I had to agree that it didn’t seem such a bad idea to me. Truth is I could do with a bit of advice. Course I could go across the landing now and give them all what for. But dad had never listened to me when he was alive, so it was unlikely he would start listening now he’s dead. Besides, it was hardly as if I could grab him by the scruff of his neck and throw him out now, was it?
“Okay.” I conceded. “But we’ll have none of that excommunicating going on. Just advice, that’s all we want.” I imagine Dai was grinning in the dark by now.
“Don’t be daft, Gwen” he laughed. “You need a priest for that. Just advice. If he’s agreeable I’ll get him around tomorrow night.
With that thought in mind we both tried to get some sleep, though mostly in vain.
***
Dai rang from work the next day to say he would be a little bit late as he was giving his friend a lift to pick up his ghost hunting gear, but wouldn’t be too long. I wondered what gear it was that he needed, for truth. It was beginning to look like my house was beginning to turn into a free for all for every spook in the neighbourhood. As well as the poker party, which showed no signs of coming to an end (mind you, they did have all of eternity, I suppose) the ghost tomatoes were still in the fridge, a ghostly cat kept leaving ghost animals on the back step, a phantom budgie was all over the parlour now, and to cap it all there were random appearances of the little old lady we had both seen the night before all over the house. Just after I had got home from work I had found her in the airing cupboard tutting to herself. It was starting to get right on my nerves, and that’s no lie!
Shortly after Dai bowled up from work, herding a thin haired man of about fourty in to the front room. He was wearing a long brown duffle coat that sported a small badge on the front, and was carrying a small black sports bag. With an increasing feeling of gloom I noticed that the badge on his coat read, “Ghost hunters do it in the dark.”
“This is Vinny” Dai said. “He’s come to have a look at our little problem.” and from behind him Dai winked, looking mightily pleased with himself, I must say.
Vinny looked a little nervous, though I thought that this was probably more down to having contact with real people rather than spooks. Removing his duffle coat he rooted though his black bag and took out a small tape recorder and a few other bits and bobs as well as a small notebook and pen. “Good evening, Mrs Jones” he said in a slightly timid voice. “Just lead me to the manifestation and leave me to it please.”
With a sigh we led him up the stairs and opened the door to the spare room. Several loud voices could be heard disputing something or another to do with the card game as the door swung open. Dai pushed Vinny in to the room and slammed the door shut. All was silent inside but eventually we heard voices began to be raised again.
We sat down on the stairs to wait.
The first hour passed before I got fed up and went and made a cup of tea. A small ghost mouse squeaked from inside the kettle as I opened the lid to fill it up with water. I shooed it and it vanished. After our cup of tea another hour passed and I got fed up and went and watched an episode of East Enders on the telly, leaving Dai on watch. It was about half an hour after I had returned from that that the door suddenly flew open and Vinny emerged from the room grinning like a lunatic. There could be heard the sound of several farewells from inside the room and the door swung shut all on its own. What appeared to be a ghostly parrot suddenly fluttered past swearing at us and vanished through the back wall.
Vinny beamed from ear to ear and began to descend the stairs. Three at a time he took them, and grabbing his bag from the front room made his way to the front door as we descended after him.
“Well now!” he almost shouted, opening the door and stepping on to the path. A small white something moved in the bushes behind him. “I am totally shocked. Amazed, in fact! So far this evening I have recorded” He hesitated for a moment as a small transparent mouse scampered across his feet before disappearing into the hedge, “Yes. Erm, where was I? Oh yes! So far I have recorded four instances of total materialisation, one case of ectoplasm; two prolonged experiences of what are best referred to as advanced other worldly experiences. Most gratifying!” He tapped his notebook before placing in to his black bag which was now slung about his shoulder. “He paused for thought, seeming to be completely astonished at his experiences. It was if all his Christmases had come along at once.
“On the down side” he continued, frowning, “I have also had to endure a conversation of what must have been an hour and a half concerning the best way to grow cucumbers.” He paused to think for a while and he looked a little embarrassed. “I also discovered that I’m not very good at poker.” He frowned once again, and patted his pocket. “Lost ten quid, I did.” With that he went down the path with a cheery goodnight and as he turned in to the street called back, “I’ll be back tomorrow.” and he was gone.
“Don’t you even think of bringing him back tomorrow night” I snarled at Dai and closed the door.
***
That night and the rest of the day it got worse. It seemed as if I could not walk in to any room in the house now without coming across (or walking through - and believe you me, that isn’t pleasant at all) yet another ghost, whether it be human, animal or in some very odd instances vegetables as well. I even threw the eggs away out of the fridge as a precaution. Mind you, three of them seemed to have left of their own accord anyway. I even noticed that the postman seemed to be leaving our mail by the garden gate instead of putting it through the letter box.
I had had enough. Dragging a reluctant Dai upstairs we went to have a word with dad.
