by Eddie Allen
“You sure you wasn’t dreaming, Jane?” I said, condescendingly.
“No, well, I don’t think I was. I mean, oh shit, Eddie, I am so confused, I’m not sure at all now,” she sobbed. I gently pushed her away and opened the door. She followed me into the hall. I switched the new hall light on, flooding the hallway and stairs in a bright light.
“I must have a jimmy,” I informed her. I tiptoed into the bathroom to relieve myself. Whoosh! Went the cistern after pulling the chain.
Bloody noisy thing; enough to wake the dead.
Washing my hands, I returned to Jane, who was sitting on the stairs looking distraught. “Look, Jane, you more than likely had a nightmare. I’ve had bad dreams where I could have sworn they were real,” I reassured her sympathetically. I had to nip this in the bud; try and convince her she was dreaming. I knew, however, she didn’t have a nightmare. I also knew that this building held a terrible secret.
“Yeah, I suppose so. Must have been the wine,” she sighed.
Why didn’t I think of that? Of course, blame the booze.
“I won’t be a sec,” she whispered, opening the door and creeping into the flat. She returned with a packet of fags and her lighter. We both sat on the stairs puffing our fags, filling the hallway with clouds of smoke.
“How long you been going out with Al?” I asked, changing the subject a bit lively.
“About ten days. He’s really not my cup of tea, actually. My brother arranged a blind date with him. I’ve ended up going with the flow at the moment, just to keep Paul happy,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Shall we go back and try to get some kip?” I suggested, yawning.
“Can we just sit here for a while longer, please, Eddie?” she asked, looking into my eyes pleadingly. She was obviously still nervous.
“Yeah, no problem, if you don’t mind me nicking your fags?” I said cracking a large smile.
“Not at all,” she grinned. We sat there chatting for hours, talking about everything and anything. What an interesting bird she is, I thought. We eventually crept back inside, leaving the hallway stinking of stale tobacco smoke. Jane slipped under the blanket on the settee, crashing out. I stood in the bedroom, looking down at Daniel wondering what I should do and thinking it might be a good idea to look for somewhere else to live. I eased myself gently into bed; my mind unsettled by recent events. Tossing and turning, I eventually dropped off to sleep, feeling deeply concerned about our situation.
The following evening I decided not to take up Al’s offer of a good earner, preferring to stay with Sue and Daniel. Explaining to Al about the entire weird goings on in the building was extremely hard work! To say it fell on deaf ears was an understatement. He doesn’t believe in the spirit world or religion. I had no plans to convince him otherwise. Over the next couple of weeks, certain personal effects kept disappearing, only to reappear days later. We would find Daniel’s fluffy toys in the bath and on the stairs; not a bad feat for a child who couldn’t walk yet. The most amazing incident happened one Thursday morning. I got up as usual for work and in the middle of the front room, lying on the carpet was a fob watch, surrounded by seven foreign coins. Where they came from, I couldn’t say. They just materialised overnight. Every day we heard a cacophony of sounds - rappings, rustlings and shuffling - coming from the stairs and rooms above. We found scribbling all over the white painted walls in the hall, which was near impossible to decipher. Sue wanted to move back to her mum’s and wait for the council to rehouse us; we’d been on the list since we got married. She was sure we would soon be made an offer; however, I convinced her to stay until we did get such an offer. Unfortunately, the worst was yet to come and ultimately forced the three of us to vacate the building rather sharpish.
It all started on Friday 10th January, 1973. What happened on this date has stayed vivid in my mind ever since. I woke at 6:30 for work. Fumbling around in the darkness, I made my way to the front room. Shutting the bedroom door, I switched the light on. Straight away I noticed it was missing. I turned round to open the bedroom door to inform Sue, but then changed my mind, deciding to check the hall and bathroom first. The hall was clear so I entered the bathroom. What confronted me was an absolute shock!! My eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing; standing in the tub on its side was our bloody television. I stood there for a moment shaking my head in disbelief, wondering what I should do. Picking the box up, I returned it back to its original place, thinking that I couldn’t tell her, as it would just make matters worse. Kissing Sue goodbye, I left for work at 7:40, but this time I caught a bus to Peckham, deciding to take the day off work. I needed answers and information quick, so I visited Rose. After a lengthy chat, I explained to her everything that’d been going on. Rose suggested visiting the local library to get more info. She reckoned her knowledge of poltergeist phenomenon was very limited. So I took her advice and visited the library.
