there’s even less known about the knights,’ Ed, cast as Morville, said. ‘They only feature in the history books on the night they assassinated Becket.’

  Helen nodded. ‘I had the same problems when writing the script, but I had hoped the dialogue would be enough to convey their characters.’

  ‘We’re not criticising your writing, Helen,’ Charlie was quick to say. ‘It’s just that the twelfth century was so long ago and life and culture so different, we’re struggling to get a handle on it.’ He looked around the table for support, aware he’d inadvertently spoken for everyone.

  ‘I’m finding the same,’ Paul said. ‘Royalty then was different to royalty now.’

  ‘Well at least that’s an easy one,’ Helen said. ‘Henry II was your quintessential dictator and warlord. Think Mugabe, al-Assad, Gaddafi, Hitler, Stalin et cetera.’

  ‘But that’s a simplification,’ Paul persisted. ‘Yes he was a dictator, but he didn’t have total control of power over his subjects – he shared it with the Church and was second to God and, by association, the Pope. There is no situation or role today that compares.’

  Helen nodded and finished her gin. Mike got up, took a couple of notes from the pile they had pooled together in the centre of the table and went to the bar to get the next round in.

  ‘I have an idea,’ Helen said. ‘Sarah, are you free tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. Why?’

  ‘Meet me at nine, we have some shopping to do before tomorrow’s rehearsal.’

  ‘What for?’ Dan asked.

  ‘You’ll see.’

  Chapter 5

  ‘So what’s this mysterious shopping trip about?’ Sarah asked as Helen approached.

  ‘Ah, wait and see,’ Helen said, looping her arm through her friend’s and leading her through the market square. ‘To be honest I’m not sure if it’s genius or madness but we’re about to find out.’

  ‘Now you really have me intrigued,’ said Sarah with a nervous laugh. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘Well, you know the new shop that’s opened up on Kirkgate?’

  ‘Which one? Oh, you don’t mean the witchy one, what’s it called, Spellbound?’

  Helen laughed. ‘Oh yes. Desperate times and all that.’

  ‘Not that desperate, surely?’

  ‘Did you not see them last night? They were so wooden they may well have been planted in Knaresborough Forest. We need to do something drastic to loosen them up and help them embrace Becket and Henry.’

  ‘But spells, seriously?’

  ‘No, not spells,’ Helen said. ‘We’re here, come on.’

  The smell hit them first, a mix of herbs and incense, and both women relaxed. A large display of crystals adorned the table in the middle of the shop which drew them closer, both of them compelled to touch the beautiful diodes, points and tumble stones.

  They wandered around the rest of the filled interior; books, tarot cards, bags of herbs with appropriate spells, wands, dreamcatchers, all inspiration to their imaginations.

  ‘Okay, I give up,’ Sarah said, hands full of crystals, angel cards and incense that she felt she just had to have. ‘What are we here for?’

  Helen said nothing, but pointed up to the objects displayed on top of the bookcases.

  ‘No, oh no, Helen, you can’t be serious.’

  ‘I’m very serious,’ Helen said. ‘No one is connecting with their characters, we’ve tried the conventional exercises – picturisation, sense memory, circle of concentration – but nothing is working. We have eight weeks to put on a play to wow feva, Knaresborough, and every visitor who pays good money to see us. How better than to ask the men themselves?’

  ‘But a spirit board? They scare me, Helen.’

  ‘We’ll be fine as long as we’re careful and responsible.’

  ‘Good morning, ladies, I’m Donna.’ A petite blonde woman dressed in purple, and with a genuine smile on her face approached them. ‘I couldn’t help but overhear, and you’re right to be wary of the Ouija. The boards need to be used properly and with care, but if they are, they can be a powerful tool.’

  ‘But isn’t it like opening the doors to your home and inviting any passing stranger inside? Dead strangers I mean,’ Sarah said.

  ‘It is if you don’t take precautions, but I don’t let anybody buy one of these from me without full instructions to ensure that does not happen.’

  ‘Which is the best one?’ Helen said, studying the half dozen designs, all featuring the letters of the alphabet, digits 0 to 9, yes, no and – very prominently – the word goodbye.

  ‘Whichever you feel drawn towards,’ Donna said.

  ‘That one,’ Helen said, pointing at one with the Spellbound branding. ‘I want yours.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Donna pulled a footstool out from behind the counter and plucked a board and planchette from the shelf. She went back behind the counter and rummaged through some paperwork to find a three-page sheaf of A4. ‘Please read this carefully before you use it.’ She put the paper, board and planchette into a black paper bag. ‘It tells you everything you need to know to make sure you use the board safely.’

  ‘That’s a lot of advice,’ Sarah said, still nervous.

  ‘Not really, it basically says the same three things in a number of different ways. Be positive, protect yourselves, and close the board at the end of your séance.’

  ‘Close the board?’ Helen asked.

  ‘Yes. Say goodbye. Make it clear that the session has ended and the spirit is no longer welcome.’

