Writing for Fun
A Ghost's Story - Jeanette Rothwell
October 2014
Here comes that Estate Agent's posh car again. I hope it is someone nice this time. The last viewer was a very smart businessman who went around knocking on walls and talking about ripping out the kitchen, converting some rooms, changing the fireplace and so on. How dare he talk about spoiling this grand old house? He wanted to convert it into a boutique hotel, whatever that is.
When the businessman returned to have another look at the house, I managed to make the house smell damp and musty, conjured up a few cockroaches, and even some mouse droppings, which made him shake his head and leave quickly.
This new lot of viewers look better; a family of Mum and Dad and three children. The pink, eager faces of the children, the parents trying not to look too excited. They seem to appreciate the ambience of the house (I have made it smell nice for them). The children are polite and they ask if they can go and play in the garden. Soon they are running around the grand old oak tree and the sound of their laughter is music to my ears. It's a long time since that happened.
The last young family to live for any length of time in this lovely old house were Lord and Lady Cartwright and their children. Sadly, Lord Cartwright went to war and his loving farewell to his family was the last we saw of him. I looked after the children for the Lady. She mourned the loss of her husband for a long time so I had a fairly free hand with the children. They were great fun and enjoyed many simple pleasures like admiring the wild flowers, climbing trees, taking the dog for a walk and playing board games in the bad weather.
Once the children had all grown up and left home for pastures new, the Lady kept me occupied with a bit of sewing and mending until my eyes could no longer see the stitching and my health deteriorated. Then, apparently my heart gave out, but I have no recollection of what happened. Anyway I woke up after a few days, probably after the funeral; I suppose my body is buried in the local churchyard. I could have gone to a higher place, but I love this house so much and I've been having such fun ever since. Although I do wish that I had died wearing something decent rather than my nightdress, old dressing gown and worn out slippers but at least I don't feel the cold any more, that's for sure.
What a shame that old Lady Cartwright took so long to die many years ago! It meant that she had to have a nurse to look after her, which was a disaster. That nurse was ripping her off something rotten. I did my best to make life uncomfortable for her. One day when the Nurse was getting into her battered old mini to go off to the shops, I tipped over the dustbin in the driveway and she had to get out, leaving the engine running, to pick it up. While she was doing that I released the brake and the car rolled forward to be brought up sharply by the hedge which followed the driveway. The hedge was a pretty solid affair and the car looked even more battered after that. She cursed and cursed and I had a quiet giggle about it.
I made her bedroom pretty uncomfortable too, with nasty smells and strange noises in the night. I also gave her nightmares. Eventually I won and she left without a backward glance. After that the nice housekeeper, Mrs Hall, looked after Lady Cartwright until her death. Since Lady Cartwright's funeral, the house has not really had any permanent residents and it badly needs some life and love.
No, I forgot, there was a young couple who stayed here for a few weeks. It was early days and I hadn't really got the hang of this walking through walls etc. Anyway, there were a few bumps and bangs and I think my knocking over a vase of flowers and a small table did rather frighten them and they decided to head back to London at top speed, even though the man kept saying that he didn't believe in ghosts.
I do hope this family will buy it. Here they are again; they have also come to have another viewing. I look closely at the Mum and can tell that she is expecting her fourth child. A baby in the house would be wonderful. Oh please make the Estate Agent an offer then I can stop working so hard at putting people off and the big box in the corner of the lounge will show children's pictures again which I love.
A few years ago another family rented the house for a short time and I was fascinated by that talking box in the corner. It showed lots of colour and was rather noisy but I learned a lot of new words and phrases like 'website', iPlayer, and twitter (I thought that was what birds did). They were very busy people. The children were teenagers and rather rowdy but they only used part of the house and had a nice cleaning lady to keep it fresh so I left them alone for a while and had a bit of a holiday.
I went down to the churchyard in the village and wandered around the graves at night. Nobody came to disturb me. I suppose my slightly green aura in the darkness (albeit in my dressing gown) did rather put them off. The Vicar was OK about it as I heard him say to one parishioner that my presence was ensuring that the lead wasn't taken off the roof.
What he didn't know was that three boys did appear one night with ladders and all sorts of strange tools. When I realised what they were up to, I wobbled the ladder, threw their tools around and made moaning noises. You couldn't see them for dust they ran away so fast. Serve them right!
When I was a young Nanny with the children in tow, the old Vicar used to greet me so kindly and let them collect conkers in the cemetery while I helped do the flowers in the church. Currently, I hope that my presence at night doesn't stop the locals from coming to church on Sundays. I don't mean them any harm; I just want to protect the church for them.
One murky evening, the atmosphere in the churchyard was very uneasy and my friends there were doing a lot of murmuring and grumbling, so I went down to the village to see if I could see the reason. Children had gathered on the village green, dressed in very strange clothes and they had painted their lovely little faces in all sorts of weird colours. Then they broke up into groups and started to knock on front doors. When the doors were opened, they would shout something that sounded like 'trickortreat' and the grown-ups would laughingly give them sweets. They would then move happily on to the next house.
Until they got to the fifth house. The door was opened by a grumpy old man who shouted at them to go away and leave him alone. One little girl started to cry and that made me so cross that I emanated like mad and as I was standing at the back of the children I made sure that over their heads he could see my green face staring at him. His eyes opened wide, and his jaw dropped, then he slammed the door shut very loudly. This made the little girl cry even more and I realised that I wasn't helping the situation.
I followed them to the next house where the lovely owner invited them in and gave them drinks and little cakes which made the little girl smile again. When I returned to the churchyard I told my friends about the incident and they all decided to go to the grumpy old man's house and give him nightmares. They also thought it would be a good idea to make his drains smell.
After my little holiday, I went back to the house by which time that family had left and once more I had nothing to do. It's a waste of time walking through solid walls or making interesting smells or even making the effort to utter shrieks and wails if there is nobody there to appreciate my efforts. Besides it takes a lot of energy to do all those things and I'm not getting any younger.
At last a huge lorry drew up at the door, followed by a large car containing the lovely family I was telling you about. The men from the lorry unloaded all sorts of new furniture and I could see that the house was going to look splendid with their posh couches and chairs. They obviously appreciated its ambience and decor.
Since moving in they have made a few alterations which bothered me for a while, but I can see from having watched that big box which I gather is called a TV, that their new furniture looks very smart and seems to blend nicely with the refurbishment of the original décor
I would love to sit with the children with my arms around them and watch that big box. I gather it is a 42 inch flat screen HD, whatever that means, but I will have to be content with being in the room with them when they come home from school, and when the baby comes, I will watch over him (I know it is going to be a boy) while the mother is busy. She may not know it but I will be the children's Nanny again in this lovely old house and I will keep them safe and secure for another generation.