My Neighbours Are Stealing My Mail

by Ian Edwards

  Alan stepped forward. ‘I’m Alan and this…’ He gestured at James, ‘…is James.’

  James gave Alfie a wave and a nod. ‘Alfie.’

  ‘Why don’t you come with me?’ Alfie suggested. ‘We’re setting up the stage.’

  Alan looked around the foyer with its broken models and torn plans. ‘Let’s go.’

  *

  ‘How long have you worked on the show?’ Alan asked as he and James followed Alfie along the passageways to the auditorium.

  ‘Since the beginning. All four series, so nearly three years.’

  ‘So you’ve seen a few things, right? Odd things?’ James asked.

  Alfie laughed. ‘Oh yeah, dude. We’ve had headless monks, headless ladies and the headless coachman of Salisbury Plain.’

  ‘Have you ever seen a ghost that actually had a head?’ James asked. Alan sniggered.

  Alfie laughed. ‘Chester’s the one that sees them.’

  Frankie stood ahead of them in front of the large swing doors leading into the auditorium.

  ‘So do you think you could easily sense a ghost?’ Alan asked.

  ‘Absolutely, dude,’ Alfie confirmed as he pushed the doors open, oblivious to Frankie’s presence. ‘I’m not saying I’m psychic, but I do have a heightened sense of these things…’ He held the door open for Alan and James to follow him. ‘I think we all have. Years of being in and around the supernatural has had an effect.’

  Alan nodded. ‘So you’re saying that you would know if, for example, a ghost was standing right behind you.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘Yeah, I’d be aware of their presence.’

  Frankie stood behind Alfie making bunny ears over his head, pulling a face.

  ‘And you’re sure about that?’ James asked, realising what was going on.

  ‘We’ll be sure to stick close to you, ‘Alan said. ‘You can be our early warning ghost alert.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘I’m going to get myself set up. You guys have a look round.’

  Alan and James watched Alfie clamber up onto the stage.

  ‘Pillock,’ Alan said quietly.

  ‘I thought he was alright,’ James said. ‘Maybe Frankie is just very hard to detect.’

  ‘Unfortunately not for me,’ Alan replied.

  ‘I heard that,’ Frankie said.

  ‘You were supposed to. Anyway did you find anything?’

  Frankie shrugged. ‘Not really. I just get a weird sensation, like I’m being watched.’

  ‘Alfie thought there’d been poltergeist activity in the foyer,’ Alan told him. ‘And that leads to the cellar where Sarah had her…experience.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure that was where I was in my dream,’ Frankie said. ‘I reckon we should steer clear of that place.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ James asked looking from Alan to an empty space alongside him.

  ‘Frankie’s got a weird feeling about this place.’

  James wrinkled his nose. ‘It does have a weird vibe. Like a…’ he frowned, searching for the right words. ‘Like when there’s a thunderstorm coming. Do you know what I mean?’

  Alan shook his head. ‘No.’

  Before James could add say anything further Alfie called them over. ‘Hey guys, come over and meet Brett.’

  Alan, James and Frankie turned to face Alfie and another hipster.

  ‘This is Brett, the sound guy.’

  Alan’s first thought was that introducing Brett as the sound guy was probably a little unnecessary as he was carrying a large boom mic and had a pair of headphones round his neck. He was also wearing a baseball cap back to front. Alan disliked him immediately.

  ‘Hey dudes,’ Brett said in an equally irritating manner, placing his hands on Alan and James’ shoulders. ‘Ready for some serious ghost hunting?’

  Alan looked Brett up and down with disdain. ‘Hi Brett,’ he said while James simply nodded.

  ‘Once we start turning this place over there’ll be ghosts everywhere. We’ll be knee deep in ectoplasm by 1am,’ Brett laughed and bumped fists with Alfie. ‘Has Alfie told you about the headless monks?’

  ‘Yep,’ Alfie said.

  ‘What about the headless lady?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘The headless coachman of Salisbury Plain?’

  Alfie nodded. ‘I’ve told them about all the headless ones.’

  ‘No worries Alfie.’ He turned to Alan. ‘Some of things we’ve seen, they’d make your hair curl. Though to be honest, ghosts today aren’t what they used to be.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ James asked.

