Uncanny Tales – (005) – Chapter 03 – The House Guest and the Wise Counsel

I was trapped in the cottage and its environs, I was earth bound because I shut myself away to wallow in self-pity after the death of my wife Rose.

So, I had come to the conclusion that I must help another person in order to “move on” and re-join my Rose.

It would have been easier if I had done it while I was still alive I could have gone off and sought out someone to help, but as I was dead I had to wait for someone to come to me.

But then if I had lived out my last months in the world in the same way as I lived the rest of my life I wouldn’t have been in the mess I was in.

Or maybe this was how it was meant to be, it was my destiny to help someone, which is where Julie came in, she had come to the cottage to escape the world.

At that moment I didn’t know why, and I would need to know that before I could help her, and I was determined to help her whether she liked it or not.

But to find out what I needed to know I needed to be on good terms with her, which was not helped by my clumsy handling of the situation.

So, it was with some trepidation, after our angry exchange, that I went into the sitting room later in the day.

I feared she might take out the anger she felt towards me and channel it at the innocent revellers.

To be on the safe side I remained invisible until I had assessed the lay of the land, I half expect to see Julie sitting in a rocking chair swigging from a whisky bottle and catapulting sweets at the trick or treaters heads, but she was humming, I hadn’t witnessed her humming before, she did impatient tapping of her fingers, she did grinding her teeth, but I had never witnessed humming.

Despite the fact that the humming was a little unnerving, I took a gamble that it was safe, so I materialized.

“You’re humming” I said, and she jumped, I had startled her, and she was clearly flustered, then her face went scarlet.

“No, I’m not” she said indignantly.

“You were humming, I heard you”

“What you heard was me clearing my throat” Julie said without conviction, so she changed the subject.

“Anyway, where have you been, have you been keeping out of my way?”

“I thought it advisable” I said.

Before she had chance to comment she was alerted to approach of trick or treaters coming down the long winding path.

At this time of the day Julie would normally have to employ her stick to move with any kind of speed around the house but I noticed it was leant discretely against the wall behind the door out of sight of anyone who might be standing on the step if the door was open.

She pulled the curtain back a couple of inches and peered out.

“They’re coming, what do I do?” she asked urgently

“Well” I began.

“Oh, come on, you got me into this mess”

“Calm down you’ll have a stroke” I said

Julie took a deep breath and waited for me to speak.

“All the children will have a bag for their sweets” I told her.

“Yes, yes” she said impatiently.

“Well you put a small handful of sweets into each bag but don’t be too generous to early or you won’t have enough to go around everyone”

“Ok” she said and nodded.

“But first you have to open the door” I said inclining my head towards the closed door.

“Oh God yes” she said and laughed nervously “that would help”

Julie opened the door and was met with a chorus of “TRICK OR TREAT” from a small group of excited witches, warlocks, ghosts and ghouls.

“Wow look at you all” she said “What brilliant costumes”

“Ok who’s first?” she asked as she picked up one of the sweet tubs and scooped up a handful.

At the back of the group keeping order was a tall dark-haired man, wearing a flat cap and leather jacket, Julie caught his eye briefly and smiled and he smiled back, then carried on with the sweets, but she kept glancing in his direction, and she estimated he was in his thirties.

Soon she had deposited a handful of sweets into every bag and the group moved back up the path.

“Goodbye Miss Molesworth” the tall man said and smiled, and she smiled back and then looked self-consciously in my direction.

Despite herself she was still smiling as she shut the door.

“You didn’t smile at the children did you” I asked

“You’ll scar them for life”

“Oh! and which poor child was it that you made cry” she retorted

“Or was it someone else you were smiling at?” I said, and Julie blushed deeply just as the doorbell rang.

“Saved by the bell” I said

Julie opened the door and repeated the exercise, and then another three times until the sweet tubs were empty and all the village children had had their share, then she closed the door and reached for her cane.

“I’m exhausted”

“You enjoyed it though?”

She gave me a stern sideways glance and I could see pain in her features.

“Ask me later after I’ve had a drink” she said and then with a bottle of wine and a glass she hobbled towards her armchair.

“Will you join me?” She asked smiling “Oh I forgot you can’t”

“Oh, that’s cruel”

After her first glass of wine she began to relax and after the second she had lowered her guard.

“You had a good time, didn’t you?” I ventured.

“Ok yes I enjoyed, it though I’ll deny it tomorrow”   

“And the smile?”

“I admit he was very handsome, for a yokel”

“His name is Paul Warwick and he’s not so much a yokel more a country squire”

“Really” She said with disinterest

“So, which of the little darlings were his children?”

“None of them” I answered “He’s not married”

“Oh!” she exclaimed then replaced it with a rather muted “oh”

After another glass I thought it was safe to raise the subject of this afternoon’s exchange of views.

“Am I forgiven?” I asked.

“What for?” She slurred

It became apparent I had left it one glass too late for a sensible conversation, I had forgotten to take into account that she hadn’t eaten since lunch.

“This afternoon”

“Of course, you spoke very wisdomous words”

“Wisdomous?”

“Yes, you are very wisdomly” she said as she leant forward to raise her glass to me and slopped half of it on the table

“I think you mean wise”

“Well I was close” she almost said slopping more wine this time down her blouse.

“Time to get you to bed I think”

“You cheeky old ghost you” She said trying to get out of the chair.

Once she managed to get vertical her bad leg gave way and I had to catch her before she hit the floor.

It was a good job I had been practising otherwise I would never have been able to help her, it would have appeared as a very comical scene as I had a firm hold on Julie yet when she tried to hold onto me her hands kept going through me.

“You’re a difficult man to get to grips with Harry” she remarked with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Well you concentrate on staying upright and I will propel you upstairs to bed”

“Ok”

So, with her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth and one eye closed tight shut she managed to adopt a stance which kept her more or less upright.

I then gave her instructions “Left, Right, Left, Right” until we had made the journey up to her room then I guided her onto her bed.

“I hope you’re going to behave like a gentleman” she said and smiled, still with one eye shut tight.

“You’re quite safe, I’m dead remember” I replied as I covered her.

“That’s the story of my life” She said

“What is?”

“Trying to raise the dead in the bedroom” this caused her to explode with a laugh so dirty it wouldn’t have been out of place in a Carry On film, she was still chuckling when I turned out the light.

“Good night Julie”

“Night Harry”

 

The next morning, I was sat in the kitchen reading the local newspaper, when she walked in, surprisingly bright though she was walking quite stiffly, and she was a little shamefaced.

“Good morning Julie and how are we this morning?”

“I’m fine” she said shortly then she added.

“Was I very embarrassing last night?”

“Not very” I replied.

“Oh God, I was embarrassing though?”

“You were very funny it was nice to see you happy”

“Thanks to you” She said quietly.

“I beg your pardon?” I said and looked up from the paper quite shocked, but she was already on her way out the door for her physio appointment.

 

It was late afternoon when she returned, and she was moving only a little more stiffly than she had been when she left that morning.

“Didn’t you go to physio?” I asked

“Yes, I did, and it was the best session I’ve had” She replied “I think I’m turning the corner at last”

“Excellent”

“Good news and bad news from the doctor though”

“Oh?”

“The good news is he’s changed my medication which is stronger, but I only need to take them as and when needed”

“And the bad news?”

“Strictly no alcohol with these ones” She said holding up an innocuous looking brown bottle.

“A small price to pay though” I said encouragingly

“That’s easily said by someone who can’t hold their drink” she said then laughed like a drain, but her mirth was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Quick hide” She said

“Ok” I said jumping up.

“Wait a minute I don’t have to hide I’m a ghost, I’m invisible”

Julie looked at me and put one finger up to her lips indicating I should shut up even though she was the only one who could hear me, then she opened the door.

When the door opened it revealed a very wet Paul Warwick.

“Oh, look it’s the yokel” I said

“Hello Miss Molesworth” the yokel said

“Please call me Julie and do come in out of the rain”

“Thank you”

He stepped in and Julie closed the door.

