When Mystery And History Mingle

By Joan B. Pritchard

These stories will feed your imagination, as well as your knowledge of some historical facts. There are 7 individual stories, which will take you to witches, ghosts, figures from the war years. Some stories are about innocents, who face unexpected counterparts and meet their ends in the most unexpected places:- there's an elderly aunt who f

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joan B Pritchard
• Release date: Mar 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9781915889645

Joan B. Pritchard

I am a retired woman who has worked professionally in various executive positions. I have been very busy all my life, having to learn expertise in many different specialisations and also raising a family. It is only now, without my dear partner, that I have turned to the challenge of putting pen to paper and allowing my imagination and thoughts to wander free.

Book preview

When Mystery And History Mingle

By

Joan B Pritchard

Copyright © 2023 Joan B Pritchard

ISBN: 9781915889645

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored, in any form or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

My Great Aunt Alice –

The Eccentric

MURDER IS ALL AROUND US

FROM RAGS TO RICHES

A BAD CENTURY IF EVER THERE WAS ONE

CHARLES 1st – THE ARROGANT ONE

CHARLES 2nd – THE CHARMING BUT TWO-FACED ONE

JAMES – THE NAÏVE ONE

WILLIAM 3rd AND MARY 2nd

It’s Quite Possible to Kill a Man Twice

How Great was Alfred the Great?

My Great Aunt Alice –

The Eccentric

Alice dear, I’ve just got this letter – your God Mother Alice is coming to visit – isn’t that nice? Meryl folded the letter and turned her attention to making the pancakes for breakfast.

Her daughter asked, When is she coming?  I hope it’s after my exams – she takes up so much of my time with her endless story telling.  And she knows if you’re not listening.

Don’t be so mean Alice, she’s an old lady and she likes our company -she’s my aunt and your God-mother and I love her, so you’ll have to treat her as best you can – or I’ll want to know the reason why.  She plonked down a fresh pancake and pushed the honey towards the girl, who looked rather embarrassed now.

Josh, get yourself down here pronto - you’re going to be late for school.  She called upstairs for the second time that morning and her son exploded into the kitchen, hair uncombed and tie under one ear.

Tidy yourself up – you can’t leave the house looking like that.  His pancakes were ready too and he made to grab them to eat on his way to school.

Oh no you don’t young man – sit yourself down at the table, eat and then you can go.

Every morning was the same in the Henderson household with Meryl trying to feed her children, who were usually half-way out the door before eating breakfast and reminding them to take the lunch boxes she’d prepared for them.  She always had to follow them outside, carrying the lunches.

Her husband Tom, had already left for work, which was a good thing or else she’d have a third child to get out the house on time.

The house was suddenly quiet and she sat down at the kitchen table for the best cup of coffee of the day.  She switched on the radio and leaned back in the chair – those ten minutes were invaluable for her peace of mind.

The doorbell rang shrilly and disturbed her precious few minutes.  She jumped at the sound and stood up, Now, who can that be – and at this time of the morning?

There, on the doorstep stood Aunt Alice, dressed as usual in her raggedy fur jacket and cloche hat.  She could so easily have stepped out of a scene from a ‘Thirties’ movie – and her giant carpet bag, instead of a handbag, completed the picture.

"Aunt Alice, I wasn’t expecting you today – mind you, I wasn’t sure when you’d be coming.  Come on in, I’ve just boiled the kettle.  The elderly woman stepped over the door step, leaving her small suitcase outside.  Meryl reached down and brought it inside.

In the kitchen, she made herself comfortable at the table and Meryl asked her, Do you know you’re still wearing your slippers Aunt Alice?  Have you come all the way from your village like that?

Alice looked down at her feet, but didn’t answer the question, I should greatly love some hot buttered toast Meryl?  Is that possible?  And where is Tom and the children?

On being told they were at work and school, Alice sniffed and said, Really, they might have waited to welcome me before they left.

They can’t do that Dear – they’ve got to stick to strict deadlines – and anyway, we didn’t know when you were planning to visit.  She placed the coffee on the table and put the bread in the toaster.  Aunt Alice hadn’t changed at all – she was just as forgetful as ever and didn’t appreciate her letter had just arrived that morning - and here she was, hot on its heels and allowing Meryl no time to prepare for her visit.

