A Cockney's Journey

by Eddie Allen

  “Well, there’s a story in the local paper that some kind of devil worshipping is going on there, with some sort of sacrifices,” Tony reckoned raising his eyebrows and smiling. (For the record, Brockley Jack is a graveyard in Nunhead, South London, and was notorious for black-magic worshippers in the late sixties.)

  “Really!” Brian exclaimed. “That’s interesting. I suppose you want to check it out?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Yeah why not, it’ll be a laugh.” chuckled Tony.

  “What do you think, Eddie?” Brian asked me.

  “I’m up for it.” I replied enthusiastically.

  “Ok.” Tony said. “Let’s meet back here in an hour.”

  And so later that evening we all met up at the sand pit. It was a little after 9 p.m., just as it was starting to get dark.

  I was late, and Tony, Brian and little Tommy Young were already waiting for me. I gave them my apologies and muttered something about getting grief about coming back out. What I didn’t tell them was that I had to wash up the dishes and clean my room.

  “So you’re coming along as well, Tom?” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “Should be fun.”

  I looked at him and thought, what the fuck was Tony playing at bringing that plum along, but didn’t say it. “Fine,” I replied.

  “OK, let’s make tracks,” ordered Tony.

  We were following Tony like lost sheep and had been walking for at least 45 minutes. I was wondering how much further there was to go when suddenly Brian pointed out the large iron gates up ahead.

  “There it is, just up there,” he shouted.

  What a sight; dark and gloomy, sending shivers down my spine. The cemetery was surrounded by thick dense woodland with a path running uphill, alongside it. The boundary was a York-stone wall with an iron fence around it.

  “Did the Romans build this place ’cos it looks quite ancient?” I asked. Before Brian could reply, Tommy jumped in.

  “Yeah they did. Don’t you know your history, Eddie?”

  I stood there with this vision of my hands around that plonker’s neck.

  “Obviously not,” I replied. “Anyway lads, how do we get in?”

  “Up the pathway there’s a hole in the fence,” Tony whispered. “All we got to do is give each other a bunk-up onto the wall.”

  “How do you know there’s a hole in the fence?” Tommy asked.

  “I was up here yesterday having a look around.”

  “Did you get inside?” I asked.

  “No, there were too many people about,” Tony said.

  As we slowly walked up the pathway, my mind was suddenly elsewhere…

  Brockley Jack cemetery: the long passage way

  that leads up one side of the cemetery

  ***

  “Did you break your sister’s bike, you little shit?” my father screamed at me.

  “No, I’ve been playing football in the pit all afternoon with my friends.”

  My sister was sitting on the sofa sobbing her eyes out; both my brothers sat there with blank, innocent expressions. Here we go again. Blame me. Apparently one of us had broken the padlock and chain and rode the bike around the estate, buckling the front wheel.

  “It wasn’t us, Dad, honest,” my two brothers pleaded innocently.

  He looked at me with coldness and hatred flickering behind his eyes. He stood up swinging the chain. He smashed the chain over my head, and then grabbed me by the throat.

  “You little bastard,” he shouted. I felt a trickle run down my check and under my chin. He let go his grasp, knowing there were witnesses watching. I slumped to the floor. Quickly jumping up, I ran out of the house. It was only when I was outside that I felt the pain. Funny thing fear, it renders you useless and, of course, I pissed myself again. My father struck so much fear into me that I often wet myself during a beating.

  ***

  I was jerked back to the present with the sound of Tommy moaning and Brian bellowing.

  “Go on, Tony. Pull him up.”

  I looked up to see Tommy dangling, trying to get a foothold on the wall. I ran over and pushed Tommy’s heels up.

  “Put some effort into it,” I said. “For fuck’s sake, Tom.”

  Tony managed to pull him onto the top of the wall and Tommy jumped through the gap in the fence.

  “Arghhh,” Tommy yelled out. “I’ve landed in a load of bloody nettles.”