I borrowed two large books from aisle three called Demonic Spirits from the Afterlife and Poltergeists Phenomena and Paranormal Studies. I sat, reading excerpts from both books for hours, totally fascinated by the information at my fingertips.
I was dragged from my reading by the sound of a bell. I looked up at the library clock. Blimey, it’s 3:55.
“We shut in five minutes, young man,” the librarian informed me.
“Thanks, I’ve read enough now,” I said closing the book. Returning the books to the shelf, I left.
***
Looking back on my childhood and teenage years, I realise that I definitely behaved and felt a lot older than I was. Pushing seventeen but feeling ten years older; dealing with poltergeist phenomenon like I was an adult, I knew there was more to my existence than met my young eyes. If I didn’t know, I would make sure I found out by reading or asking questions. Everybody used to say I had an old head on a young body. Subsequently, it stood me in good stead for the trials and tribulations I was going to encounter on my journeys in life.
***
After leaving the library, I boarded the bus home, with the sole intention to move us out of the flat. Arriving home, I encountered a hysterically happy Sue, waving a letter.
“We’ve just been offered a house off the Old Kent Road!” she screamed, jumping up and down in the front room, frightening Daniel and making him cry. “We’ve got to view the house on Monday morning at 10 o’clock,” she cried, tears of joy running down her face.
I was dumbstruck; I couldn’t believe that what I wished for a few hours ago had actually happened. We sat drinking coffee and making plans to move next week. We were both so excited; we couldn’t wait till Monday. That evening after dinner we retired to bed early, seeing as there was sod all on the box to watch, and lay chatting for a while before we finally dropped off to sleep.
I jerked awake with a feeling like my leg had shaken me. Turning over, I lay on my back, focusing my tired eyes in the darkness. Suddenly, something jumped from the mantelpiece above, landing on my chest and diving under the bedcovers in the same movement. Trying to slide out of bed, I realised I was paralysed. My legs wouldn’t move, no matter how many times my brain instructed them to; they just refused. I glanced over to Sue shouting for help but my cries were not heard. It was as though nothing came from my lips, even though I could hear my own desperate cries. The silence was broken by voices whispering in the room. Peering into the darkness, I witnessed, standing at the foot of the bed the transparent apparition of a women dressed in white. She was talking to somebody else in the room; having a heated conversation, in fact. The apparition was looking in the direction of the bedroom door and, standing behind me in the corner, stood this tall figure wearing a long type of dark overcoat. His large, round, dark hat obscured his head and face. I watched in terror, my heart pounding and my mind in disarray. The apparition glided towards the woman; raising its arm in an aggressive manner. Suddenly, I felt extreme pressure on my right ankle. Whatever had jumped off the mantelpiece had grabbed me. Reaching under the covers, I ran my hand down to where the pr
essure was being applied. To my utmost horror, I felt a cold hand wrapped around my ankle. The hand started to pull me out of the bed. I tried to resist but it was futile. The entity was far too powerful. I screamed as the hand jerked me effortlessly out of the foot of the bed and onto the floor in a heap. Sue’s screaming soon followed mine; she sat bolt upright witnessing the phenomenon. She leapt out of bed, pointing towards the apparition in the dark hat and coat.
“He’s got a fucking axe,” she screamed in blind panic. Daniel woke, crying hysterically and waving his little arms, seeking his mother for comfort. Sue flicked the bedside lamp on and dashed over to Daniel’s cot and picked him up. I looked about the room. It appeared that the phenomenon was over.
“That’s it, Eddie boy. We’re out of here, NOW! Phone a cab,” she demanded.
I jumped up, putting all the lights on in the building and gathering all our personal valuables. I was shaking from head to foot; my eyes were watching everywhere, expecting them to return. After getting everything we could carry, we ran out of the building into the street. I ran across the road to the phone box to dial the local cab office. I had to redial quite a few times because I couldn’t push the coin in due to my violent shaking.