Alice lived in a village similar to the one her niece lived in but it was fifty miles away, so she only came to visit now and again – and when she felt like it.  She’d been coming since the children were small and young Alice was right about her story telling – she just loved an audience and tended to take a long time to reach the end of a tale.  The children were usually good about it and listened patiently.  Sometimes however, they couldn’t conceal their impatience for her to reach the point of a story and they suddenly remembered something they had to do – urgently.

Meryl left her Aunt sitting by the fire in the small sitting room and she plied her with several books which she thought to be of her taste.  It suited the old lady as she liked the cottage which used to be the village Smithy until it was converted into a comfortable home.  In fact, she recalled when it was still a working Smithy – remembering it as part of her young life.  She’d actually been born in this village and lived here for a few years until her parents moved away to another village quite a distance to the south.  Well, in those days it seemed like a distance – but today, fifty miles wasn’t considered much of a distance at all. 

Alice felt sleepy after her buttered toast, her eyes began to droop and soon she drifted quietly into oblivion.  The heat from the log fire added to her sleepiness and she felt how lucky she was to be here at the Smithy’s playing with Gertie, her friend.  The two girls were the same age – seven years old – and had met each other at the village school.  It was holiday time and the girls didn’t have to go to school – so they were having tea with their family of dolls, in front of the very same fire Alice was enjoying in the present time.

Stop doing that Alice, Gertie reprimanded her friend, You mustn’t force crumbs into a doll’s mouth – she might choke.  But Alice was intent on feeding all the dolls, by hook or by crook.

They’ll all starve if we don’t feed them, Gertie – don’t be silly.  Do you want our little family to die?  ‘Cause that’s what’ll happen if we don’t feed them.  Alice shoved more cake into the doll’s mouth. 

Tell you what Gertie, let’s ask our mummies if we can take our best little babies for a walk in their prams, shall we?  And the girls ran into the kitchen where the respective mothers were having coffee and a chat.

I think it’s too cold, Alice, I don’t think it’s a good idea, do you? And she turned to her friend, hoping she’d agree.

Oh, let’s allow them to go – it’s cold but healthy and we can wrap them up warmly. But only to the pond and no further, is that clear Gertie?"

Oh yes Mummy, we’ll not go further than that – and we’ll wrap up warm, honest.  And the girls did just that – coats, scarves, hats and woollen mittens were donned, and the chosen ‘best babies’ were also wrapped up warmly, with extra blankets in their prams.

Come on Gertie, let’s go. And the two little girls pushed their prams proudly down the village high street.

Alice could remember how good it felt, walking down that street.  She felt quite grown up and pulled the blankets closer around her babies.  She’d decided to bring two, in case one got lonely.  Gertie, on the other hand, had brought three, all tucked tightly in their pram.  Two little mothers out for a walk with their babies – it felt good.

Have you brought the bread for the ducks, Gertie – the little bag your mummy gave you?  And Gertie produced the small paper bag, nodding her head.  There weren’t any other people around as it was too cold and the girls walked on their own, towards the village pond.  There were several trees and shrubs to one side of the pond and they knew they weren’t supposed to go that way, but because she felt so grown up, Alice suggested they did just that.  It made it feel more like an adventure.

The sky was overcast but it wasn’t dark – just grey and damp.  I’m cold Alice, can we go home now?  We’ve come far enough – let’s throw the bread to the ducks now – our mummies will worry if we stay longer.  Gertie was more timid than her friend and she was genuinely cold.

Okay, we’ll do that – but give the ducks the bread first – they’re bound to be hungry.  No, not from there – you’ll have to go closer so they can reach it.  And she gently pushed her friend a little closer to the edge of the pond.  The dead leaves from the many trees were piled up around the pond edge, and were slippery underfoot.  Gertie moved too close to the water and started to slip down the bank.

Help me Alice, I’m falling in. Gertie was alarmed and lost her footing, she plonked down on her bottom amongst the muddy leaves.  She started to slip forward and tried to grab hold of the bank but everything was just too slippery.  She was suddenly in the pond itself and the ducks were crowding around her, making a great deal of noise.

Come on Gertie – stop messing about.  You’re all wet – and muddy. Now Alice wanted to go home – it wasn’t fun anymore.  Give me your hand and I’ll pull you out.

Gertie reached up but Alice couldn’t reach her and the effort made the child slide even deeper into the water.  Now, her boots were stuck in the mud and were filling up with dirty pond water.  She was completely in the pond now – right up to her waist.  She struggled and desperately tried to turn around, but it was no use, the more she tried, the deeper she sank.

