A Cockney's Journey

by Eddie Allen

  “The last time I saw her was a few weeks ago. She was with this blonde guy doing shopping up Rye Lane,” I told her.

  “So you obviously haven’t heard then?”

  “Heard what?” I asked, feeling a little uneasy about what she was going to tell me.

  “Ann’s run away from home with him. Her parents have informed the police and they’re looking for them.” Karen noticed the hurt in my eyes. “You’re better off out of it Eddie, She would only hurt you.”

  “Yeah, mate. Plenty more fish in the sea,” Spud said all seriously. “Anyway, what you up to tonight?”

  My mind was buzzing. He obviously wasn’t a bloody relative or friend. My first instincts were spot on. Fucking bitch!! I couldn’t even be bothered telling them it was my birthday.

  “Well, I’m supposed to meet Brian and Tony in a while, I don’t think I can be arsed at the moment though,” I told them, sounding really pissed off.

  Lyn was looking at me with pity in her eyes, then she said smiling, “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we all go out later to the Lyceum? We haven’t been out to the disco for a while.”

  “That’s a blinding idea! What do you reckon, Ed?” Karen said all enthusiastically. “I could do with a good dance.”

  “As it happens, that sounds a really cool idea, Karen.” I said, forcing a smile on my face.

  “Good. We’ll meet outside at half past eight,” was Spud’s eager reply.

  “OK, I’ll catch up with you lot later, then.”

  We all separated, going home in different directions to get ready for the night’s entertainment. I remember the last time we all went to that club. We were all dancing to the Funky Chicken; what a pathetic dance, everybody acting like they were Norman Collier. Halfway though my routine, I split my Levi ‘stay-pressed’ strides. Not a pretty sight, the only thing holding them up was my half-inch braces. My multi-coloured boxers were picked out embarrassingly by the strobe lights.

  Unfortunately, a certain turn of events prevented me from meeting up with Spud, Lyn and Karen that night. I opened the back gate, making my way to the back door. I walked into the kitchen, scanning the place for my dinner.

  “You’re late from work,” my mum shouted from the living room.

  “Yeah, I had to help Candy with her car. It broke down in Lyndhurst Way and I fixed it!” I said proudly. I walked into the front room. Everybody was watching the telly. I sat down near the fire trying to get myself warm. After a while, the feelings in my body came back to life. I looked at them; their eyes were fixed on the box as if mesmerised.

  He was out. Thank God. The less I see of him, the better.

  “Any grub, Mum?” I asked politely.

  “There’s a plate in the oven. It’s probably cold now, but that’s what happens when you’re late,” she said sarcastically.

  I walked into the kitchen, opening the oven. Cold mashed spuds with one sausage and beans. I stood by the sink, looking into the garden and eating my cold dinner with a fork, my mind drifting off with each mouthful. Nobody had remembered my birthday, except the lovely Candy, Laurie, Clare and Rose. Not even my parents, brothers or sisters could be bothered to remember. After I finished my dinner, I washed up my plate and fork and decided to go up to my bedroom for a bit of solitude. I made my way upstairs, knowing my bedroom was going to be bloody freezing. I opened my bedroom door flicking on the light; walking over to my bed, I plonked myself down. I reached into my inside coat pocket pulling out my present from Rose. Leaning over the bed, I tied the dream catcher to the headboard, hoping that it would help restrain him from entering my world. I sat there in silence, my mind deep in thought, recalling past events…

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The bulldozers were hard at it, pulling down all the houses in every street. The dust, noise and total destruction of the neighbourhood was catastrophic. Even to this day and for the life of me, I just don’t understand why it happened. Hundreds of houses were demolished, streets were ripped up; all the places I used to play in as a kid were flattened to a pile of rubble. Absolutely bloody horrendous, and for what? To be replaced with a crime-consumed North Peckham estate. Even the postmen and milkmen refused to deliver there for fear of being mugged. Residents were subjected to the highest level of criminal damage and vandalism. Homes were constantly robbed, cars were burnt out, serious sexual assaults occurred regularly; there were gangs of youths running wild. At night, nobody would walk about or answer their doors for fear of these criminals. Anybody stupid enough to venture into the estate would more than likely get mugged or violently beaten up. Quite a few local drunks found this out when they used it as a short cut from the local pub. Drug dealers and gang-warfare would follow years later. And, after twenty-five years, the powers-that-be finally realised what a complete fuck-up they had made in deciding to pull it down and build new houses!!! Now, that’s what I call laughable progress.