“He’s dripping on your carpet”

“I hope I’m not disturbing you” Paul said.

“No not at all” She replied

“Good, it’s just I thought I could hear voices before”

“That was probably the radio” She lied

“Good” he said unconvinced.

“Quick change the subject” I suggested.

“Can I offer you a hot drink?”

“No thank you I can’t stop I’m afraid, I just called to see if you were aware of the November 5^th bonfire party?”

“No, I wasn’t” Julie answered

“Well we run a coach from the church hall over to Little Trotwood every year, they have an organised display, would you be interested?”

“That’s very kind of you but…”

“Go on say yes” I urged

“…my leg isn’t really up to it…”

“Liar”

“…. It’s not good in the damp weather”

“That’s a shame” Paul said sincerely “It’s always a very good display and they have the best hog roast in the county”

“Thank you anyway” Julie added

“If you change your mind just give me a call” He said reaching into his coat and bringing out a card which he handed to her.

“I will”

She opened the door again and Paul stepped out into the rain again.

“No problem, bye”

“Good bye and thanks again” Julie said closing the door.

“Coward” I said after she had shut the door.

“I don’t like fireworks that’s all” she said pulling a face.

“Coward”

“I’m not a coward” She replied indignantly.

“What else do you call it? He’s attracted to you and you to him”

“Nonsense” Julie said clearly flustered

“And even if there were any attraction I don’t need anyone in my life”

“Everyone needs someone” I said

“Rubbish, in the end people always let you down”

“You can’t tar everyone with the same brush” I said

“I don’t need anyone Harry, I’m perfectly happy on my own”

“Paul’s a good man” I pointed out

“It doesn’t matter how they start out in the end they always let you down, trust me”

I started to speak but she interrupted

“Harry let’s just agree to disagree, shall we?”

I knew I was fighting a losing battle so meekly I said “Ok”

“Good now I’m off to have a bath”

Uncanny Tales – (005) – Chapter 02 – The House Guest Exposed

Three days after, for want of a better phrase, I exposed myself to Juliana, was one of those wonderful early autumn days that lifts your spirits but can also take you by surprise when you step out into it as the sun can deceive you into thinking the summer hasn’t quite surrendered and then the bitter October wind stings you.

I couldn’t tell which it might be as it looked like it might be quite warm, but I couldn’t tell, firstly as I was inside looking out and secondly because I was dead and couldn’t feel anything. 

Juliana had been upstairs dressing as it was one of her physio days and she was just hobbling her way downstairs and I was beginning to think that she had indeed passed off our encounter as a hallucination but as she picked up her car keys and opened the front door she called back behind her without turning around.

“Bye Harry”

I didn’t reply because it caught me by surprise, but I don’t think she was looking for an answer though it was difficult to tell as there was no feeling behind the words.

Was it a “Bye Harry” see you later or “Bye Harry” I can’t live in a house with a ghost?

Or perhaps “Bye Harry” are you really there?

She was gone all day and I was beginning to think I had scared her away as it was unusual for her to be quite so late and it had been dark for some time when her car pulled up outside the cottage.

It was a little after seven when she came in through the door her face was tired and strained and she moved uncomfortably.

I had seen that pained look before in the weeks I had been observing her.

It was as a result of her physiotherapy sessions where they worked her hard and she suffered for it, but it was working, and she was getting better.

I had seen the change in her over the weeks and she was getting better, becoming stronger and less reliant on her stick, but her sessions left her exhausted and in a lot of pain.

She moved slowly over to the armchair and collapsed into it, after a few moments she rummaged in her bag and brought out a bottle of water then she reached onto the table and picked up her pills, her hand was shaking as she opened the bottle, she put one in her mouth and took a long drink of water then she leaned back and sighed.

She closed her eyes and was drifting off to sleep, so I sat in the chair opposite her and spoke to her.

“Juliana!”

She didn’t respond.

“Juliana!”

“What do you want?” she said without opening her eyes. “And don’t call me Juliana, only my Mother calls me Juliana”

“What should I call you then?”

She opened her eyes and looked straight at me.

“Julie is fine, but never Jules, I hate that”

“Ok” I said

She closed her eyes again.

“Julie”

“What?” She responded impatiently.

“You need to go to bed”

“I can sleep here, its fine now leave me alone”

“Julie, you need to go to bed”

“Leave me alone or I’ll call Ghostbusters and they’ll come and Hoover you up”

“They don’t exist” I said

“Nor do you” she replied

“But I’m here though, and I’m not going to shut up until you go to bed” I stated, and she opened one eye.

“That’s really unkind” she said with surprise.

“It’s for your own good” I said sagely

She looked unconvinced but struggled to her feet muttering under her breath, then she started slowly towards the stairs.

I felt guilty because it was clearly painful for her to walk but I knew it would be so much better for her to get a good rest in bed.

I wished I could help her, but I was unable to, I hadn’t mastered any of the physical stuff when I was in the cottage on my own it didn’t seem worth training myself to open a door when it was easier to walk through it.

Since I had had a house guest, or perhaps landlady would be more precise, as I was actually the house guest, I had been practising with some small success but propelling a person, even a small person, up a flight of stairs was beyond my capabilities.

“I can’t believe that I’m being haunted by Casper’s Granddad and he is making me do this” She said as she struggled up the stairs.

As she reached the top she paused briefly to catch her breath then she headed for her room.

“Tomorrow I’m calling an exorcist” she shouted.

A few minutes later all was silent, and, in an instant, I left the sitting room and transported myself to her bedroom.

It was the first time I’d been upstairs since she moved in and she had made the room very nice.

She was lying on her back fully clothed and sleeping peacefully on her bed.

On the trunk at the foot of her bed was a throw, which with a great deal of effort I managed to cover the lower half of her with it, and I was just about to continue when her hand reached down and pulled it the rest of the way up and she turned onto her side with the throw wrapped round her shoulders.

That left me with the simple task of flicking the light switch something that I had mastered.

 

The next day was a dull and dreary early October day and it was raining hard, the rain beating against the window glass like someone was throwing handfuls of gravel.

Julie didn’t come downstairs until 11 o’clock, I had heard her moving about upstairs from about ten then I could hear the bath running so after more than twelve hours sleep and a hot bath she made her way down the stairs in a good deal less pain than her ascent the night before.

She was bright and breezy and had real vitality about her such as I had not seen in her before, she was so alive, so vibrant, and she was smiling!

“Harry?” she called as she headed for the kitchen, but I said nothing.

“Harry?” She called again as she entered the kitchen

“Where are you?”

I appeared suddenly in front of her.

“Oh” She exclaimed and jumped, then she laughed.

“I’m here” I said, “What’s all the noise about?”

“It’s enough to wake the dead” I said and smiled.

“Yes, very funny” She said and was smiling too.

I studied her face, it was a very pretty face when you removed the pain that was normally etched into it, what a difference from the night before.

It was nice to see the beauty of the person when the bitterness and pain were removed or at least masked temporarily.

The girl before me today was nothing like the one I had been observing for the past month.

It was clearly only a type of euphoria which would undoubtedly wear off.

“I hated you last night” She said looking straight into my eyes “Making me climb those stairs”

“But today I feel the best I’ve felt since before the accident”

She had not mentioned the accident before.

“I could kiss you” she continued.

“Well that would be lovely but there is nothing to kiss, you’d fall straight through me and head butt the cooker” I pointed out, so she blew me a kiss instead.

“I’m glad you are feeling better”

“I know that it won’t last all day but for now I feel terrific”  

“You’ll be dancing by Christmas” I said

“Don’t spoil it by talking about Christmas, I hate Christmas”

“Why?”

“I will tell you another time I don’t want anything to spoil my mood”

 

The pain did return later that day though not as severe and the next morning the bitterness was back and for the rest of the month she did battle with her demons,

Julie had good days and bad days but overall the demons won.

She still kept herself to herself only leaving the house for physio appointments, which were paying dividends, and her only visitors were delivering one thing or another.