I’m going to get your mummy, Gertie – she’ll be able to pull you out.  I’ll take both prams with me, or the babies will die of cold.  She pushed one pram and pulled the other behind her.  Gertie was crying now and even the arms of her coat were dripping with water.  The little girl was distraught and terrified and began to scream – but there was no-one around to hear.  The cold had kept everyone inside by their fires.

Alice was back on the street and pushing and pulling as best she could, but progress was slow and she was delighted when she saw both mothers coming along the street towards her.  They were coming to look for their daughters. 

    She did it all by herself – she wanted to feed the ducks and she did it all by herself.  Alice knew she was going to get into trouble – she wasn’t sure why – but she knew she’d be blamed for something.

They left the prams in the street and rushed to the pond where there was no sign of Gertie.  There was however, a little woollen hat floating on the surface near the edge of the pond – but no sign of anything else.  Her mother screamed and started to call her daughter. Gertie, where are you luv’ – stop hiding from mum, you’re scaring me. She looked at Alice and shouted, "Where is she, Alice?  Where has she gone?

The whole scene was horrific and for a moment the three figures seemed frozen in time.  Alice’s mum grabbed hold of her, saying, What happened Alice?  You’ve got to tell us where Gertie is?  Has she gone somewhere else?  But Alice just stared at her.  She didn’t know where her friend had gone.  She’d been standing in the pond when she last saw her – and now she was gone.

I don’t know where Gertie is, Mummy - she’d gone into the water to feed the ducks.  I told her not to do it – it was dangerous, but she insisted.  Alice was sure everything had happened as she described it, but a small part of her knew she’d encouraged Gertie to go too far into the pond.

Everything changed then and two men who’d been walking their dogs joined them.  They used long sticks and branches they broke from the trees – but they couldn’t find Gertie in the water.  Alice heard the words, ‘Quick Sand’ but didn’t know what it meant – until she was much older.

She certainly knew now however, and the disturbing memory made her stir in the chair, as she woke up from her dream.  She remembered Gertie very well - she’d been her first real friend, but she’d drowned in the village pond and that was that. 

She sat up and realised it had become dark.  It must have been late afternoon – she wondered where Meryl was.  She’d said she wouldn’t be long.  And where were the children and Tom?

She was quite alone by the dying fire and then she saw something from the corner of her eye.  it was Gertie – little seven-year-old Gertie was sitting in front of the fire.  ‘Well, Alice thought, this was her home once so I suppose it’s right she should be here.’  Gertie had a sad expression on her face as she looked at her old school friend.  Gertie had never grown up as Alice had, but she told herself again, and for the hundredth time, ‘It was an accident and had nothing to do with her.’  The old school friend disappeared as Alice reached for a log from the basket and threw it on the fire.  Had the girl ever really been there or was it Alice’s guilt raising its unwelcome head again – even after all these years? 

Gratefully, she heard a key turning in the lock of the front door and breathed a sigh of relief.  Gertie had completely disappeared now.    Meryl came into the sitting room, Sorry to have taken so long Aunt Alice – I met some friends and had a chat.  You don’t mind, do you? And she bustled about the room, drawing the curtains and switching on a couple of lamps.  You don’t have to sit in the dark, you know – you’re allowed to put on the lights.  She was laughing at the startled expression on her aunt’s face, unaware of the experience the old woman had just had.  Have you been asleep and I woke you up?  Sorry!  And she left the room to start dinner.  Alice still hadn’t said anything – she was still in shock.

Tom and the children arrived almost at the same time and all came in to greet Aunt Alice.  Nice to see you, dear. Tom said, and he meant it.  He always enjoyed her stories and looked forward to being told about the old days in the village.  Josh and Alice were less keen but kissed her on the cheek and said they were pleased to see her.

The whole family had dinner together and Aunt Alice enjoyed the happy, family atmosphere in the room.  It was amazing but she actually felt sleepy again – it must have been the food.  It always had that effect on her and she was after all, quite an old lady.

Why don’t you take your coffee into the sitting room, Aunt Alice – and we’ll follow you once we’ve tidied up and done the dishes. Tom was always solicitous of her welfare and she liked him for that.  She knew Alice and Josh were not so enamoured of her company but she was old enough to ignore that and so, she disappeared coffee in hand, into the sitting room and sat down by the fire.  The huge log had caught on now and was blazing up the chimney.

Usually, Josh and Alice would go up to their rooms after dinner and either, play on their lap-tops or do their homework, but they weren’t allowed to do that this evening, as it was Great Aunt Alice’s first night with them.  They followed their parents out of the kitchen and all sat around the room – Josh on the floor, which was his usual place.