  Alan and Frankie exchanged looks.

  ‘When we first started doing this show, the ghosts you’d come across really made an effort. They’d scream, throw things around, slam doors. You know, take a bit of pride in their haunting…’

  ‘But these days,’ Alfie continued. ‘It seems a bit like too much trouble for them. We get a bit of moaning here, the odd dropping of a cup there. Occasionally they bring the temperature down, and if they can bothered they might whistle a bit. But it all seems like a bit of an effort for them.’

  ‘The last show we did at this vicarage in Hampshire,’ Brett continued, taking up the baton from Alfie. ‘It was supposed to be haunted by this defrocked member of the clergy but we didn’t see anything. In the end we offered him some money to do something.’

  ‘Money?’ Alan asked, puzzled. ‘Do ghosts need money?’

  ‘You better hope not,’ Frankie said. ‘Otherwise I’m going to start charging you for my jokes.’

  ‘We don’t know,’ Alfie said. ‘He never took us up on our offer.’

  Frankie shook his head. ‘I think this is going to be a very long night.’

  Chapter 40

  ‘…And then Alfie here slipped in the ectoplasm and went arse over tip.’

  Brett and Alfie high fived each other and collapsed into laughter.

  Alan and James laughed politely while Frankie sighed and shook his head. ‘How many more of these stories have we got to put up with?’ He moaned.

  Alan gazed over at the stage, bored of Alfie and Brett’s stories. ‘What goes on up there?’ He asked.

  ‘That’s the HQ. The centre of operations,’ Brett told him.

  ‘Mission control,’ Alfie added somewhat needlessly.

  ‘Come up and have a look,’ Alfie said, bounding up the steps to the stage, followed closely by Brett.

  ‘If the trapdoor is still working they’re both going down it,’ Alan whispered to James as they stepped onto the stage.

  Brett placed his mic on the floor, gesturing round the stage. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘It looks like the set of a low budget chat show,’ Frankie announced to no one but Alan.

  Alan shrugged noncommittally. A chair and a sofa were angled next to each other with a coffee table in front. A camera had been fixed into position capturing the chairs and sofa.

  ‘So this is where the show is run from?’ James asked.

  Brett dropped down into the chair. ‘Yeah, Marion will anchor from here, and the guests come on and go on the sofa.’

  ‘Where are you guys based?’ Alan asked.

  Alfie lifted his camera up and started tracking round the stage. ‘We’ll be roaming round the building, looking for ghosts and things that go bump in the night. We’ll be working with Chester.’

  ‘Chester?’ James asked.

  Alan frowned. ‘He’s the medium isn’t he?’

  ‘Chester Wideberth,’ Brett said nodding. ‘Best medium in the world.’

  ‘If it’s dead, Chester can talk to it,’ Alfie added confirming Brett’s boast.

  ‘Really?’ Frankie said, suddenly interested.

  ‘Really?’ Alan repeated for the benefit of everybody else.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Alfie said casually. ‘He once did karaoke with Elvis.’

  ‘Presley?’ James asked.

  ‘Well, Costello’s not dead yet,’ Brett said.

  James nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
r />   ‘Where was this?’ Alan asked.

  ‘A karaoke bar in Soho,’ Brett explained. ‘There was a report of paranormal activity. The lights would fail and the music system would always default to Elvis songs.’

  Alan rolled his eyes. ‘Sounds awful.’

  ‘So we went in to investigate and Chester found the spirit of Elvis. He agreed to do a couple of songs with him, then went on his way.’

  ‘What songs?’ James asked.

  ‘Jailhouse Rock and Blue Suede Shoes,’ Alfie told them.

  James nodded. ‘Good choice.’

  Alan frowned. ‘Did you actually see this duet?’

  ‘Dude!’ Alfie and Brett said together. Alfie continued; ‘We told you, Chester’s the medium, we’re not. We couldn’t see Elvis, but we saw Chester singing, and he told us Elvis joined in.’

  ‘Chester said that Elvis still has it. Death hasn’t stopped him hitting those notes,’ Brett said.

  ‘Did you ever find out why the ghost of Elvis Presley was haunting a Karaoke bar in Soho?’

  ‘Well, he told Chester it was the lure of performing that kept him walking through eternity.’