  It was during the demolition stage that my mates and I decided to use one of these large derelict houses as a camp. It was set back from the street in large grounds. Why they left it to last I haven’t a clue, but they did. So we commandeered the house and no one knew. The house was completely boarded up. The crumbling walls were covered with tattered creepers and the garden was full of empty cans and filthy mattresses. While searching in the garden, we found a coal-cellar door obscured by bushes and overgrown brambles. It took us hours to dig the earth away so we could jimmy the door open. Inside, the coal-chute was empty. Getting into the house was now very easy; we had our own entrance and exit via the coal-chute. Tony, Brian and I climbed through the opening - I must admit to it being a tight squeeze but we managed to get in. Once inside, we stood straining our eyes, surveying the basement to the house. There were faint rays of light penetrating the boarded windows through the occasional gaps. This cast an unearthly and somewhat spooky light in certain areas of the house; the rest was in complete darkness. There was a smell like old cupboards and damp timber. It was surprisingly cold and I thought this was a little odd considering that it was a warm summer’s evening. I took a pace forward, stopping when I heard a loud crack under my feet. Most of the floorboards were rotten; we were going to find it a tricky job avoiding all the holes in the floor.

  “Be careful where you tread, lads. Otherwise, you’ll go straight through the floor,” I warned Tony and Brian. I wasn’t exactly scared but the feeling of unease consumed my body. Suddenly, there was a creaking noise above our heads from the room upstairs. We stood looking at each other with blank expressions, wondering what it could be. The creaking continued, as though there was someone walking about the room. Then it stopped and silence fell.

  “Old floorboards creaking, that happens all the time in old houses,” Tony said reassuringly.

  “It could be rats running around,” Brian muttered.

  Great, I thought, not my favourite rodents. Just the sight of a rat makes my skin crawl.

  Treading carefully, we made our way out of the basement, slowly climbing up the rickety stairs to the ground floor.

  “These stairs are a bit dodgy. They’re moving all over the place,” Brian said, alarmed. Just as I was thinking he was right, there came a loud snap and shout from behind me.

  “Fuck!” shouted Tony. “The bloody tread gave way! Lucky I was only on the second one.” He pulled his foot out slowly, making his way very gingerly to the top. We stood in a large oval hall. I couldn’t see any details because of the darkness. I moved carefully, fully aware that if I went through any floorboards, I’d end up back in the basement!

  “Let’s split up and explore the whole house. See if we can find a decent room to have as our base,” Tony suggested. “Brian and me will take the first and second floors; you can take this floor, Eddie. OK?”

  The pair of them disappeared up the stairs leaving me on my jack. I stood there for a second, listening to their mumbling voices getting fainter the higher they went. I scanned the hall, noticing four doors and moved towards the closest door to my right. I p
ushed it open and entered the room. The door swung to behind me, closing with a thud. Rays of light pinned the room in all directions, I carefully walked to the centre of the floor, the room was completely empty. Three rays of light hit an old fireplace to my left. I noticed an opened book in the hearth, lying face up. I moved towards the fireplace, picking up the book. I thought it was really weird that the only thing in this old rotten house was a book. Closing the book, I moved it about catching the thin rays of light so I could read the title: The Afterlife by Dr. Kelly Parker. Suddenly and for no apparent reason, I felt the temperature in the room drop drastically. I could see my breath in small clouds of freezing cold air. The hairs on my body stood on end. I knew instantly that I was not alone in the room; my heart started to pound rapidly, but not from fear, more like excitement. There’s nothing to be afraid of, I told myself. I looked round the room, straining my eyes, looking for any movement. Even though my heart was pumping like mad, I felt really calm and collected. The rays of light started flickering as if something invisible was moving rapidly around the room. I took a deep breath and carefully moved away from the fireplace. My attention focused on the far corner of the room. Standing in the dark shadows was a tall figure; I couldn’t make out what it was. The light didn’t reach that far across the room.