Can we have the telly on?  He said, knowing what the answer would be.

Maybe later, Tom, when we’ve had a chance to talk.  We haven’t seen Aunt Alice for some months now and I’d like to hear what she’s been up to.  Tom always said the right thing – and Meryl smiled at him in gratitude.

Out of the blue, Aunt Alice asked, Is that little cottage on the edge of the village still standing?  It must be very old, I should think.  She sipped her coffee and waited for someone to reply.

Which cottage is that Aunt Alice?  Meryl asked and was given a vivid description of the cottage in question.

Yes, it’s still there – an old chap lives there by himself.  I’m not sure how old it is, but I’m sure he’s had some renovation work done on it.  Why do you ask, Dear?

I remember it, that’s why – and I remember who lived in it.  Now I come to think about it, it was a very old woman then.  Mind you, she was strange and everyone in the village thought she was a witch.  She used to claim her cottage was haunted and by more than one ghost – although no-one else ever saw any of the ghosts.  When the village children met her in the street, they would scream and run away, shouting, Witch!  Witch!  The Witch is coming.  And that used to clear the street, I can tell you. We were rather cruel then, now I come to think about it.

Josh and Alice exchanged glances – they could feel one of her stories coming on.  Alice spoke first, Mother, do you think Josh and I could go upstairs – we both have homework to do?

Meryl was annoyed, but hid it, If you must. She said and waited for Aunt Alice to continue with her story.  She asked, Tell us more about the witch?  She wasn’t a witch at all, was she?

She most certainly was, my dear – she most certainly was.  Aunt Alice was just getting into the swing of her story. Mind you, part of it was her own fault – she dressed in a long, black cloak with a shawl over her head.  She didn’t actually wear a witch’s pointed hat, but she may as well have done.

Practical Tom asked, And did you think she was a witch?  Or did you just believe it because everyone else did?

Oh no Tom – I believed it, as I knew she was a witch.  I’d seen her at night moving about the village, peering in people’s windows.  Alice was quite indignant, thinking Tom was doubting her word.

That doesn’t mean she was a witch though – just a nosey old woman, perhaps.  He had to smile at people’s incredulity. When was that – was it a long time ago?

She thought for a few moments and said, It was more than sixty years ago.  I still lived in this village at the time so I knew everybody and everything.  I was a teenager then, just before my parents moved to Haston Village, where my father had got himself a job as a gardener at the big house there.  Of course, I didn’t want to go, but I had no option.  Anyway, to get back to the witch – I knew she was a witch – I saw her flying over the village one night.  She didn’t use a broomstick – she just flew, with her cloak billowing behind.

Or did you perhaps see an owl or a bat, and decide it must have been a witch?  Tom interrupted again but fell silent at a look from Meryl, who narrowed her eyes to warn him to stop poking fun at the old lady.

It was no owl or bat – it was a human figure, flying from one house to another – and stopping now and again for goodness only knows what reason.  Next morning, the local farmer had lost two sheep from a closed off pen – and no-one could understand how it could have happened.  She nodded her head and looked smug, as though that was the proof of what she’d seen.  Other people saw her flying in the dark and always the next morning, an animal was missing, even someone’s pet dog one time.

And what do you think happened to all the animals, Aunt Alice? Meryl couldn’t resist asking the obvious question.

Why she ate them!  What do you think she did with them?  In fact, she shared them with her cronies from other places – and they shared their prizes with her.  There was a coven of witches in this area in those days and they used to meet in the crypt by the old church in the village.  They were often seen going in there for their feasts– but never spotted coming out.  She cleared her throat and licked her lips, I’m feeling thirsty Meryl – it must be all this talking. Perhaps a small glass of Sherry would help?

Tom jumped up and poured out three glassfuls – he very generously filled them to the brim.  Here you are Aunt Alice, this’ll wet your whistle.

Don’t be so vulgar Tom – wet your whistle, indeed!  As you know, I rarely drink alcohol, but will make an exception on this occasion."  She straightened her back and delicately sipped her drink.  She liked to think she was a grand Victorian lady, although she wasn’t nearly old enough for that – but the idea appealed to her.

About the witch – what else did she do and what happened to her in the end?  Despite himself, Tom was intrigued.