We arrived at my in-laws in the early hours of Saturday morning, looking somewhat bedraggled. The only bright spark was the letter from Southwark council. After a few hours of restless sleep, Sue told me that I had to collect our belongings from the flat. I phoned my mate Toby to see if he was available to shift our gear some time that afternoon. Toby informed me the van’s brakes were being renewed and should be ready about 2 o’clock. We made arrangements to meet outside my in-laws’ at around about two. Toby turned up forty minutes late, blaming the garage for his delay. Arriving at the flat, we quickly filled the van, knowing that we would have to make another trip. Upon our return, the cold winter’s light was fading rapidly. The thought of being in that flat during darkness filled me with dread. Entering the front door, I flicked the light switch. Nothing happened. I looked up the stairs into the gloom, thinking that the bulbs must have blown.
“I’ve got a torch in the van. Won’t be a jiffy,” Toby said cheerfully. He knew nothing that had been going on. I chose not to tell him, for fear he wouldn’t agree to move our furniture. He returned, flashing his torch up the stairs.
“Here you are, Ed,” he said, handing me the torch. “After you, mate.”
I slowly crept up the creaking stairs, flashing the light all over the place.
“Bloody spooky in the dark, this gaff, isn’t it,” he said in a quiet voice.
You don’t know the half of it, my son, I thought to myself.
Standing in the hall outside my flat, I shone the torch up the next flight of stairs.
“What you looking for, Eddie?” Toby whispered.
“Nothing just curious, I’ve heard there’s been a lot of squatters in the manor lately,” I informed him, sticking the key in the door. Suddenly there was a loud thump from inside the flat. My heart started racing rapidly. Pushing the door open, I flicked the light switch and again nothing happened.
Oh shit! I thought, forcing myself to enter the front room.
“Ed, what’s the matter with you? You’re making me nervous,” he whispered in my ear.
“Long story, I’ll explain later. Right, let’s just take the stereo and records and piss off,” I said urgently.
Thud…Thud…Crash…Bang…
“Shit, what’s that? It’s coming from the bedroom. There’s someone in the room, Ed,” Toby said panicking.
I shone the torch on the bedroom door. Suddenly, all hell broke loose. It sounded like a mass brawl was going on in the bedroom. High-pitched screaming sent a shiver down my spine. I stood, rooted to the spot, as the door started to shake violently. The handle was rigorously turning left and right. Something was trying to get out of the room. The screaming stopped and was followed by three loud thuds to the floor; I felt the vibrations of the blows under my feet.
“What the fuck is going on, Ed?” Toby said, shaking my arm. Suddenly the front door slammed shut.
“Forget the stereo. Let’s get out of here, quick.”
I rushed over to the front door, turning the handle to open the door.
“Shit!” I turned it right and pulled the door. “It’s locked or jammed stuck,” I shrieked, panicking.
The temperature in the room plummeted. I started shivering, the hairs on my neck started to bristle. Toby took the torch from me while I tried in vain to prise open the door.
“Look!! For fuck’s sake, Ed! Look over there,” he screamed uncontrollably.
Glancing over my shoulder in the torchlight, to my horror, I could see a hand desperately trying to squeeze itself under the bedroom door. I returned my attention to the front door, kicking and punching, until the bottom panel split in half. Kicking the centre frantically, I heard a loud crack.
“We’re out. Come on, Toby,” I shouted, while ripping the centre stile out the door.
“Oh my God, look, Eddie,” Toby cried, pointing towards the bedroom door. It had started to open, slowly being pulled to and fro like there was something blocking its progress.
“I’m off,” I said, squeezing through the door, with Toby hot on my heels. We both leapt down the stairs and onto the street.
On our way back to my in-laws’, I tried to explain what had been happening. I don’t think he really grasped what I was telling him, but he saw everything that went on and was a reliable witness, which was good enough for me!
After a few weeks’ research, I found out from the local police station that in 1934, a married couple lived in the building. Unfortunately for the wife, her husband was a paranoid schizophrenic. He actually mutilated her body in a frenzied attack, chopping her up into pieces with an axe, then disposing of her body. However, during the police investigation, they dug up her body, which had been buried in the back garden, with the exception of her right hand, which was never found!