  ‘That and the smell of the McDonalds next door,’ Brett added, unaware of Frankie’s laughter.

  ‘So anyway…’ Alfie began.

  ‘Excuse me,’ a voice called out from behind them. To Alan’s relief this brought the stories to a halt. ‘I’m looking for the best damn ghost hunters in the world.’

  Everyone turned to look at the new arrival.

  ‘Chester!’ Brett cried out.

  ‘Hey dude,’ Alfie said, joining Brett and Chester Wideberth in a three way hug.

  ‘Are we ready to kick some supernatural ass?’ Chester asked, high fiving his friends.

  ‘Are these guys for real?’ James whispered.

  ‘Worrying isn’t it,’ Alan whispered back.

  Alan gave Chester the once over. He was tall and thin, his black suit hanging from his bony limbs.

  ‘He’s wearing sunglasses,’ Frankie pointed out as Chester turned to face them.

  ‘Thanks, I was wondering what they were,’ Alan replied.

  ‘Chester,’ Alfie said. ‘This is Alan and James. They’re going to be hanging out with us today.’

  Alan offered Chester his hand which Chester ignored, instead he gathered Alan and James together in a hug.

  ‘You’re on the team today guys. We don’t do handshakes. We do hugs,’ Chester said, emphasising his point with a tighter squeeze.

  ‘I’ll think I’ll skip team hug,’ Frankie said and disappeared.

  Chester finally relinquished his grasp, pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and said; ‘Right, let’s go and get ourselves some food. We can’t go ghost hunting on an empty stomach.’

  He clapped Brett on the shoulder and pushed him towards the exit. ‘Lead on, sir.’

  Alan shrugged, following the others to the food truck. Alan felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out, looking at the screen.

  ‘What’s up?’ James asked.

  ‘It’s Sarah,’ he mouthed.

  James smirked.

  Alan tapped the screen. ‘Hi Sarah, how’s it going…? Yes…No I haven’t…No. Seriously, nothing’s happened. Yes I will…I know you do but everything’s good…OK…OK…I’ll call you later…OK…No… Still No…B…B…Bye.’

  James smiled. ‘Everything OK?’ He teased.

  Alan nodded. ‘Absolutely fine. She’s got complete faith in me.’

  *

  The caterers had set up tables on the pavement alongside the lorry, much to the annoyance of passing pedestrians. Alan and James collected their plates of food, joining Alfie, Brett and Chester at a white plastic table.

  ‘So, Chester,’ James said while pursuing a piece of pasta round his plate with his fork. ‘Are you sensing anything yet? Is there a disturbance in the force?’

  ‘Good question,’ Chester put his spoon down. ‘There is definitely something odd here, I can feel a presence…’

  Alan looked around, but there was no sign of Frankie.

  Chester put his hand in the air, calling for silence. ‘It’s very close,’ he said softly. ‘Almost as if I could reach out and touch it.’

  He reached out over the table and took a Gingerbread Man from Alfie’s plate.

  ‘I see bread people.’

  Alan rolled his eyes while James giggled and Brett collapsed into hysterics.

  ‘Brilliant,’ Alfie said, bumping fists with the medium.

  ‘Hi guys,’ Joy said, appearing at the end of the table. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’ Without waiting for an answer, she dragged a chair from the next table, squeezing between Alan and James.

  Chester drained a plastic cup of water. ‘Everything OK?’

  Joy gave him a smile. ‘All good, Chester. I just need to check a few things with you.’

  ‘Fire away.’

  ‘Have you done your walk around yet?’

  Chester said that they hadn’t, while Alfie and Brett shook their heads.

  ‘What’s a walk around?’ James asked, earning a glare from Alan. ‘What?’ He protested. ‘I don’t know…’

  ‘That’s OK buddy,’ Chester said. ‘No reason why you should.’

  Brett put his spoon down. ‘Before we start broadcasting we walk around the location to get a feel for the place. Sometimes Chester can get a vibe for a certain room and we’ll hang out there for a bit, see if anything happens.’

  ‘It’s not always a room though is it?’ Alfie interrupted. ‘Do you remember that house in Hendon? It turned out we were dealing with a haunted garden.’