The majority of her time was spent on the computer which she used for her work, something involving pages and pages of gobbledygook, and as her window on the world, a world in which she did not have to participate but could merely be a spectator.

Unless she called on me I chose my moments to appear trying to gauge the right time in between her black moods.

It was while Julie was on the computer, on one of her good days that I chose to show myself.

She was ordering her groceries online when I dropped in.

“Don’t forget the sweets for Halloween” I said

“Oh God not Halloween” She replied.

“Don’t tell me you hate Halloween as well”

“Of course, I hate Halloween, why wouldn’t I, all those ghastly trick or treaters begging door to door”

She was bordering on rant mode and I was beginning to think I had picked the wrong time to call.

“Then there are the implied threats of violence and vandalism”

I looked at her and raised my eyebrows and she stopped and laughed

“You’re such a happy soul” I said

“Well why do you like it then?”

“I don’t really”

“So why do you want me to buy sweets? Did Rose like it? is that why?”

Neither Rose nor I were fans of Halloween before we moved to Appleby, but it was just part of living in the village.

The thing about Rose is that she was a community person and being part of the community was important to her.

We liked the way it was done, it was so different from our past experience, all the children would meet at the church hall and would go around in small groups each group being accompanied by adults, then they would all go back to the village hall and have a party with all the traditional Halloween games and there were prizes for the best costumes.

“No not exactly” I didn’t elaborate.

“You’re so odd” She said and turned back towards her computer.

“I was mean to them last year” I blurted.

“Who?”

“The children, I wasn’t very nice to them” I confessed and looked down at the floor

“I think I made one little girl cry”

“Oh”

“I feel ashamed of my behaviour, Rose would have been so mad”

“Well there’s nothing you can do about it now” She said.

“Hopefully the kids will remember their bad experience and not come knocking this year, so no sweets required”

She punctuated the end of the sentence with an Oliver Hardy style nod, then she smiled and got up and headed towards the bathroom.

I moved over to the computer I looked at the screen and observed that she was at the checkout.

Due to much practise, after all, it’s not as if I have anything else to do, I had mastered moving and manipulating things over the preceding weeks.

So, I sat down and took hold of the mouse, I quickly returned to where Julie had been shopping and found a large tub of Halloween sweets and clicked quantity required 2 and then “add to basket”, then returned her to the check out just as I heard the toilet flush.

I went and sat down again feeling rather pleased with myself, I was not totally unfamiliar with computers, but I had never shopped on line, but I had watched Julie enough times to pick up what to do.

When she returned she completed her shopping transaction and was none the wiser.

 

The next day when the shopping arrived, the driver unloaded the bags onto the step and Julie signed for the delivery and the driver left.

It was only after she had carried the bags into the kitchen and began to unpack them that she noticed the 2 large tubs of Halloween candy.

“HARRY!” she shouted and thumped one of the tubs onto the counter.

“HARRY!”

“You bellowed milady”

“Was this you?” she said pointing at the sweets.

“You ordered them after all” I said acting surprised “That’s really sweet”

“No, I did NOT” She corrected me.

“Well it wasn’t me” I said “I wouldn’t know how, you must have done it subconsciously”

“I am not the sort of person who would buy sweets for the little….”

I interrupted her

“Well obviously subconsciously you’re a very nice person” I said and disappeared.

 

I stayed out of her way for the next couple of days and I spent my time practising, I had mastered the fine manipulations such as flicking switches, unfolding a handkerchief and picking up a pen, I could even write, though my handwriting was still a bit shaky.

What I wasn’t very good at was moving large or heavy objects, so I was in the back garden trying to move the wheelbarrow, unfortunately when I eventually succeeded in moving it I managed to frighten a passing dog walker who was startled by the sight of a wheelbarrow moving along the path under its own power. 

So, I went indoors, where I found Julie was sat in her chair reading some documents, I was considering whether it was safe to appear when I noticed the tubs of sweets were stood on a chair next to the door in readiness for the evenings visitors.

I knew that beneath that thick veneer of bitterness and cynicism there resided a good human being.

I deduced that the fact that the sweets were now sitting on a chair and not in the dustbin meant that she was in one of her brighter moods.

I decided I would appear but that I wouldn’t mention the sweets just to be on the safe side.

“Hello”

She looks up from her papers then set them on the table in front of her.

“So, you’ve decided to show yourself”

“What do you mean? I’ve been busy” I said feigning an indignant attitude.

“Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I don’t have demands on my time”

“Yes, I saw you playing with the wheelbarrow”

“So, did Mary Rudd” I said sheepishly

“Who’s Mary Rudd?”

“Retired postmistress”

“And she saw you?” She asked smiling.

“No, she saw a self-propelled wheelbarrow, she’s probably having a large gin to recover as we speak” he said, and she was laughing now.

“Has anyone else seen you?” Julie asked.

“No and I only revealed myself to you because….”

“You thought I was going to top myself”

“Yes”

“I hope you think better of me now?” she asked, and I nodded.

“I do have low moments, and the world is a shitty place, but on the whole, I prefer life”

“I wish you’d start living it then” I said

“What do you mean?”

“If you prefer life why don’t you go out into the world and live it” I suggested

“You’re just jealous that I’m still alive and not dead like you” She said viciously

“No, you’re not dead you’re alive but you’re not living”

“You live your life though a computer screen” I continued

“You never meet people, you never interact with other human beings, you have everything delivered to your door”

She was about to interrupt but I pressed on before she had the chance.

“And if you could cut your own hair you would never see anyone at all”

“I have physio” she corrected me

“And what happens when you don’t need that anymore?” I said, and she snatched up her papers and scowled.

“I don’t need life tips from a ghost” she snapped, spitting out the words like venom, then she turned her back on me.

“Please don’t do what I did, don’t imprison yourself in this cottage” I pleaded but she ignored me, she was angry with me but not as angry as I was at myself.

I blew it, I pushed too hard and she pushed back, I could have got my point across with more subtlety, I was making progress but now I’d gone backwards.

Uncanny Tales – (005) – Chapter 01 – The House Guest at Chestnut Cottage

Chestnut Cottage is a rather quaint Tudor thatched dwelling with its white walls and black oak timbers, its rose covered lych-gate and a wishing well in the garden.

It is very much the stereo typical “chocolate box” image of an English country cottage.

It’s a fairly remote cottage situated at the end of Vicarage Lane some half a mile from the Church and about a mile from Appleby village itself.

My name is Harry Tyler and I lived in the cottage for more than twenty years and by the time summer came to an end I had been in residence another eight months after I died.

Not in a physical sense, my body did not lie undiscovered, decomposing in my armchair, I was found and dealt with in the proper manner.

At the time I was happy enough to die, though I took no hand in it I hasten to add, I died of natural causes.

The last year of my life was a mere existence after the death of my dear wife Rose.

We had no children of our own and what other family that were left we were not close to.

Rose and I had been happily married for 47 years and we retired to Appleby village and we had such a nice life together.

She was my conduit to the world, she was the interface that connected me to people, so after she was gone it was like being stranded in a foreign land without a translator.

To find myself alone in the world at the age of seventy-four filled me with dread so I withdrew into the safety of the cottage and became very reclusive and only ventured out when I had to.

So, when I died I naturally thought I would be reunited with my Rose again, but I remained in the cottage and she was nowhere to be found.

I spent every day confined to the cottage and garden the same prison I confined myself to before I died.

In many ways it was no difference to when I was alive except I didn’t have to eat or drink.

Nor did I have to wash or comb my hair or trim my beard and of course I didn’t feel anything.

I was exactly as I was when I died, a fat, old man with white hair and a beard, wearing the same clothes I had on when I breathed my last.

I hoped to God I didn’t have to spend eternity wearing that awful red jumper, I hated that jumper and the only reason I was wearing it at all was that my favourite one was still damp, and I didn’t want to catch a chill.

If I had realised I was going to pop my clogs anyway I would have worn the other one.

So, there I stood a fat white bearded old man wearing a red sweater that made me look like an off-duty Santa Claus.

I didn’t understand why I was still there, I didn’t want to be there I wanted to be with Rose.