“Now dad” I said, “We’ve had enough now. I didn’t mind the fuss before because it was nice to see you.” The four cards players had stopped mid game and were looking at me in surprise. Dad dropped his ghostly cards on to the table, where they lay shimmering in just the kind of way that playing cards don’t. Dai seemed to be hovering by the door just in case. “But all you do is sit there playing cards all day.” Dad looked disappointed at me when I said that, but I had had enough by now. “So I want you to go. There’s spooks and ghosts and what have you all over the house. You’ve opened a doorway dad and I want to close it after you on your way out.”
Dad looked even more disappointed now but then he just sighed and picked up his cards again.
“It’s about the sandwich, isn’t it? He said, and smiled. “Well if it makes you feel any better I’ll have a cheese and pickle. I would imagine the boys here would enjoy one too.” The other three ghosts nodded eagerly and started their game up again.
“Not that we’ll be doing much eating of them” giggled Thomas, and the other three joined in.
Dai heard the snort from me and instinctively backed away a pace or two. “That’s it!” I yelled, and the card game stopped briefly, before one of them (I am not sure which one. The red mist had descended by now) tutted loudly. As loud as I could (and I saw Dai flinch from where he now stood by the door) I roared. As loud as I could. I could take no more. This had to be sorted out here and now.
“MOTHER!” I yelled, as loud as I could. In front of me the card game came to a sudden, blinding stop. There was a sound like the tolling of a bell and a stiff wind shook the curtains in the room. At least dad had the sense to look afraid, and Dai didn’t seem to be having any trouble joining in either.
Slowly, before me, the shape of my mother began to materialise until she stood in front of me, though I must say that she was no more solid looking than dad was. She definitely looked a lot crosser however.
“Howell?” She growled, using dad’s Christian name. “What on Earth do you think you are doing?”
Dad looked just more than a little taken aback.
“Well now, Mother” he started but she was not having any of it.
“Don’t you mother me, you annoying little man. Now get you back to where you should be!” and with a wave of her hand dad - and the card game, suddenly vanished. All at
once the whole house felt, well, more peaceful somehow.
“And just you wait until I get back there” she shouted at nothing at all, but everything at once. “You’ll be for it!” and then she turned and smiled at me. Besides me Dai looked as if he was approaching the beginning of a short but eventful fainting fit.
“Sorry about that darling.” she smiled at me, and reached to stroke my face. Of course, I felt nothing. But I did. I felt all of it.
“You know what he is like. Never known a man get bored so quickly. But don’t worry about him sneaking back. Believe you me; I’m going to keep him more than busy!”
Slowly she began to fade, and as she did so she gave me one last smile.
“Mum? I asked eager to clear something up. “What’s all that about the knitting, then?”
Just before she went she smiled even broader. I recognised the smile from when I was little. That and the tone too.
“Don’t be silly, Gwen darling” she said as she faded to nothing. “Where on Earth do you think clouds come from?” Then she was gone.
Beside me Dai swooned and at last succumbed to the forces of gravity. Luckily the bed caught him.
***
Now all this was a few years back now and since then not a single unusual thing has happened in the house to either of us. Just as well, too! Strange really, but it took us both a bit of time to get back to normal what with all that had gone on and all. Vinny took some convincing not to come back as well, though I put my foot down about that one!
Funny thing is that to this day neither of us can bear to watch a horror film on the telly or anything to do with ghosts or the like. Even on Halloween when the trick or treaters come around we turn all the lights off and hide. Dai was a bit disappointed at first. Used to look forward to his annual presenting of his chocolate covered sprouts to all the kids, he did. Great big kid himself as well though, if you ask me!
One thing both of us have begun to enjoy together though also brings us a bit of a laugh and sometimes we both stand in the garden, wondering. Its clouds, of course.
Aren’t clouds just wonderful?
The cat is back!
The cat is back. I could not believe it but it really is. Instinct, I suppose. Yet I was still surprised. I suppose that it is best to say right here and now before I tell you all about what happened that I could never be described as any kind of animal lover. Some people are, some fawn on their pets, but not me. Do not get me wrong; however, I would most definitely never do any animal any harm. It is just that they are not for me. Dogs? You only have to see one constantly chasing a dropped stick to know that dogs are stupid. Cats? Well. Cats have a certain way of looking at things, don’t they? I just feel that a cat and I would never see eye to eye.
I do not know who it was that said that dogs have masters and cats have staff, but I think they definitely got it spot on. Then there is the hunting. Cats seem to think that it is part of their daily remit to leave various dismembered small animals on your back step. Or worse, if you have a cat flap! I know to them it is pure instinct, and they do it without thinking, really. Nevertheless. No. Cats and I would definitely not get on at all.
To begin my story at the start there is this cat at work. Now, where I work the building is surrounded by fields on three sides, a single small road leading out of the small industrial estate and up to a roundabout that connects with the main road. On two of these three sides there is nothing else beyond them but more fields. Very rural. The third side is where a row of houses back on to the car park, the small gardens of the houses hidden behind a run of a high wooden fence. To the side of the building there is a small bike shelter which is not used much. One bicycle normally. It also doubles up as the smoking shelter and it is where you will find me on my morning and afternoon breaks, as well as some portion of my lunch hour having a cigarette or two.