  ‘Strictly speaking it was a haunted patio,’ Chester said.

  ‘Alan frowned. ‘A haunted patio?’

  ‘We were told about this house which had several owners in less than two years,’ Joy explained. ‘There had been stories about unexplained supernatural phenomenon, so we went in to investigate. Chester found out one of the previous owners had murdered his wife and buried her body under the patio.’

  ‘Your man here…’ Alfie patted Chester on the shoulder, ‘…solved the mystery.’

  James nodded. ‘Haunted by the murdered wife from under the patio.’

  Alfie and Chester exchanged looks.

  ‘Dude…’ Brett sighed.

  ‘What?’ James said, puzzled.

  ‘It wasn’t the murdered wife under the patio doing the haunting.’

  ‘It wasn’t?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Alfie grinned. ‘It’s obvious.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘It was the ghost of the husband.’

  James shrugged. ‘Sorry, I don’t get it.’

  ‘The wife…’ Joy began, ‘was a large lady weighing more than twenty five stone. Her husband had been sick of her nagging for years, so one night he finally cracked and beat her to death with a frozen leg of lamb. This being unplanned, he had no idea what to with the body. So his first action was to get rid of the murder weapon…’

  ‘He cooked it,’ Chester laughed. ‘He made himself a massive roast dinner which he ate all on his own.

  Joy continued. ‘He finished his dinner and decided to bury his wife’s body under the patio. He waited until night, then lifted the paving. He dug down and when he was deep enough he dragged his dead wife’s body….’

  ‘His dead wife’s fat body,’ Alfie added.

  ‘Yes, dragging her large dead body out of the house and rolling her into the hole. He then filled it with soil and concrete and cemented the paving back into place. Now the husband was not a healthy man. He was also overweight and the strain of killing his wife, digging a hole and lifting and relaying the patio…’

  ‘Not to mention eating a family sized roast dinner just before hauling her into the grave,’ Brett added.

  ‘All this gave him a massive heart attack, and he died.’

  ‘He was found three days later, dead on the patio by the neighbours,’ Joy said. ‘Of course, no one knew what ha
d happened to his wife. There was no evidence of anything untoward. Obviously no murder weapon was found, just a man who had a heart attack.’

  ‘And it was Chester who spoke to the ghost and found out the truth?’ Alan asked.

  Alfie nodded.

  Alan paused for a moment. ‘Did anyone else see the ghost?’

  Brett looked puzzled. ‘No dude, that’s Chester’s job.’

  ‘OK guys, if we can get back on track…’ Joy paused and waited until she had everyone’s attention. ‘Thank you. We’ve got a lot of work to do before tonight’s broadcast, so let’s make sure we’ve got everything covered.’

  ‘What have you got for us?’ Chester asked.

  ‘I’d like you to focus on the cellar when you do your walk around. That’s where the incidents appear to radiate from, and our eye witness accounts support that.’ She dipped into her satchel and produced several sheets of A4 paper which she passed out to Chester, Alfie and Brett. ‘These are the statements taken from the man responsible for the building works, Mr Hander and Sarah Gayle, who work for the Arts Council. She received serious injuries a week ago in the cellar. In fact she’s still in hospital.’

  Chester looked up from his papers. ‘Mr Hander?’

  ‘He’s around somewhere. You should speak to him. Alan has met him and he’s also friends with Sarah Gayle, so any questions you have you might want to speak to him first.’

  Alan smiled, whilst on the inside his heart sank. He was being reluctantly dragged deeper and deeper into this situation when all he wanted to do was go home.

  Joy looked round the table. ‘Any questions?

  Chester shook his head. ‘Not from me.’

  Alfie and Brett shook their heads, which she took as her queue to stand up. ‘I’m off to meet Marjorie at the station. I’ll see you later.’

  ‘Marjorie?’ James said.

  ‘Marjorie Jeffers. Star of stage and screen…’ Alfie explained.

  ‘Well up to 1983 she was,’ Brett interrupted.

  Alfie continued. ‘She’s the presenter of the show. She stays up on the stage and links all our bits together.’

  ‘Nice cushy number,’ Brett mumbled.

  ‘It’s an important job,’ Chester told them. ‘Which she is very good at.’