I thought there must be something I had to do in order that I could move on, but at that time I had no idea what that something might have been.

 

On the first of September I thought to myself, today is not like any other day, today things are going to change.

I was standing in what used to be the bedroom Rose and I shared, and I was looking out through the window at the unfolding scene below.

A removal truck had just come to a stop in the lane and a small blue car parked a suitable distance behind it.

The driver of the of the car slowly got out and walked towards the gate, pausing briefly to speak to the removal men who were lowering the tail board, then she walked through the gate and down the long winding path.

She was an attractive young woman, late twenties or probably early thirties, petite with shoulder length black hair that shimmered with a hint of blue like a raven’s wing and she walked awkwardly with a stick in her right hand.

I recognised her at once, as one of fifteen or so prospective buyers who viewed the cottage during the summer.

I thought to myself that it would be nice to have company, even if there would be no conversation, it would be a bit like watching a soap opera on TV.

I would have preferred it to be a man; after all spying on a young woman would make me feel a bit like a peeping Tom, but I figured that beggars can’t be choosers.

Then as I watched her slow progress down the path something terrible occurred to me what if she was one of those awful naturist types who go about the house naked, where would I look?

Then I laughed at the stupid question I had asked myself, it was obvious where I would look, I might be dead, but I was still a man.

 

So, I watched her discreetly over the next week or so as she went about her unpacking and arranging her furniture, but due to my gentlemanly disposition I declared her bedroom and the bathroom as off limits.

As I was in my ninth month of limbo I was desperate for knowledge of the wider world and I was bitterly disappointed that she didn’t have a television, I really missed the TV and she didn’t listen to the radio either.

I had hoped she might at least take a daily paper but no, the only paper to come through the door was the local freebie.

She did have a computer and I did look-over her shoulder while she was using it, very rude I know and under normal circumstance I would never have done such a thing, but I thought to myself, needs must.

By the end of September, the computer had taught me a lot, I had established that her name was Juliana Molesworth and she was a workaholic who lived on the computer, in fact the computer was her life, it was her work, she shopped on it, she banked on it, it was her library, it was her music collection and it was her only friend.

Apart from her visits for physiotherapy she never went out and her only visitors were delivery people, oh and a hairdresser.

This young woman was making the same mistake that I had, she was cutting herself off from the world and making the cottage her prison.

Though I didn’t know why she was withdrawing from the world I now knew what I had to do to move on, I had to save Juliana from my own fate.

 

I know that strictly speaking as I was dead I couldn’t actually live with her, but after living with Juliana for five weeks it had become clear that she had gone to Chestnut Cottage to cut herself off from the world and I knew from bitter experience that that course of action was pure folly.

So, it became clear to me that my job was to show her the error of her ways, but I had absolutely no idea how I would achieve that.

For a start I was dead and invisible, although I could make myself visible without any difficulty, the problem was not if I could make her see me, but when and how, and would it make her freak out.

If she didn’t freak out at having a resident ghost, then she almost certainly would when she discovered she had been sharing the cottage with an old man who could make himself invisible.

I decided for the mean time to just maintain a watching brief just to keep an eye on her until I could figure out the best course of action.

I did allow her the odd glimpse, a reflection in a mirror, a shape in the corner of her eye just to test her nerve, but she seemed un-phased by it or would dismiss it with a shrug.

She seemed at least on the surface anyway, to be quite a strong character she was clearly in a lot of pain from her hip, for which she took strong pain killers. 

Juliana got around some of the day without her stick but towards the end of the day she couldn’t walk without it and she would rub her hip and you could see the pain etched into her face, and it was a pretty face when it wasn’t screwed up in pain, and she had hypnotic green eyes and a sensual mouth.

 

It was getting towards the end of the month and I was out in the garden, it had been a glorious late summer / early autumn day, the sun would have felt quite warm had I been able to feel it, and I was watching the sun set as I had so many times with Rose.

I missed her so much and I was feeling sorry for myself, so I stayed until the sun disappeared behind the trees then I went back inside.

Juliana was sat perched on the edge of an armchair and in front of her on the coffee table was a large glass of wine and a pile of pain killers, and I feared the worse as I sat in the empty armchair opposite her, to my mind booze and pills meant only one thing.

Her hand was shaking as it moved towards the tablets.

“Don’t do it” I said

“What?”

She looked around the room.

“Who said that?”

“I did” I said as I appeared, and she went stiff and white in response and said in alarm

“Where did you come from? How did you get in here? get out before I call the police”

Then she grabbed the empty pill bottle and threw it at me, but it went straight through my chest and hit the back of the chair before bouncing back on to the floor and came to a halt by her feet, by which time she had managed to pull herself to her feet and was wielding her cane, but when she saw the pill bottle come to a stop by her feet she flopped down into the chair and said.

“Damn I’ve taken too many and now I’m hallucinating”

“You’re not hallucinating” I said quietly “I’m really here”

“No, No, that’s not possible” She said and drained the wine glass then instantly refilled it.

“I’ve over dosed” She was trembling, and she held out a hand in front of her and watched it shake.

“Oh God now I’ve got the tremors” She closed her eyes tight for half a minute then opened them and stared at me.

“And you’re still here”

“You’re really not hallucinating” I said quietly “I’m really here, please don’t take your own life”

She took a double take and was suddenly calmer as she considered what I had said.

“Take my own life?” she said quizzically, then she glanced down at the pile of pills and the glass of wine.

“I’m not going to kill myself” she said, and I looked at her and nodded and said “good” but I didn’t believe her, and she could tell.

“I tipped them out to count them because my leg is hurting so bad I thought I must have missed taking one, but I haven’t damn it, and I can’t have another one for two hours” She said impatiently.

That made sense to me, and then I felt foolish and I had exposed myself for nothing.

“I can see you believe me now” She said, “So now tell me who you are or what you are?”

“My name is Harry Tyler”

“I know that name this was your house wasn’t it?”

“Yes”

“But you’re dead, you died here” She said and took a large gulp of wine “Are you a ghost or an angel?”

“I think I’m just a ghost, I haven’t been anywhere to become an angel”

“So why are you here? Why haven’t you gone to where dead people go?” she said before she drained her glass and filled it again quickly.

“I not really sure” I lied

There was silence for a few moments before she asked

“Is there a heaven?”

“I don’t know if there is a heaven or not, I’ve always believed that there was” I replied and paused for a moment

“My wife Rose died in this cottage and she has obviously gone somewhere”

“God how many people have died here? Is it cursed or something?” She asked and had another glug of wine, then a look of panic came over her face.

“Have you been here all the time, ever since I moved in I mean?” Then she flushed deep red.

“You haven’t been letching at me in the bath?”

I laughed and said.

“No, it’s alright don’t worry, I haven’t been letching at you even though you are a very attractive young woman”

She looked doubtful, so I continued.

“I am painfully aware that this is not my home anymore and as such there are areas that I have made off limits, I am a very discreet ghost”

She sighed and looked reassured and then we sat in silence for a while, then she fell asleep in the armchair.

 

For the next two days I didn’t show myself to her, partly because I thought it might be better for her to digest the knowledge of my existence for a while before I spoke to her again and partly because I was angry at myself for misreading the situation the previous evening and alerting her to my presence unnecessarily.

I had acted on the spur of the moment, but in truth it hadn’t upset my plans in anyway, chiefly because I didn’t have a plan to upset.

Of course, there was always the possibility she might think she had imagined the whole thing as a result of the wine and painkillers.

I looked in on her from time to time and apart from the obvious signs of a hangover and her limp she seemed ok.

Although she did tend to suddenly look over her shoulder for no apparent reason.

