I Love Ghost Stories
This is partly based on two incidents in the same area at night time when I was convinced a girl had run into the path of my car only to find there was no girl, but later found out a girl had committed suicide there some years before by jumping in front of a car. I've never believed in ghosts but for some years avoided the area. Until one night when I had to drive along there and my car broke down at the very same spot. I admit I was scared while I awaited the arrival of assistance.( This didn't happen in 1930 !!).
November, 1930. Alan felt he'd had a good year. Married to his childhood sweetheart; the two of them had acquired a small but pleasant cottage in the English Lake District. A new job with a top pharmaceutical company as a sales rep which came with a new car - a black Austin Seven; state-of-the-art when it didn't break down. His latest assignment didn't please him greatly, coming as it did shortly before his new wife's birthday. It involved driving to Inverness in Northern Scotland, quite an undertaking in 1930.
He carefully worked out his route and timings, determined to be home in time for Fiona's birthday. With a name like Fiona he should have brought her with him but she had other things to do. But as we all know the best laid plans of mice and men....It was the day before her birthday and he was just finishing his tour. The 300+ miles would somehow have to be covered on the following day. Phones in Scotland in 1930 weren't that thick on the ground either.
Come the morning, ominous black clouds were gathering. His landlady supplied him with a packed lunch and much cautionary advice - the phrase "She can wait" cropping up often in the latter. He set off, the rain and sleet slanting down ceaselessly, the winds ever increasing like banshees howling. After some hours he came to realise that another facility not thick on the ground was petrol pumps. He finally spotted one but the elderly owner had decided to call it a day and was locking up. Only his offer to pay double enticed the Scotsman to open up again : 3/8d a gallon rather than 1/10d. At this rate it would cost him a pound to fill the tank! "Ye'll not get tae England tonight lad. The road's closed four mile down". The attendant reluctantly told him about a mountain detour he could take - definitely not recommended. Eventually Alan reached the blockage - a burst riverbank, and turned sharp left onto a track climbing steeply up a mountain and into a forest.
Progress was now frustratingly slow. Sharp bends every few yards, torrential rain, loud cracks of thunder with lightning flashes as a reminder of the inadequacy of the headlights. At last a straight section so he put his foot down. Aware of a bend ahead he was delaying breaking as long as possible. Suddenly a girl ran out from the side of the road straight into his path and waving her arms. He banged his foot on the brake pedal causing the car to skid around at 180 degrees. On such a narrow road he couldn't have avoided her. The shock hit him like one of the lightning bolts. Reaching for a flashlight he got out wondering if she was alive. Horrified at what he expected to see he shone the light up and down the narrow muddy road and along the ditches. No body!.He got down onto his knees in the rain and looked under the car. Nothing! He was stopped on a bend so got back into the car and inched forward, only to practically collide with a tree, fallen across the road just round the bend. Jesus, if he hadn't been stopped he'd have been dead !.
Eventually getting the car turned he returned along the route he had come at a fraction of the speed. Still no body - hugely relieving in one sense, but also very scary. He badly needed some human company. Spotting a dim light in the distance he steered the car into a very muddy lane and proceeded towards it to arrive at what was little more than a hovel. The elderly couple within were reluctant to admit him but eventually relented. He told them his story but after exchanging glances,silence. No there were no police round there and no phones. He lay in bed, grateful for the warmth but unable to sleep. He breakfasted almost without thinking, until the lady of the house set a yellowing newspaper in front of him "What's this?". "Read it". The date was yesterday's. No it wasn't. It was 1920. Jesus! The girl he'd seen in his headlights was staring at him under the headline "Killed after motor car collision with fallen tree". "Who was she?". The old lady was weeping. "Our daughter. She'd insisted on driving over to the valley to see her boyfriend, despite the storm".
A somewhat hostile Fiona awaited him. "Have you been with another woman?". "She saved my life".
November, 1930. Alan felt he'd had a good year. Married to his childhood sweetheart; the two of them had acquired a small but pleasant cottage in the English Lake District. A new job with a top pharmaceutical company as a sales rep which came with a new car - a black Austin Seven; state-of-the-art when it didn't break down. His latest assignment didn't please him greatly, coming as it did shortly before his new wife's birthday. It involved driving to Inverness in Northern Scotland, quite an undertaking in 1930.
He carefully worked out his route and timings, determined to be home in time for Fiona's birthday. With a name like Fiona he should have brought her with him but she had other things to do. But as we all know the best laid plans of mice and men....It was the day before her birthday and he was just finishing his tour. The 300+ miles would somehow have to be covered on the following day. Phones in Scotland in 1930 weren't that thick on the ground either.
Come the morning, ominous black clouds were gathering. His landlady supplied him with a packed lunch and much cautionary advice - the phrase "She can wait" cropping up often in the latter. He set off, the rain and sleet slanting down ceaselessly, the winds ever increasing like banshees howling. After some hours he came to realise that another facility not thick on the ground was petrol pumps. He finally spotted one but the elderly owner had decided to call it a day and was locking up. Only his offer to pay double enticed the Scotsman to open up again : 3/8d a gallon rather than 1/10d. At this rate it would cost him a pound to fill the tank! "Ye'll not get tae England tonight lad. The road's closed four mile down". The attendant reluctantly told him about a mountain detour he could take - definitely not recommended. Eventually Alan reached the blockage - a burst riverbank, and turned sharp left onto a track climbing steeply up a mountain and into a forest.
Progress was now frustratingly slow. Sharp bends every few yards, torrential rain, loud cracks of thunder with lightning flashes as a reminder of the inadequacy of the headlights. At last a straight section so he put his foot down. Aware of a bend ahead he was delaying breaking as long as possible. Suddenly a girl ran out from the side of the road straight into his path and waving her arms. He banged his foot on the brake pedal causing the car to skid around at 180 degrees. On such a narrow road he couldn't have avoided her. The shock hit him like one of the lightning bolts. Reaching for a flashlight he got out wondering if she was alive. Horrified at what he expected to see he shone the light up and down the narrow muddy road and along the ditches. No body!.He got down onto his knees in the rain and looked under the car. Nothing! He was stopped on a bend so got back into the car and inched forward, only to practically collide with a tree, fallen across the road just round the bend. Jesus, if he hadn't been stopped he'd have been dead !.
Eventually getting the car turned he returned along the route he had come at a fraction of the speed. Still no body - hugely relieving in one sense, but also very scary. He badly needed some human company. Spotting a dim light in the distance he steered the car into a very muddy lane and proceeded towards it to arrive at what was little more than a hovel. The elderly couple within were reluctant to admit him but eventually relented. He told them his story but after exchanging glances,silence. No there were no police round there and no phones. He lay in bed, grateful for the warmth but unable to sleep. He breakfasted almost without thinking, until the lady of the house set a yellowing newspaper in front of him "What's this?". "Read it". The date was yesterday's. No it wasn't. It was 1920. Jesus! The girl he'd seen in his headlights was staring at him under the headline "Killed after motor car collision with fallen tree". "Who was she?". The old lady was weeping. "Our daughter. She'd insisted on driving over to the valley to see her boyfriend, despite the storm".
A somewhat hostile Fiona awaited him. "Have you been with another woman?". "She saved my life".