CHAPTER TEN
After viewing our new home, we moved in that same week. Not bad really: at seventeen we had our own two bedroomed house with a front garden and a very small back yard. However, there were a few major obstacles to get over, or should I say get used to. One was the lack of a bathroom, another was the outside toilet and also there was no hot water! Southwark Council told us that they would eventually modify our amenities so that we could have hot water and washing facilities. I think what really pissed me off was the lack of heating. In fact, there wasn’t any. We had electric fires and fan heaters in every room during the winter months, I used to stand and watch the wheel spin round on the electric meter, thinking that if it spun any faster, it would take off. So I decided to break the lead seal and stick a wedge of cardboard under the wheel to stop its momentum, which I did successfully for years without being sussed.
It was during this period of my life that I succumbed to peer pressure, namely Al, and went out earning with his villainous friends. This was the start of my demise as I spiralled out of control, forcing all my spiritual feelings and beliefs to the back of my mind. It was also the end of my relationship with Brian, Tony and Danny, as we all took different paths in our lives. Rose moved to the south coast and eventually I lost touch with all the friends from my childhood. I was now going to be sucked into the seedy world of villains and crime, at the tender age of eighteen.
It all started one Friday night. I was drinking with Al and a few of his cronies; they were discussing the night’s activities. The plan was to nick a set of wheels, preferably one with some ‘oomph’, just in case we had to outrun the Filth. I was reliably informed that that was my job, much to my displeasure. I’d never ever stolen a car before. In fact, I didn’t even know where to begin. I’d driven cars before and I’d like to think I was pretty neat behind a wheel. However, nicking one was a different story. I left the pub with strict instructions to be back within the hour with a fast set of wheels. I walked around the streets in a daze, looking at cars,
thinking how the hell am I going to do this? After a while, I came across this large, underground car park beneath some flats, my attention was alerted by the sight of this white Rover 2000. The driver’s side window wasn’t fully wound up and there was enough room to squeeze my arm down and pull the door button up. Once inside, I searched the car, looking and feeling in every corner. What for, you might ask? Well, in the seventies, car owners would hide their spare key inside the motor. Why? I haven’t got a clue, but they did. Low and behold, I found the spare key, hidden under the passenger seat carpet. What a cretin, I thought to myself. Some people have the brains of a rocking horse. On further investigation, I realised the owner was a woman. In the glove compartment were perfume, lipstick, a hairbrush and a dental appointment card with the name ‘Jackie Rowland’. I stuck the key in the ignition and screeched out of the car park. I parked the car discreetly in a side alley round the back of the boozer. Entering the pub, I informed the guys of my success. Al looked at me in disbelief.
“You actually nicked a motor? We were having bets that you would come back with nish,” he said, shaking his head.
“Right then, let’s make a move lads,” Frank insisted. “Where’s the wheels?” he asked impatiently.
“Follow me,” I said, feeling all pleased with myself.
“You ever driven on the motorway, Ed?” Harry asked.
“Err, not really. Why?” I responded.
“Because that’s where we’re going, mate,” Frank said, all cocky. “I’ll drive, just to be on the safe side, otherwise we’ll get lost.”
We all bundled into the Rover with Frank driving. I wasn’t very keen on Frank and Harry. The pair of them were a bit too aggressive for my liking; they made me feel uncomfortable and uncertain. I didn’t trust either of them.
We sped down the motorway, towards Redhill in Surrey. Frank was caning the arse out the Rover, which made me feel very uneasy. He turned off the motorway, driving like a man possessed, speeding through narrow country lanes and sleepy villages. He eventually stopped outside the local petrol station. I didn’t really know the SP, but I soon twigged why we were here. Now, in the seventies, petrol stations shut at about eleven in the evening, leaving a hundred pound float in the till for the next day’s shift. This was before they invented under-floor safes. Frank drove onto the forecourt, turning the cars lights off. He reversed straight through the glass doors. Well, before I had time to blink, we were inside, loading holdalls with all the fags on display, and I mean thousands of them. Harry opened the till, taking the float. We were in and out in a matter of minutes. That night, we hit four petrol stations, earning one hundred quid each. I was flabbergasted at the ease with which we carried out the thefts. We drove back to London, dumping the car in a multi-storey car park near Wandsworth. We then boarded a train back to the Elephant and Castle. This went on for months…