Uncanny Tales – (004) – Chapter 03 – The Snow Angels – The Angels of Angels Farm

On Christmas Eve morning we woke up late, well late for us anyway, it was 9.30am when we stirred, and it was so quiet.
Angela snuggled up to me and I held her close.
“What time is it?” She asked sleepily
“Half past nine”
“Wow that’s late we’d better get on”
“It’s not that late” I said nuzzling her neck
“It’s too late for that” she said pushing me away.
“Go and put the kettle on”
“Ok” I said and got out of bed.
Angela got out the other side pulled on a T-shirt and went to the window.
I looked at her and wished we had stayed in bed, then she drew back the curtain.
“Snow!” she exclaimed and then Tigger was back bouncing all over the room squealing “Snow “ every time she left the floor.
I walked to the window and looked out on the scene, it had snowed heavily in the night and snow was still falling though more softly and everything was coated in five or six inches of snow.
“It just gets better and better” I mused
“Ok” I said as I turned from the window “What’s it to be, coffee in bed or play in the snow?”
“Play in the snow” Angel shouted and bounded across the room and launched herself at me wrapping her arms round my neck and knocking me backwards onto the bed.
She kissed me passionately on the mouth and asked
“Is there a third choice?”
So after we made love we got dressed in our play clothes and wrapped up against the cold and went out to play in the freshly fallen snow.

It was like being children again as we rushed around throwing snowballs and wrestling in the snow.
Where our newly turfed lawn used to be was a vast area of virgin white and we took turns making snow angels and then we built a snowman in the yard until we started to feel cold and wet and our bodies told us to act our age.
So we went inside and had hot showers and for lunch we had piping hot soup in front of a roaring fire.
After lunch Angela was pottering about in the kitchen washing up and such like and I dozed off in front of the fire.
I started to dream and in the dream I was woken by an icy blast of air from the patio door as it slid open and then a figure stepped through the door it was white and translucent and its outline was made of snow, it was one of the snow angels we had made on the lawn.
It walked towards me then stopped as it became aware of the heat from the fire, then it looked directly at me and spoke.
“You must help them, they need you”
“Who? Who must I help?”
“You must help your friends” then the snow angel turned and left the way it came.
Which was when I woke up.
“Well that wasn’t weird at all” I said out loud and gave a nervous laugh.
I stood up and walked towards the kitchen so I could tell Angela and then I felt something beneath my feet, I looked down and there was a patch of melted snow on the carpet.
“That’s odd” I said to myself.
It was odd as we hadn’t come into that room with our snowy shoes and it was the exact spot were the snow angel had been standing in my dream.
I moved again and as I reached the kitchen door I could see Angela standing motionless staring out of the window open mouthed.
I entered the room and walked up behind her and followed her gaze and on our snow covered lawn were a dozen snow angels all pointing in the same direction.
Then in an instant they were gone and Angela turned around and buried her face in my chest.
“Tell me you saw them as well, tell me I’m not going mad”
“I saw them too” I said reassuringly, then I proceeded to tell her about my dream.
But we didn’t really understand what they were trying to tell us. Who were we supposed to help? And what were the angels pointing at?
They seemed to be pointing at what used to be the old out buildings which were now a house, but why, we couldn’t fathom.
The only friends we had in common were Dave and Emma so it had to be them.
I phoned the landline and got the “out of service” tone.
Angela phoned Emma’s mobile - no answer so I phoned Dave’s and I got no answer as well.
“Well that settles it” I said
Angela agreed and if it wasn’t them who needed our help it would be great to see them anyway.
But just in case we were both completely barking mad we loaded their presents in the car.
As we drove past the snowman in the yard I was sure it had moved, it was now facing the opposite way and its stick arm was pointing at the empty house.
I turned to look at Emma she was looking at the snowman as well
“It’s moved hasn’t it? And look where it’s pointing” she said.

As we drove up the road to their house it was obvious something wasn’t quite right.
To begin with there were no Christmas lights, and then there was virtually no light in the house just a dull kind of flickering glow.

We parked the car quickly and hurried up the path and knocked on the door.
It took a while but then the door opened a few inches and a gaunt pale face peered through the crack with frightened tired eyes.
“Emma?” we both said at once, then the door swung open and Emma broke down and fell against me.
I scooped her up and carried her through to the lounge Angela followed me in and quickly shut the door to keep out the cold.
Once in the lounge we realized it was little warmer than the street.
There was a paraffin heater in the middle of the room and the only light came from candles.
I set Emma down on the sofa and she wrapped herself in the duvet that was laying there, two of the children were sitting on another sofa beneath another duvet reading books the youngest was asleep next to Emma..
Emma was a mere shadow of the confident self-assured woman I had last seen in August.
“What happened?” I asked and it all poured out of her.
She told us that Dave lost his job in September when they started a phased closure of the hospital and try as he might he couldn’t find anything else.
“At first I got a part time job, cash in hand you know, which helped a bit but then I fell off my bike and broke my arm and I couldn’t work”
“Why didn’t you call us?” Angela asked
“Dave wouldn’t let me” she sobbed
“What about Karen? Wouldn’t she help” I added,
“We had another falling out, we haven’t spoken since Easter”
Karen was her sister, they had never been close, but Emma had resolved to know her better.
“What about when we phoned you? Why didn’t you tell us then?”
“Dave was so ashamed that he couldn’t look after his family, he didn’t want anyone to know”
Emma went on to say that after that the bills just kept mounting up and then the phone was cut off, then the mobiles had to go and the electric was likely to be next.
“You should have called us then?” I said
“When it got so bad I didn’t know what to say”
I looked at Angela and I could tell we were sharing the same thought.
We had been so wrapped up in the farm we had forgotten our friends.
Emma continued.
“We owe three months’ rent, what will we do when the council evicts us?”
“It won’t come to that” I said and I looked again at Angela and she nodded agreement
In that moment the meaning of the angel’s message had become clear.
“No it won’t” Angela agreed
“Where is Dave now?” I asked
“He’s upstairs in bed” Emma sobbed heavily “he’s very ill but he won’t let me call a doctor, he hasn’t eaten for two days”
“Well he’s not going to get better if he stays here” I said “You can all come to stay with us for Christmas; we’ve got plenty of room”
I suddenly thought I may have overstepped the mark so I looked across at Angela, and she nodded her approval and smiled.
“Then after the holidays when the other house is finished, you can move in there until you’re all well and back on your feet” Angela added and it was my turn to nod approval.
That was what the angels meant I was sure of it.
Emma leapt off the sofa and hugged us both.
“We can sort things out with the council after Christmas so don’t worry” I assured her
“Now you go and pack some clothes and toys for the children” Angela ordered wiping away her own tears.
The logistics took a little thinking about it was obvious we couldn’t all get in our car and I was going to need help with Dave so I phoned Greg, he was coming to us for Christmas anyway, and between the two of us we transported everyone plus baggage and Molly’s cot.

Back at Angels Farm, Angela got everyone settled while Greg and I unloaded the cars.
As we took the last bags out of his boot I said.
“You do realize I’ve given your bed away to someone else?”
“No you’ve given it to someone who needs it more” He replied
“I’ll be all right I’ll sleep in the caravan”
Once we were all inside in the warm, Greg played with the children in front of the fire, Angela prepared some hot food and I called a doctor for Dave.

After everyone was settled in bed Angela and I were clearing up when we looked out the window and noticed it was snowing again, so I opened the kitchen door and stepped down onto the patio Angela stood on the step behind me and wrapped her arms round my neck and kissed my cheek.
“It’s going to be a white Christmas” she whispered in my ear.
Suddenly the floodlight came on and illuminated the whole patio and stood at the edge of the lawn was a Snow Angel with a gentle smile on its face.
“Did we do the right thing?” I asked it
The Angel nodded.
“And the house is for people who need help?”
The Angel nodded again.
“We will use it well” Angela added and with that the angel smiled again and then lay down upon the lawn and then the light flicked off.
The snow was falling fast now.
“All trace of them will be gone by morning” I said
“There will always be angels at the farm” Angela replied and kissed my cheek again, then we went back inside.