  Helen nodded but said nothing.

  ‘That’s £30 please.’

  Helen handed over her credit card, then Sarah emptied her hands of her own prospective purchases and paid for them.

  ‘Are you sure this is a good idea, Helen?’ Sarah asked as they walked to the High Street and the Castle Theatre.

  ‘Nothing else has worked,’ Helen said. ‘It’s different, we can have fun with it, and hopefully it can connect the cast with their characters.’

  ‘By bringing forth their spirits?’ Sarah asked.

  Helen laughed. ‘You don’t believe that crap do you? There’s no way Thomas Becket, Henry II and those knights will visit us. I just want the guys to open
their minds and embrace their characters. It’s all psychological. If they believe their spirits are with them, they’ll become them – I just need them to break through whatever is blocking them at the moment. We don’t have long and they need to be perfect or the Castle Players may as well disband. I’ll do everything I can to make sure we pull this off.’

  Chapter 6

  ‘Henry has decided on Becket for Archbishop of Canterbury,’ Helen said, her voice projecting throughout the empty theatre.

  Paul and Charlie stood on stage, scripts in hand. ‘So are they still friendly at this point?’

  ‘At the beginning, yes, but Becket doesn’t want the archbishopric – he realises that it will cause problems and it will be impossible to marry his loyalty to Henry with duty and service to the Church.’

  ‘But if they’re such good friends, why doesn’t Henry listen to Becket?’ Paul asked.

  ‘Henry is a twelfth-century king – he listens to no man but himself,’ Helen said. ‘Basically, he’s a dictator who believes he has a divine right to rule and is always right.’

  ‘So, a typical man then,’ Sarah said with a laugh, but accepted with good grace the playful thump on the arm from her husband, Dan.

  ‘As I was saying,’ Helen’s voice projected once more, bringing the Castle Players to order. ‘Henry makes Becket archbishop, despite him not being ordained as a priest. Becket has no choice but to make the best of it, and chooses his role as the Church’s highest representative in England over friendship and Chancellor to King Henry II. He resigned as Chancellor . . .’

  ‘But is this important?’ Charlie asked. ‘What does it have to do with his murder? I thought that’s what the play’s about.’

  Helen sighed. ‘It is, but it’s also about the motivation and why a man who had been such a good and trusted friend of Henry’s ended up assassinated in his name. This is where it starts. Making him archbishop was Henry’s first mistake as far as Thomas Becket was concerned.’

  ‘Oh,’ Charlie said, nodding. ‘I see.’

  ‘From the top,’ Helen said.

  HENRY II (PAUL FULLER)

  Thomas, ’tis my will and pleasure that thee succeed Theobald in the archbishopric of Canterbury.

  THOMAS BECKET (CHARLIE THOROGOOD)

  ’Tis an honour too great, Sire. Why, look at me (indicates fine clothing). I am hardly a man suited to the purity, poverty and abstinence of this holy office.

  ‘Okay, stop there,’ Helen said. ‘Paul, Charlie, this is a monumental request, you sound as if Henry is asking directions to Canterbury not appointing a new archbishop. Give me more – emotion, import, passion. Try again.’

  HENRY II (PAUL FULLER)

  No better man can I depend upon to act as mediator ‘twixt King and Church. Together we shall bring England to glory.

  THOMAS BECKET (CHARLIE THOROGOOD)

  Sire, I would not gainsay thee, but consider it further, please. I would not the Church came betwixt us.

  ‘Enough,’ Helen shouted. ‘Paul, Charlie, I’m still seeing and hearing you up there – I need to see Henry and Becket.’

  ‘Well you’re not going to see them two, are you? Not when we’re dressed in jeans. It’s not exactly medieval costume.’

  ‘Costumes aside, you sound like Paul and Charlie, not Henry and Becket. We don’t have long to get this right, and it could be our big chance.’

  ‘Well, what do you suggest?’ Charlie said, sounding irritated.

  ‘Something a bit different,’ Helen said. ‘For all of us. We need to embrace the twelfth century – the culture, politics and the characters – and we need to do it quickly. Everyone on the stage, please, now. Paul, Charlie, will you bring that table into the centre? And we need chairs too.’

  *

  The octet of Castle Players sat around the circular table, most looking resigned to yet another game to release their inhibitions and take on the mantles of their characters. All but Helen and Sarah – they both seemed nervous, and Dan narrowed his eyes at his wife.

  ‘What the hell is this?’ Charlie exclaimed when Helen produced the black and purple spirit board and placed it in the centre of the table.

  ‘You have got to be joking,’ Dan said.

  Helen looked at each of them in turn. ‘No, I am not joking. We need to do something to channel these characters. We’ve tried most of the usual exercises and nothing’s worked.’

  ‘Well it’s hard to play a man who’s nearly eight hundred and fifty years dead,’ Paul said.

  ‘I agree, so why not ask for help from the men themselves?’ Helen said.

  ‘Assuming I believe in ghosts, which I don’t,’ Charlie said, ‘why would their spirits come and talk to us?’