Basically the building where I work sits in a great big field. On the two sides that are not backed on to by the small row of houses a long hedgerow runs the entire perimeter of our small car park. This is then also bordered by a long run of trees for most of the length of the hedgerow. It really is quite quaint, and I like to stand there having a cigarette and watching the seasons come and go, the sound of the traffic on the main row seeming quite distant. Very peaceful.
I think it is fair to say that it is probably a cat’s idea of heaven. An infinite supply of mice, birds and God knows what else for it to track and hunt down. I even saw a fox there once, though I very much doubt that even the bravest cat would consider tackling that! But there is this cat. This particular cat. Little ginger thing it is. Every single day you see it wandering around the entire length of the hedgerows, on patrol. There does not seem to be a day go by without seeing it go flying past with a bird in its mouth. Or a mouse. I even think it had a weasel once. It always seems to catch something. The funny thing is it always heads back towards its house when it has caught something. Present for the household, probably! Now I know it is nature and that is quite normal. That is what happens. But it does not stop you wanting to stick your size nine boot up its ginger arse. Providing you could catch it of course. Nature is nature, I know, but when it is forced down your throat every single day by this little ginger monstrosity it starts to grate on your nerves quite a bit. I really do not like it at all.
The strangest thing about it (and this is probably the main reason why I just do not like cats) is that it completely ignores your presence, sitting on its haunches waiting for a mouse or whatever to move, or a bird failing to spot it lurking in some of the patches of longer grass and then it is off again, racing past you with its newest catch hanging from its mouth. Five minutes later, said creature presumably dispatched, it is back out on patrol once again. I tried once, purely out of interest to stand in its way. I did not make any threatening gesture or noise and it literally just went around me, seemingly total oblivious to my presence! I may as well have been a bloody tree for all the notice it took of me. After a while this started to annoy me too. So what I started to do when I saw it was sneak up behind it and clap my hands loudly. This of course would startle it and it would run off but only a short distance. Then it would be back again.
It was the middle of summer when I had a bright idea. It had for once been quite warm and I had my bottle of water with me whilst I was outside having my cigarette. It was my morning break so it would have been just before 10 O’clock or something like that. The cat was some way off, prowling about the hedgerow, pausing every now and again to have a good look into the bushes and then moving nearer to where I stood. Despite the fact that I had by now startled it several times it still made no recognition of my presence and continued to amble towards me. When it was about six feet away I uncapped my plastic water bottle and, squeezing the bottle shot a solid stream of water straight in to its face. Blimey! It must have shot about three foot in to the bloody air squealing like a bastard! It shot off across the car park, under one of the cars and made its way rapidly to the back of the houses and then disappeared in to one of the gardens. Which one I could not be exactly sure as there was a thick barrier of bushes that covered the length of the fence. it disappeared in to there.
Well, I stood there roaring! Problem solved! I did not see the cat that lunch time, and it was conspicuous by its absence at my afternoon break. No sign of it the next day. Or the day after that. I began to enjoy my cigarette breaks once more, without having to endure a feline related killing spree every time that I went out there. Great! It was by now Friday and of course the office was closed every weekend. Off I went for my short break content that the hunting season was now well and truly closed.
As it turned out it was quite an eventful weekend, for my partner quietly informed me upon my return that we had mice! Mouse droppings under the dish washer and some scraps we had left on a plate on the work top overnight having suddenly diminished as we slept. Just what we needed! So off I went out again and bought half a dozen mouse traps, used up the last of the cheese and placed
the traps in what I considered to be good mouse catching locations about the kitchen.
I was up early on Saturday morning - very early, in fact. I do not know whether it was I was keen to see if the traps had worked or not but I just could not get to sleep so up I got. When I put on the kitchen light however, I saw two of the mice suddenly scatter and disappear. It is quite unsettling really, seeing something like that so I stood there for a minute or two and then proceeded to check the traps. Nothing. Later on I informed my partner about what had happened - with predictable results, but I assured her that it was just a matter of time and so prepared to return to work on the Monday.
Come Monday it was still sunny and off I went on my morning break to enjoy my cigarette. Guess what? The cat was back! The bloody thing was back! True it would not come anywhere near me now, but what it did instead was disappear inside the hedgerow to go past me, then re-appear once more when it considered itself to be safe. Then the hunt would continue. If it caught anything it did exactly the same thing with its prey in its mouth - in to the hedgerow, and back out again. Bloody thing!
So I devised a plan.
I knew that the cat did not like water - that was quite apparent! At home for the garden I had one of those pressure hoses linked to a big water container to do the watering. I had a great big long fence of hanging baskets so I had bought this as it sat on a small trolley - a bit like a shopping trolley, really. Quite handy. It contained a fair amount of water and did not need to be connected to a tap. I also collected a few other bits together and put them in the boot of the car.
Paul McCartney's Coat Page 16