  “Come on Ed. Let’s have ya.” Tony held out his hand and pulled me up, no probs. Once on the wall I dropped into the cemetery. Brian and Tony followed. All of a sudden we were in total darkness; there were no lights anywhere, not even the street lamps shone past the wall. I had a very uneasy feeling in my gut.

  “Nothing but bloody trees,” whispered Brian.

  “Come on,” Tony gestured, waving his hand. “This way.”

  As we clambered through the thick trees and bushes, an eerie silence fell and I must admit to feeling a bit spooked. We came into a clearing and I realised we were standing amongst hundreds of tombstones. I could just about see a few paces in front of me and the moon was casting an unearthly glow. Suddenly, a shaft of thin light appeared. As I stood staring at its point of origin, it went dark again.

  “Better save the batteries,” Tony said. “Anyone else bring a torch?” he asked.

  “I’ve got a lighter and a packet of fags,” I told him.

  “Shit,” whispered Brian. “I forgot my torch!”

  Tommy stood there motionless without saying a word. We ventured deeper.

  “This place is massive,” Tony whispered.

  “Yeah, you’re not kidding,” I said uneasily.

  “Easy to get lost in here, especially in the dark,” Tony laughed.

  No fear, that bloke, none at all.

  “Fuck me, what’s this?” Brian shrieked. “Someone’s opened up this grave. Look!” I walked over to where Brian was standing and saw that the coffin had been smashed open. The earth was thrown all over the place.

  “Looks like whoever did this was in a big hurry,” I muttered, shocked. Tommy said he felt sick and wanted to go home.

  “Don’t be a tart,” barked Brian. “You’re here now and that’s it, right?”

  “But I want to go home,” he sighed.

  “OK, let him go,” Tony said, “but don’t tell anyone we were in here, otherwise I’ll thump ya”.

  “I’m not going on my own. You coming, Ed?” he pleaded. “It’s too dark to see where I’m going.” He looked completely distraught.

  “No chance,” I replied. “You wanted to come with us and we’re not going yet.” Tommy reluctantly backed down, agreeing to stay.

  “Who do you reckon could have done this to the grave?” Brian asked.

  “Don’t know,” Tony replied nervously. “Could have been grave robbers or some sort of devil worshippers.”

  Tony’s remark didn’t sit too well with me. I wondered what would happen if the people who had done this to the grave were still in the cemetery. What chance did we have of getting away? I mean, we only had a torch and a bloody lighter.

  “I didn’t think they existed,” said Brian.

  “They don’t; only in horror films,” Tom reckoned, trying to convince himself.

  “You should read the papers. They exist all right,” Tony said. “OK, let’s keep going.”

  After a while we came upon a locked iron gate. A large chain and padlock hung around it, fixed to a clasp on the wall. It looked like the entrance went underground.

  “This chain and padlock looks new,” Tony observed.

  “What’s this for, Ed?” asked Tommy.

  “Well, I think this leads to the crypt, where they keep the coffins.”

  “If that’s the case, there must be some sort of church in the grounds somewhere,” Brian suggested.

  “Come on then, let’s investigate. Let’s see if we can find the other end of this tunnel,” Tony said excitedly.

  A
s we searched the cemetery, we completely lost track of the time…

  Entrance in the middle of the cemetery, which leads to the underground

  tunnel and straight to the vault and crypt below the chapel

  of rest, where the coffins are stored

  Hundreds of tombstones damaged by vandals,

  grave robbers and Mother Nature

  “What’s that noise?” Tommy yelled as a loud sound rang out through the still night.

  “It’s a bloody church bell, it’s midnight!” Tony screeched.

  We stood there is total silence for what seemed like an eternity. Midnight. God, I’m in trouble again. I’ll have to climb in the bathroom window to get in the house. It’s a good job I left the clasp undone. He will never know, as his shift doesn’t end until 7 a.m. and by then I’ll be tucked up in bed. Or so I thought.