  “Who are you?” I whispered nervously.

  “Who am I? Who are you?” the voice asked. “What are you doing in my house?” she said calmly. The woman’s voice wasn’t angry or threatening, which made me feel at ease.

  “My name is Eddie and we were just being nosey, having a look round this old empty house,” I said innocently.

  “I am so pleased that you have come,” she said, just as if she had been expecting me. “It’s not often I get the chance to come back, but when I do there’s never any mortals around.” That statement took me aback.

  “Do you mean the other side, lady?” I asked.

  “My word, you’re clued up for a youngster. Are you not frightened of the unknown?” she sounded surprised.

  “No, not really, Well…I mean, there’s good and bad spirits,” I said, sure of myself.

  “How do you know that I’m not a evil spirit?”

  “I don’t know, for sure. If you were I would get the same feeling I’ve had before,” I answered confidently.

  “Before, you say. You’ve met an evil spirit before, have you?”

  “Yes, I have on several occasions. He’s a nasty piece of work, is Tyzak.”

  “Tyzak! I’ve heard about him. He’s known as the gatherer of souls. He searches all the astral planes and the big void for the lost and bewildered.” She then changed the subject rather quickly.

  “That book you are holding, I need you to return it to its rightful owner. Will you do that for me?” she asked softly.

  “Yeah, no problem,” I assured her.

  “Good. Inside is the person’s name and address. Tell them I’m sorry it’s late coming back. They will understand.”

  “If they ask me who returned the book, what shall I say?”

  “My name is Mrs. Winters,” she informed me. The figure moved across the room, gliding towards the door, and I watched in amazement as she passed straight through the door into the hall. I stood there for a while expecting to wake up. Am I dreaming or did this really happen? I wasn’t sure, but then I felt the book in my hand and I knew it wasn’t a dream. I was so excited I ran to the door flinging it open, shouting out for Tony and Brian, clinging to the book like my life depended on it. I’ve got proof at last!! They were both standing in the hall at the foot of the stairs. Their eyes were wild; faces distorted with fear and disbelief, the thin rays of light running across their petrified faces.

  “You fucking saw her, didn’t you. Answer me, will you? You saw her?” I screamed at them.

  Tony sat on the stairs, putting his head in his hands.

  “Yes, she passed straight through us on the stairs,” he said quietly. Brian was standing there, white-faced, staring at me in shock.

  “I’ve just been talking to her in that room,” I informed them.

  “I know. We stood on the stairs listening to the voices coming from the room,” Brian said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  Tony looked up at me. “Aren’t you scared?” he asked.

  “Not at all, she gave me this book. I promised to return it to the person named inside.”

  “Are you going to?” Brian asked nervously.

  “Absolutely! Soon as we’re outside and I can see to read it, I’ll return it,” I said, all sincere.