So for Angela and me it had been an amazing year, a life changing year, a year never to be forgotten, a year that began with love at first sight and ended with a miracle.
At first we chastened ourselves for being such poor friends, by being so self-absorbed in our own priorities that we forgot what was important.
But when we looked back over that eventful year we realized that we were merely adhering to a greater plan
Throughout the year we were being guided and steered towards our destiny by the angels.
They steered us towards St Lucy’s church in Brookley for our wedding and it was no coincidence that the farm went on the market the very day we began our search for a home.
Nor was it happenstance that a breakdown led me to take a diversion that took me past the farm so I would see the “for sale” sign and all those workmen being available just at the time we needed them.
Then finally in an area of the country that had not seen a significant fall of December snow for more than 50 years produces the snowfall on Christmas Eve in which we made the snow angels.
Though some might say we had been manipulated we chose to think we had been chosen and guided and we were happy to be so.
For the rest of our lifetimes we never saw the snow angels again but for all our days we were the angels of Angel’s Farm.

Uncanny Tales – (004) – Chapter 02 – The Snow Angels – Finding Angels Farm

The next day was one of reflection and I was left with a feeling of what might have been had I not dropped the ball.
How ironic it was that after all the young women Dave and Emma had put in my path over the years in the hope of finding me a wife, which I always managed to side step, I finally met a woman whom I didn’t want to swerve to avoid and the fates conspired against me.
I finally met a girl who was attractive, funny, intelligent, well spoken, had a sense of humour and good table manners (which was a definite plus) and who left me tongue tied like a lovesick schoolboy, someone who ticked all the boxes and quite simply bowled me over, and I blew it in the most humiliating manner.
It seemed like we had a number of things in common, we were both Christians, we both liked film and cinema, walking in the country to name but three and I was looking forward to finding out more about her and if there were any other boxes I could tick.
I couldn’t believe what a gibbering idiot I had been, I had been complimented in the past, more than once for my eloquence at such occasions and I had never been tongue tied before, well not since I was fifteen, and why oh why did I call her Angel and why did Dave have to blurt out my Christian name.
I didn’t even bother asking her out or getting her number there didn’t seem much point.
I did feel though that we had made a connection and that my overtures, for want of a better term, would not have been rejected out of hand.
I could still have gotten her number from Emma but how would I ever have been able to ask her out after she knew that my name was Gabriel?
So I resigned myself to the fact that due to some circumstances beyond my control and my total inability to string even the simplest of semi coherent sentences together she would be forever viewed as the one that got away.
So I turned my full attentions to work and started getting things ready for my return to harness the next day.
As I was ironing myself a shirt the phone rang, I ignored it, it was probably one of my mates, who having heard the revelation about my name were just phoning to take the piss.
It rang again, I ignored it again, I knew it wouldn’t take long for Colin to spread the word.
It rang a third time.
“I suppose I’d better get it over with” I said and headed towards the phone.
It rang again before I got to it and the answer phone kicked in, my first reaction was good now leave your poisonous message and then I can delete it without even hearing it, but curiosity got the better of me so I decided to listen to the message and braced myself.
“Hi, Oh dear I hope you don’t mind me ringing” Said a faltering voice “Erm, I got your number from Emma”
There was a pause then a nervous laugh.
“It’s Angel”
I quickly grabbed the phone and almost shouted “Hello”

If I had gone with my first instinct and deleted the message unheard she would never have called again I would still have thought of her as the one that got away and the remarkable year would simply not have happened.
Well thankfully I did and what a remarkably good decision it was.
The conversation began in a rather stumbling and embarrassed fashion, with lots of nervous laughter and hesitation but ended in a date.
It was decided that a meal would be best where we could relax and find out more about each other.
But where proved more difficult, we ruled out restaurants that used unusual eating utensils which excluded most oriental places and any French establishments serving escargot, the food had to be cooked which eliminated sushi, any food which the eater might end up wearing i.e. spaghetti, ribs etc. so we reached the conclusion that beer and pizza was probably the safest option.
The phone call lasted more than an hour and I was reluctant to end it but my bladder had the last word.
As it turned out this one carefully selected date proved to be the last difficult decision we had to make together.
The first date led to another and then another and another, we dined at all the establishments we excluded for our first date and ate all the foods previously mentioned.
Between New Years and Easter we were rarely apart and we did everything together, bowling, swimming, walking, you name it we did it and we could neither remember the time before we met nor craved time to ourselves.
We were obviously regular guests at the Parkers where Emma would gloat shamelessly at her matchmaking success.

In April I had to go to the States on business unexpectedly for two weeks and Angela wasn’t able to get any time off at such short notice so I went alone and although we spoke on the phone and emailed every day I missed her terribly.
When I returned to home on the last day of April she was waiting for me as I came through the gate and she ran to meet me and I took her in my arms,
“I missed you so much” Angela said
“I never want us to be apart again, Angel” I replied, then I knelt in front of her and proposed to her right there at the arrivals gate.

We were married in June at St Lucy’s Church in the village of Brookley, the rambling village was 15 miles inland from Sharpington-By-Sea, equidistant between the seaside resort and Pepperstock Green, and was where she used to spend the holidays when she was little, at the home of her maiden Great Aunt, Angela had often dreamed of marrying at St Lucy’s,
We were lucky to be able to book at such short notice, clearly the angels were looking out for us.
We particularly wanted to be married in church as we were both Christians, though we weren’t regular attendees at a particular Church, though we did become so at St Lucy’s.
Because he Great Aunt had passed away and there was no other connection to the village we had to get a special license.

Dave was my best man and Emma was matron of honour and their boys, Jake and Kenny were page boys.
It was a small affair just close friends and what family we had, my brother Greg and Angela’s parents, mine were both gone years before.
But it was a wonderful day, one that we would never forget, then to follow that perfect day came an ambition fulfilled and a dream come true, for both of us when we honeymooned in Italy travelling to Venice on the Orient Express.
After the honeymoon we moved into my flat, a short term arrangement while we found a house, Angela never did find a place of her own, and had been living at her parents up until the wedding, where most of her stuff remained.

There was an old run down farm with a derelict farm house that we often walked past on one of our many country walks and we had often wondered what it would be like to live there.
It was beautifully situated in a nice plot of land far enough into the country to be peaceful and close enough to the village to be part of a community, then one day I noticed it was up for sale, it was lucky really because I only drove past it because a bus had broken down on my usual route to work so I went cross country.
I called the agent, it had been empty for about ten years, when the owner, an elderly widow, moved into a home and with no next of kin to keep an eye on the property it fell into disuse.
Now upon the death of the old lady the farm was to be sold to settle her estate.
I arranged an appointment but I kept it secret from Angela and I just told her we had a viewing.
“So where are we going first?” Angel asked as we were about to leave.
“It’s over Brookley way” I said vaguely
She was sat in the car flicking through a pile of A4 sheets containing estate agents blurb.
“Where are the details then?” She quizzed “I can’t find it”
“I must have left it at work, but don’t worry the agent will have a copy”
We had quite a few places to look at some Angela had chosen and some of mine but the old farmhouse was first on the list.
As we drove down the lane towards the farm Angela asked.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s not far now it’s just down here I think”
And then we turned the corner and the entrance was on the left.
On the right hand side of the entrance there was a half rotten five bar gate leaning askew against a crumbling brick wall held in place by a solitary well rusted hinge and tied to the gate.
While on the left hand side was a once sturdy sign post leaning at a precarious angle adorned by a board bearing the name of the farm but it could not be read from that angle.
As I drove through the entrance into the yard Angela said
“It’s our farmhouse”
There was already a car in the yard which was unnecessarily flash and could only belong to an estate agent.
The door opened and a preening peacock of a man climbed out pausing briefly to brush away an invisible speck of dust off his sleeve.
I opened my door first to get out but by the time I climbed out Angela was already out fidgeting and transferring her weight from one foot to the other eager to get on.
The agent glanced briefly at the paper he was holding and enquired.
“Mr. Brophy?”
“Yes” I said and proffered my hand, which he inspected briefly then shook it limply in his clammy manicured hand.
“And this is my wife”
I waved my hand in the direction of where she had been standing but she had already bounded off like Tigger.