  ***

  I remembered the last time I did that; I went to a party at Billy Middleton’s house at the top of Denman Road. His parents were in Spain on holiday. What a night that was. That’s when I first met Anne. Gorgeous she was, I mean, top draw. However, I didn’t know my old man would come home from his shift at 1 a.m. instead of 7 a.m. Apparently he felt unwell. He caught me climbing through the window in the early hours of the morning. He really laid into me that night, hitting me like I was a punch bag. He threw me all around the bathroom. He punched me in the nose so hard my nose exploded everywhere. Then the nutter grabbed me from behind, pushing my arms up my back, dragging me over the bath. He then started ducking me under the half-filled bath, trying to drown me. I was screaming; swallowing bath water as I went under. Only the intervention of my mother, opening the bathroom door to see what all the commotion was about, saved me!

  ***

  “Over there,” shouted Brian. “Look, it’s a church.”

  In the shadow of the moonlight I could just about see a building.

  “Not very big,” I remarked. I’d imagined it to be vast, but it was only about the size of a very large house. As we got closer, it became clearer. It was a strange-looking church, if it was a church at all. The walls were made of the same bricks as the wall around the cemetery. The windows were narrow and oblong, like a castle. There were these large solid oak double doors at the side, with big black iron fittings and iron studs were embedded all over the doors.

  “This is definitely ancient,” I said to everyone. The walls were filthy, with cobwebs everywhere. Tony shone his torch up the face of the building.

  “Look,” he said. “Some sort of flat roof.” I looked up. It was like a parapet wall extending out from the building, about twelve feet high.

  “If we can get up there, we can get in,” Tony said excitedly.

  “We need a rope,” I said. “It’s the only way to get up there.”

  “Where are we going to get a rope from?” Tommy asked sheepishly.

  “Let’s have a look around and see what we can find,” I said.

  As we looked around the building, it became quite clear to me that this place hadn’t been used in years; completely derelict.

  “Nothing,” Tony said. “I can’t believe there’s sod all here to use. My dad’s got a rope in the garage. I could go home and get it. If I run I could be back here in an hour. What do ya think, lads?”

  “It’s half past twelve, Tony,” I said.

  “Let’s go home and come back tomorrow,” Tommy pleaded.

  “I’ll wait for ya, Tony,” said Brian.

  “OK, Tony, get going,” I agreed reluctantly. “I’ll wait till half past one.”

  With that assurance, Tony legged it immediately, disappearing into the dense woodland.

  “Wait for me,” Tommy shouted. But it was too late. There’s one thing about Tony; he can shift when he has to. Tommy was seriously stressed. “I wanted to go home,” he said.

  “Look, just be patient,” I told him. “This is something we need to do, OK, mate?” I said, glaring at him.

  “Fine,” was his reply.

  All three of us sat on a tombstone and waited for Tony. I lit up a fag, filling my lungs with smoke. Sitting there quietly, I drifted off into deep thoughts…

  The dense 52 acres of woodland surrounding the cemetery,

  is quite an amazing sight

  ***

  “Hurry up, Ed. We’re going to miss the coach,” Danny moaned. “OK, I’m coming. Just give me a tick.”

  We both legged it up the street to the school gates. The coach was half full. Mums and dads were seeing their kids off. I’d never been on a school holiday before, what an adventure! Tony and Brian were already on the coach, peering out of the window laughing at Danny and me.

  “Didn’t think you were going to make it,” Tony laughed as we both boarded the coach and sat down.

  “Neither did I,” Danny blurted out. “Ed was still packing his bags at 8:30.” He laughed. The coach started to pull away. I was looking out of the window to see if my mum or dad had bothered to come and see me off but they hadn’t.

  “Well,” Brian said, “this is it. Sayers Croft, here we come.”

  Mr. Parkin stood up and started to lecture us on how to behave when we arrived, laying down his own set of rules.

  “How much money you got to spend, Brian?” Tony asked.

  “My dad gave me a tenner,” he replied.

  God, I thought. He’s rich. I only had two ten bob notes to my name.

  “What about you, Dan?”

  “Seven pounds my nan gave me.” Danny’s parents divorced and he now lived with his nan in the same street as me.

  “What about you, Tony?” Brian asked.