  We made our way down to the basement, treading carefully on the rickety stairs. We approached the coal-chute in deadly silence and then it happened again. There was a loud thud followed by creaking footsteps above. Suddenly one of the doors opened and banged shut; heavy footsteps slowly trudged across the hall floor heading in the direction of the basement stairs. It’s not Mrs. Winters, I thought to myself. Suddenly I had a strange feeling of unease and dread possesses me. I felt cold and unsure of myself, fear gripping my body. The footsteps stopped at the top of the stairs, as if something was peering down into the darkness below. We stood huddled by the coal-chute, our eyes staring with horror at the top of the stairs. The silence was frightening; not a sound came from anywhere. The creaking of the top tread broke the silence. My heart started to thump uncontrollably and beads of sweat ran down my face. I looked at Brian; his face was frantic with fear. I could feel Tony shaking like a leaf. Then the second tread creaked. Whoever it was stood there in silence. I looked at Tony, shaking my head. I wanted to tell him that it must be human, otherwise the treads wouldn’t squeak but my throat had closed up solid with fear and nothing came out. I was straining my eyes into the darkness trying to see what was on the stairs, but there was nothing but darkness. The thin rays of light from the boarded windows vanished into the darkness and were not strong enough to penetrate any worthwhile distance. The next tread creaked with a slight crack. He’s too heavy. The stairs will cave in, he must know that, surely? I grabbed both their arms, trying to communicate my thoughts. I was ready to make my move, thinking that if he continued to descend the stairs, he would undoubtedly fall through them. The sound of heavy breathing engulfed the silence, followed by an almighty crashing sound with screams of pain coming from the centre of the stairs. I turned round to the pair of them.

  “Go! For fuck’s sake, get going!”

  They both took turns squeezing through the coal-chute. I was just about to climb into it too when I heard a voice. Clinging to the book, I turned round facing the stairs.

  “Help me please, boy,” the voice pleaded.

  “Who are you? What are you doing in this house?” I demanded, acting like I had every right to be there myself.

  “I’ve been sleeping in one of the rooms upstairs for the past few nights until I find somewhere to live,” he said, choking on the pain. “I heard voices and movement. I should have stayed where I was,” he said, his voice trembling.

  I slowly walked over to the stairs where he was trapped. I started to feel sorry for him. As I got closer, I could see this heavy thickset guy with a long greying beard, wearing filthy clothes, stinking of booze. His face was distorted in agony. I looked down at his legs. One was trapped between the treads, the other had a large shaped timber stake speared through the back of his calf and out through his shin.

  “Shit, you need an ambulance,” I cried hysterically.

  “Eddie, you all right? Where the fuck are you?” Tony screamed down the coal-chute, sounding worried.

  “I’ll be out in a second,” I assured him, my reply echoing up the chute. I turned round to the trapped man, telling him that I would get an ambulance for him. “How did you get in?” I asked all curiously.

  “The back door,” he said. “It’s unlocked. I just pulled the board and it popped open.”

  “Good, I’ll tell the ambulance men.”

  I climbed through to the other side. Tony grabbed my shoulders panicking, and pu
lled me out into the garden. I quickly explained what had happened to the guy inside the house.

  “Wait here for me. I’m going to get an ambulance for him,” I said, as I ran out of the garden, running up to Peckham Road where I knew there was an ambulance station opposite my old primary school. I explained everything to the guy who was manning the phones. I returned to the house where Tony and Brian were waiting, sitting on the garden wall. “They’re on the way. Should be here soon,” I said confidently. I ran over shouting down the coal-chute telling the guy what was going on. I heard a faint acknowledgement, followed by a thank you. I sat on the wall with both of them flicking through pages in the book.

  “What did she look like?” I asked Tony, referring to the apparition on the stairs.

  “Tall, slim with a wrinkled old face and wispy long grey hair,” he said quietly.

  “Didn’t you see her, Eddie?” Brian asked, looking surprised. “You was talking to her, weren’t you?”

  “No, I never. She stood in the shadows. All I could make out was that she was tall.”

  The conversation ceased immediately on hearing the sound of ambulance bells ringing. Two ambulance men came running up the garden, carrying a stretcher.

  “Where is he, son?” asked the short fat guy. I explained how to get in and where he was trapped.

  “Leave it to us. We’re professionals, we’ll get him out safe and sound,” said the lanky ambulance man. They disappeared round the back of the house.

  I continued to browse through the book, looking for the person who I was to give this book to. “Ah, found it’! I said, excitedly. “Pamela and Simon Goldsmith of seventy-seven Oakwell Drive, Camberwell, South East London. Do either of you know the whereabouts of Oakwell Drive?” I asked, hoping their answer would be yes. Unfortunately, I got a resounding no from both of them. Just then, the two ambulance men carrying the injured guy on the stretcher came struggling round from the back of the house.