  ‘As you pointed out yesterday, there are so few surviving accounts of their lives – and all contradictory – why wouldn’t they want the truth of their lives told?’ Helen said.

  ‘I’m not sure about this,’ Mike said. ‘I don’t like messing in things I don’t understand.’

  ‘It’s okay, Mike,’ Sarah said. ‘The woman in the shop gave us loads of advice about how to use it properly and be safe.’

  ‘Us?’ Dan said. ‘So this is what your secret shopping trip was about?’

  ‘Helen asked me not to say anything,’ Sarah said, refusing to look at him, ‘not until she brought it up.’

  ‘Since when do you put your friends before your husband?’ Dan said, colour rising in his face.

  ‘When that friend is her and her husband’s director,’ Mike said, staring at Dan.

  ‘It’s my fault, Dan,’ Helen said. ‘If you’re angry at anybody, be angry at me, I’m the one who put Sarah in a difficult position.’

  Dan looked at her, opened his mouth, then shut it again. He played Reginald FitzUrse and was still hopeful of a promotion to Henry II or Becket should Paul or Charlie prove unequal to their roles. He did not want to antagonise the script writer and director; he would continue the discussion with Sarah, later, in the privacy of their home.

  Chapter 7

  ‘Are we seriously going to do this?’ Paul asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Helen said, ‘and please try to be positive, or at least have an open mind.’

  ‘Come on, Paul,’ Sarah said. ‘It might be fun and help us connect with the guys we’re playing.’

  ‘But we just— It’s not something to be messed with,’ Mike said.

  ‘Have you used it before?’ Sarah asked.

  Mike hesitated.

  ‘You have, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘At a party, years ago, these girls made one out of paper.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Not a lot really, the glass they used instead of that thing,’ he pointed at the triangular planchette, ‘flew across the room and smashed.’

  ‘Then what happened?’ Helen asked.

  ‘Nothing, we were all freaked out, so we burned it.’

  ‘Somebody just flicked the glass,’ Dan said with a smirk, ‘to freak you all out.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Mike shrugged. ‘But I don’t see how.’

  ‘You said it was at a party,’ Sarah said. ‘Were you all pissed?’

  Mike grinned. ‘Well . . .’

  ‘There you are then,’ Helen said. ‘Stop worrying. I know what I’m doing. Are we all ready?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Mike said. ‘But we stop if things get too weird, okay?’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Helen said. ‘What about the rest of you?’

  The others shrugged or nodded with varying degrees of assuredness, which Helen took as assent. She placed her fingers on the planchette.

  ‘Paul and Charlie, you have the two main roles, I’d like you to touch the planchette as well, then everyone else put your hands on top.’ Helen said and waited until they’d complied.

  ‘Okay, I’m going to protect us first – we don’t want anything flung against walls,’ she said with a smile at Mike. ‘I call on our angel guardians and spirit guides to protect us here tonight.’
/>   ‘Are you serious?’ Dan asked, pulling his hand away.

  ‘Yes, I am. Please, Dan, stay positive.’

  ‘But angels and spirit guides?’

  ‘Would you rather I called on the devil?’

  ‘No, of course not!’

  ‘Then let me carry on.’

  ‘I’d rather we at least put the intention out there for angels, Dan,’ Sarah said.

  Her husband stared at her, then returned his hand to the tower of fingers on the planchette.

  ‘Thank you, Dan,’ Helen said. ‘I call on our angel guardians and spirit guides to be with us tonight as we try to contact Henry II, Thomas Becket, and Sirs Morville, FitzUrse, Tracy and Brett. We ask that you surround us in a protective white light and facilitate contact with the spirits we are asking to communicate with.’ She bowed her head and fell silent.

  ‘Did they answer you?’ Dan said. Helen ignored him.

  ‘Henry Plantagenet, Thomas Becket, Hugh de Morville, Reginald FitzUrse, William de Tracy, Richard le Brett, I humbly beg you to join us this evening, your presence is welcome and we would be honoured if you felt able to help us tell your story.’

  ‘Overdoing it a bit, isn’t she?’ Dan whispered to Sarah.

  ‘Shush. She’s speaking to medieval nobles, including a king. They would expect nothing less,’ Sarah hissed back. Dan shrugged.

  ‘Henry Plantagenet, Thomas Becket, Sir Hugh, Sir Reginald, Sir William, Sir Richard, will you speak to us? You are most welcome here.’

  Everybody stared at the planchette. It didn’t move.

  ‘Now what, oh high priestess?’ Dan said.

  Helen glared at him.

  ‘Maybe we’re asking for too much at once,’ Sarah said.

  ‘That sounds plausible,’ Paul said. ‘Why not focus on Henry and Becket first?’

  Helen nodded. ‘Good idea. Okay, just Paul, Charlie and myself touch the planchette.’

  ‘Why you, Helen?’

  ‘I’m acting as medium, Dan. The notes from the lady in the shop said one person should be in control of the board.’