It took about an hour to view everything, the farmhouse, out buildings and the couple of acres of land.
The agent didn’t fancy leaving the confines of the yard presumably he didn’t want to get mud on his expensive Italian shoes.
So we explored the land by ourselves, we had both fallen instantly in love with the old ramshackle farm and by the time Angela and I had wandered back to the yard we had decided to make an offer on the place.
We both had good jobs, well paid jobs, and for a number of years earned more than we could spend and as a result both had substantial savings.
Plus Angela had sold her house the previous year and I only had a tiny mortgage on my flat so we worked out that we could easily afford to buy the farm, renovate the farmhouse for ourselves and convert the out buildings into another property which we could earn a little income on, either as a summer let or as a normal rental, provided of course we could get it for under the asking price.
It would be a gamble and after years of playing safe and being sensible it wasn’t an easy one to make but because neither of us had seriously invested ourselves in a long term relationship before we went for it with gay abandon, so we made our offer to the agent.
“That may not be good enough there are other people interested” He said looking down his nose.
“In fact I have another viewing this afternoon”
“Well actually that appointment is with me” Angela said sheepishly.

As we drove out of the yard I stopped just inside the gate when something caught my eye.
“Look at that” I said pointing out the window, from that angle I could clearly see the signboard that bore the name of the farm.
It read “Angels Farm”
“Well now we know it’s definitely meant to be”

So our offer was accepted, it had taken one day to find the house of our dreams but it was to be several months before we could move in properly.
The first thing we did after we sold the flat was to buy a second hand caravan that we parked in the farmyard which would be our home until the house was finished, as we had decided we didn’t want to move in until absolutely everything was done although that would very much depend on the severity of the winter.
All of our furniture and worldly goods were put in the barn which we were using for storage.
Now as an accountant and a software engineer, Angela and I were of very little use in regard to the major work that was required, but as project managers we were second to none.
We were very lucky securing the professional help we needed, so many of them were between jobs or had another job that had fallen through and were unexpectedly available.
We employed a constant stream of them, builders, roofers, plumbers, plasterers, electricians, telecoms engineers and tree surgeons, and apart from our talents for project management we were also excellent tea and coffee makers.
On the practical side we were gainfully employed with clearing rubbish and shrubbery from the site and filling skips with anything and everything.
To all intents and purposes we dropped out of sight for the duration of the project and spent every available minute we had working on the farm.
Although we did make great use of baby brother Greg on several occasions, we were quite selfish and single minded really, but we were even handed about it and we ignored friends and family alike, and we did feel guilty about it but if we could get everything done by Christmas we would be able to see whoever we liked whenever we liked.
Angela did touch base briefly with her parents by phone and we spoke occasionally to Dave and Emma, but we didn’t see them after August.
Throughout October, we made great progress whipping a large section of the acreage into something resembling a garden and in November our hard work was rewarded when the turf was laid.
By the end of November we were able to get into the farmhouse and start decorating while the professionals made progress on the outbuilding conversion.
As we completed each room the carpets were laid and then we moved the furniture in room by room, and we worked our way through the house and we were counting the days to when we could abandon the caravan forever.
We had both accrued quite a lot of holidays and lieu time over the last few years so we decided to use them up for the final push which meant we only worked about five days in December.
Then on the twentieth of December with great ceremony (A recording of a fanfare and a bottle of Cava) we took up residence in our dream home.
The next morning when we awoke for the first time in our own bedroom it was with a certain smug satisfaction, after all we had achieved our target with four days to spare and a few pounds left in the budget, it was going to be the best Christmas ever.
“CHRISTMAS!” Angela shouted and sat bolt upright.
“What?” I said as she leapt out of bed
“CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS” she was shouting, and running around like a headless chicken trying to dress and run at the same time and she fell over twice.
I just looked on in amusement as she flitted from bedroom to bathroom in various stages of undress.
Then she stood in the bathroom door and said.
“We don’t have anything for Christmas, no decorations, no tree, no cards, no food, no presents, no crackers, no drink we have nothing for Christmas.”
Then the penny dropped and wiped the smile off my face, we had been so focused on getting in the house by Christmas we had forgotten about Christmas itself.
“OH GOD!” I shouted and then joined in the headless chicken dance.

So for the next three days we did battle at the mall amidst the throngs of Christmas shoppers and took part in the supermarket trolley dash filling the trolleys with enough food to feed a small army, then we wrote endless cards, wrapped the numerous presents, decked the halls and trimmed the tree.
So by the time darkness fell on the third day everything was done and presents stood in neat piles ready to be delivered the next day.
I opened a bottle of wine and we sat on the sofa beside the glowing fireplace and I put my arm around her and asked.
“Can we be smug now?”
“Oh yes I think we most certainly can” she replied smiling then she turned her head and kissed me.

Uncanny Tales – (004) – Chapter 01 – The Snow Angels – When Angels Meet

It had been an amazing year, a life changing year, a year never to be forgotten, a year that began with love at first sight and ended with a miracle, and it all began of course, as all years do on New Year’s Day.
Now you might think that very little occurs, let alone starts, on New Year’s Day, as everyone is either nursing a hangover or is just too tired to even contemplate participation in anything new, or very much at all, and that may well be true for some, but not for everyone.
For me New Years Day is no different to any other day of the year, after all isn’t every day the first day of another twelve months?
You might deduce from this that if I have such disdain for the first day of the year, that my feeling for the last day of the old year might be like wise, and you would be right.
I am and always have been a Christmas person and I love every aspect of the season but New Year’s Eve has always left me cold.
In fact I dislike everything about it, I hate the crowded pubs, the noisy house parties, “Old Lang Syne”, first footing and of course the bloody fireworks.
So I always spent the evening with likeminded people, namely my younger brother Greg, eating Chinese takeaway and watching DVDS.
We would prefer to go out to eat but to go anywhere decent you have to book at Easter.
On the other hand my friends Dave and his wife Emma loved New Year’s Eve but they didn’t celebrate it for quite different reasons.
Dave worked shifts as a porter at The Royal Downshire Hospital, he’d been there since he left school, which was nearly fifteen years, it didn’t pay well but he really loved it.
As a family man he always managed to trade shifts so he had Christmas off but subsequently he always had to work New Year’s Eve.
Emma was a housewife or homemaker or domestic goddess or whatever the PC speak is, she had worked at the hospital as well until she fell pregnant with their first child now they had three children all under 5 years old, so she never had time off.

So with all those in mind who do not participate in the Old Year’s Night rituals, either by design, as in my case, or by circumstance as with Dave and Emma we set the scene for the tale and so with all that said we get back to the beginning of the story, the start of that amazing year.
It was New Year’s Day and I was invited to spend the evening with my good friends the Parkers for one of Emma’s wonderful dinners, a culinary experience for which I would have gladly paid a king’s ransom but for which the only charge to me was my attendance.
Well as the saying goes “there’s no such thing as a free lunch” and that goes for dinner as well.
I was a bachelor and happy to be so, I was comfortable in my own company, I liked my life, I could do what I wanted when I wanted and I had a good job which paid well and allowed me to indulge myself if I wanted to.
This for Dave and Emma was an alien concept, they were a couple and were happy, ergo I was single and therefore must be unhappy.
So every time they had a dinner party, a picnic or BBQ there was always some poor unfortunate unattached female guest who was propelled towards me.
Even at their wedding they tried to pair me up with the matron of honors younger sister.
They were relentless and never gave up but it was always to no avail.
It wasn’t because they were horrible or unattractive young women, in fact they were normally very nice, it was just that they were just not for me, and we didn’t connect.
So the price for a very excellent dinner was to be aimed at yet another single/unattached/divorced woman.
Still it was a price worth paying for a very exceptional meal with good company.