  “Twenty pounds,” was his reply.

  You’re having a laugh. Mind you, his dad was a black cab driver and they always had money and holidays abroad. “How about you, Ed?”

  “Not a lot,” I sighed. “They’re supposed to post me some money during the week,” I said, unconvincingly.

  How could they do this to me; a bloody pound to last two weeks?

  ***

  There was a loud crack and rustling in the bushes. I jumped up and saw Tony moving towards us, carrying his dad’s tow rope around his neck.

  “That was quick,” I said, all surprised.

  “Yeah, found a shortcut on the way back. Come on then, let’s get up there and try this rope out.” Tony started to put a big knot in the end of the rope. Several attempts later, the knot finally settled between the gaps in the crenulations on top of the wall. He put one foot on the wall and gave a large tug on the rope. “Sound,” he said, “who’s first?” Brian walked over, grabbed the rope, gave it a tug and pulled himself up.

  “Come on, Ed,” he whispered. “It’s easy.” I started to pull myself up, noticing that the brickwork was uneven. It really was easy; just like climbing a ladder. Within a minute, all four of us were on the flat roof. We stood there for a few seconds looking over the cemetery. This is scary stuff. So dark and not a sound to hear, apart from Tommy’s heavy breathing as he struggled to get up. Tommy started to pull the rope up when suddenly there was a loud scream. It came from the woods in front of the church. I froze with fear. Straining my eyes into the shadows, I caught a glimpse of the bushes moving rapidly. A tall figure came running out into the clearing towards the church. A lump rose in my throat that almost choked me. It was at this point that Tommy dropped the rope, but no one noticed.

  We were all crouched down behind the parapet wall peering through the gaps, dreading what we would see. No one said a word. We watched this figure dressed in a black hooded cloak approach the wall where we had climbed up. Suddenly he, or it, was out of view. I realised he must be up against the wall. At the time we didn’t know it, but it was a good job Tommy dropped the rope. Otherwise it would have been seen hanging there and we would have been rumbled. All of a sudden we heard voices below. Shit, there’s more than one. What have I got myself into? I looked at Tony and his expression, and that of the others, was a look of abject terror. I tried to make out what was being said be
low but it was all mumbled. I could only pick out a couple words. “Sacrifice,” one voice said. “The rules,” said the other. I felt a shiver run down my spine and I started to feel light-headed. Suddenly, the talking stopped and it fell silent again. After a few minutes I knew they had gone.

  “Now what?” I whispered to Tony.

  “We must get out of here,” Brian said. Tony nodded his head in agreement; his eyes were wild with shock. Tommy, ashen-faced and trembling, said nothing.

  I pointed out that Tommy dropped the bloody rope.

  “Bloody great,” Tony said sarcastically.

  “We’ve got no choice; we have to climb into the church and look for a way out,” Brian suggested, reluctantly.

  While crossing the flat roof I noticed that two of the windows were broken. I pointed this out to the others. Tony stuck his head through one and shone his torch into the darkness below.

  “Yeah, there’s a bookcase just below the window. We can climb down onto it and lower ourselves to the ground.” Within seconds he was in and standing on the top of this old bookcase. “Very sturdy, this is,” he assured us. “Come on, it’s a piece of cake.” So I climbed in through the window, my mind full of misgivings. “Climb down, Ed, we can’t get all of us on here.”

  “OK, let me get my bearings first,” I replied.

  I dropped to the side of the bookcase and then I was hanging there, reluctant to let go. I had no idea how high I was, or if anything was underneath me. I closed my eyes and dropped. Why I closed my eyes I haven’t got a clue; I couldn’t see anyway. I landed on my feet and sighed with relief. “OK I’m in,” I whispered. One by one they dropped down. Tony shone his torch around. There were a few rows of pews and at the far end was a funny shaped altar. To the left and right were identical arch-shaped doors. Opposite, on the right of the pews, stood two large entrance doors.

  “That’s the way out,” Tommy yelled excitedly.

  “Not so bloody loud, you knob,” Brian barked.