I arrived late afternoon so I could spend some time with the kids before they went off to bed it was sufficiently dark for the Christmas lights to be on and Dave did like a good Christmas light.
His house was in no way as gaudy as many were but he did like his lights.
I was greeted at the door by a very bleary eyed Dave who had clearly just risen from his pit.
“Oh dear” I said as I looked at his sleep filled eyes and the unmistakable bed head
“Night shift?”
“Yeh” he replied then yawned.
I had known Dave from infant school and we had been best friends for most of the years since, I had been best man at his wedding and am Godfather to his first born.
He turned away sleepily and I followed him into the kitchen where I was greeted by Emma, who standing on her tip toes drew herself up to all of five feet four, hugged me and kissed my cheek and I breathed in her scent, a mixture of heady musk and baby sick.
Noticing the bemused look on my face she pointed to the milky stain on her top and laughed.
I hadn’t known Emma as long as Dave, just over 10 years but we became friends instantly, she was one of that rare breed of humans who are just impossible to dislike and you feel instantly at ease with.
“Happy New Year” she said still chuckling
“Ditto” I replied
“You won’t even say the words” She said incredulously.
“I can’t believe you dislike New Year that much”
She left the room laughing, and while all this was going on Dave had boiled the kettle and made drinks.
He put a steaming mug of instant coffee on the kitchen table and I sat down on the chair nearest to it.
“What are you doing here so early anyway?” Dave asked.
“I thought I could help out by entertaining the ankle biters while you two got yourselves ready”
“That’s very sweet of you Bernie” Emma said as she came back into the kitchen and sat down next to me.
“But Jake and Kenny are at Karen’s until tomorrow and Molly is asleep”
Jake was my Godson and was almost five, Kenny was three and Molly was barely six months.
“Your sister Karen?”
Emma nodded.
“I thought you didn’t get on with her”.
“I don’t” she replied
“But I made a New Year’s resolution to get closer to her” she said without enthusiasm.
”She’s the only family I have so I thought I should make an effort”
I was going to ask Dave if he had made a similar resolution but I thought better of it, I knew there was too much bad blood there.
“Well as my entertainment skills are not required I will ….”
I was about to suggest that I would finish my coffee and come back later when Emma interrupted me.
“I can use you in other ways”
“Oh” I said and raised my eyebrows slightly as I considered the eroticism of the image in my mind of my best friends wife naked and smelling of baby sick “using me” when she placed a potato peeler in front of me.
“Ah”

The next three hours passed by in the same way that so many of the hours we had spent together had, good old fashioned fun I could imagine nothing better than spending time in their glorious company.
As I said I liked my life.

By seven thirty everything was done that could be done, Dave and Emma had made themselves presentable, though in truth Emma scrubbed up better than Dave.
So I took my self-off upstairs to change into a clean shirt which I swiped from Dave’s wardrobe, and just as I was coming down stairs the doorbell rang.
Dave headed for the door and I ducked into the lounge as I didn’t want to be hovering in the hall when the desperate single woman arrived, in case I gave her the impression I was keen to meet her, although I confess I was curious to see what the latest offering in a long line of potential life partners looked like, but not curious enough to hover in the hallway.

As it turned out the doorbell was rung by Colin, who worked with Dave at the hospital and his wife Clair, who was a nurse, I knew them very well and they were good company.
There were to be six for dinner Dave and Emma, Colin and Clair and myself and the mystery woman.
The new arrivals soon joined me in the lounge and the volume rose as the banter began with barbed jibes mainly aimed at me.
Colin went through a whole tirade of remarks questioning my manhood and my sexuality.
“What’s the matter Bernie couldn’t they scrape up a date for you this time?” Colin inquired.
“Perhaps you should try something in the inflatable line, the conversations not up to much and they always have the same expression on their face, but they never judge”
Thankfully the doorbell went again.
“Saved by the bell” Emma said as she went towards the door, this didn’t knock Colin off his stride for a second as he continued to elaborate on the advantages of having an inflatable girlfriend which he continued to do until Emma led a very attractive brunette into the room.
Colin stopped mid-sentence with his mouth open which he only closed after Clair had inserted her elbow into his rib cage.
“Everybody this is Angela” Emma said.
“Dave you know already, the one with his mouth open is Colin and his long suffering wife Clair”
Then she turned to me “and this is Bernie”
I would be hard pressed to put a figure on the number of attractive young women Emma had steered in my direction over the years, and in many ways Angela was just another in a very long line but there was something else to her which I couldn’t put my finger on.
Maybe it was the way she held herself and how she was un-phased by the realization that she was making up the numbers.
Sometimes when Emma has introduced me you see the shoulders slump in disappointment or you see excitement on the faces of the keen ones that give them the look of kittens on speed.
Angela was poised and confident and…
“Hi” I said and offered my hand which she took.
We obviously held hands for longer than we should have and as soon as we realized we let go and she laughed nervously and I felt myself blush.
“Where do you know Emma from?” I asked trying to regain my composure while being painfully aware that no one else in the room was speaking.
“We were at school together” She said
“And then after University I moved away and we lost touch”
“And now?” I asked suddenly aware the question made no sense, I was normally much more coherent than that.
“And now what?”
“I think he means where are you living now” Said Emma coming to my rescue.
“Oh I see yes, well I moved back to Downshire in November, I’m living with my parents at the moment until I find somewhere I like”
I became aware of a low murmur in the background so I relaxed in the knowledge I was no longer being watched.
“And how did you two get back in touch?”
Emma laughed and Angela said.
“It was here in Purplemere in Stephenson’s and I inadvertently walked off with Emma’s trolley when …”
“I was about to draw it to her attention by throwing a tin of baked beans at her” Interrupted Emma
“But I turned round just in time”
They were both laughing now and soon Angela’s soft infectious giggle had circled the room until we were all laughing.
That kind of set the tone for the rest of the evening as we enjoyed Emma’s wondrous culinary offerings
Each course was punctuated with a mixture of rehashed old anecdotes and previously unheard tales regaled to us by Emma and Angela, and all through the evening my eyes were drawn to Angela almost to the point of staring and once or twice Emma noticed my interest and I quickly glanced away and the she and Dave exchanged a knowing look.
It was when we reached the liqueur stage of the evening when we were all slightly the worse for drink and all guilty of over imbibing that I finally let myself down.
As a veteran guest of the Parkers it always fell to me to raise a toast which I gladly did.
“Please raise your glasses to the hostess with the mostest, Emma and yet another outstanding feast, Emma”
This was greeted with a chorus of “Hear, Hear” and much table tapping.
“And to the man whose mastery of the bottle opener is second to none, Dave”
More cheers and more table tapping.
“And last but by no means least old friends”
And that is where I should have left it but no.
“And new friends” and raising my glass and looking straight at her I said “Angel”
There was a moment of utter silence and then everybody just cracked up, and Dave laughed so much he fell off his chair which only managed to fuel the flames, I just turned crimson and slumped into my chair.
Angela smiled at me though the tears rolling down her cheeks, so I thought maybe I hadn’t ruined my chances.
Colin stood up and did a very credible impression of me saying
“We have an angel in our midst” which isn’t easy to say even when your sober.
Then Dave clambered back into his chair and exclaimed
“It’s better than that I’ve just realized we have two angels present”
“What are you on about” Said Emma and I had a bad feeling about what was coming next so I interceded
“Just ignore him he’s pissed”
But Dave was not to be deterred.
“We have the beautiful young angel Angela, and we have the angel Gabriel”
“What are you talking about?” quizzed Emma
He resorted to pointing to get his meaning over, firstly he pointed at Angela and said slowly.
“Angel”
Then he pointed at me
“Gabriel”
“What?” Emma asked again with a very puzzled expression so he pointed at me again and said
“GABRIEL Bernard Brophy”
Finally the penny dropped and everybody fell about.
Except me I just leant forward and started banging my head on the table.
I sat up and looked at Dave.
“Over Twenty five years you’ve kept that secret and you chose tonight to give it up”
“It’s alright you’re among friends” Emma said and then broke down again.
“It won’t stay among friends though, not now loose lips knows” I said gesturing in Colin’s direction. “It will be all round the hospital tomorrow”
“Oh now that’s not fair” said Emma
“No it is” Said Colin
“No it won’t be all over the hospital tomorrow” Added Dave reassuringly.
“He’s off until Thursday”