Well, the villagers wanted to burn her alive at the stake, but of course, that was out of the question.  We weren’t barbarians after all – we were just simple villagers who didn’t like having a witch’s coven in their church crypt.  Tell me Tom, what would you do if the same thing was happening in the village today.  How would you go about dealing with the problem?

She knew he wouldn’t have an answer – in fact, there wasn’t one really, so she went on, One man decided he would do something and he went to her cottage – knocked loudly and when she opened the door, he told her in no uncertain terms that she was to leave the village.  The people in the village didn’t want her there – they were afraid for their children.  Apparently, she shrieked at him to get away from her door and leave her alone – but he stood his ground and demanded that she leave. Suddenly, she wasn’t angry anymore and became all sweet and nice, telling him Yes, I will leave this village if that’s what you want – there’s plenty other places I could live. Off you go home now and tell the people you’ve been successful in chasing me away."

The man turned and started to cross the road to his side of the village.  Her cottage had been built right on the roadside – it was one of those houses where, in the middle ages, if a man built four walls on a piece of common ground, and lit a fire inside the walls, he could claim the land as his own – and it would belong to him forever.  It was called an encroachment and was quite common in rural areas.  Anyway, as the man walked away from her cottage, she mumbled some words he didn’t understand – and turned him to stone.  She actually turned him to stone, right where he stood." 

She looked at the two astounded faces opposite and smiled, Now you both know exactly where that is.  The large stone at the entrance to the village is shaped just like a man, isn’t it?  It’s not a pre-historic stone, as some people claim, it’s the work of the witch.  Well, that’s what happened to anyone who challenged the old woman – and who could blame her? No-one knocked on her door again, accusing her of being a witch.  I don’t know how long she lived there for – but I’m willing to bet it was a long time.

And what happened to the church crypt where the coven used to meet?  Meryl asked incredulously.

  Nothing!  Nothing happened to it.  The witches went on meeting there until one by one, they all disappeared.  I suppose their time on earth was over – and no-one in the village ever dared to approach their own witch again.  Not now they knew what happened to anyone who did.  She paused and pulled her woollen shawl closer around her shoulders, Tom, you’re shirking in your duties – the fire needs another log – and you Meryl, perhaps you could get me another sip of Sherry - to keep my throat oiled, you understand. You’ve quite tired me out, making me talk so much.

    She was a clever old bird, she really was. and both Tom and Meryl went to bed that night with their heads full of witches, crypts and covens.  Great Aunt Alice, on the other hand, slept like a baby – being so unused to alcohol as she was!    Once asleep she slept well, but just as she was about to switch off the bedside light, she spotted Gertie sitting in the corner of the room.  She just closed her eyes however – she knew Gertie couldn’t hurt her now and as she’d decided earlier, the child had every right to be here – it had once been her home.

Next morning early, before anyone else was awake, Meryl took the dog for a walk.  She headed for the road out of the village, but if forced to tell the truth, she’d have to admit she went that way to have another look at the huge stone that stood there.  As she stared at it, the dog made to ‘lift its leg’ against it, but for some reason, she pulled it away – it just didn’t seem right now that she knew the stone’s history. 

The cottage that had once been an encroachment. stood only a few yards away and she found she was looking at it differently this time.  There was smoke coming from the chimney, so someone was up and about.  A tall thin man came to the window and looked out.  She could do nothing else but smile and raise her hand in recognition, something she’d never done before. He seemed more real to her now, and she found she wanted to talk to him, but it was so early in the day, it didn’t seem right.  He beckoned her over however, and before she realised what she was doing, she was standing on his doorstep with the dog at her heels.

He spoke first, You look a bit lost – are you lost?  Then he must have recognised her and continued, No, you’re not lost, are you?  You’re a villager – I’ve seen you before.  He really was an old man with deep lines criss-crossing his face. and sparse white hair that hung down either side of his head.  You look very cold – would you like to come in and warm yourself by the fire, before you set off home again?

It was a kind offer and she didn’t like to turn him down, so she said, That would be very nice – but only for a few minutes.  I have to get home and give my children their breakfast.  She could so easily have refused but found she couldn’t do it – he looked so old and lonely, she couldn’t hurt his feelings

The cottage was very small inside – in fact, it was really just one big room on the ground floor, with a range for cooking against one wall and a lovely fire on the other side.  He pointed to the chair nearest the fire and said, Do sit down – even if it’s only for a few minutes.  It’s nice for me to have a visitor – I get so few nowadays.

He was very unstable on his feet as he sat down opposite her.  He offered her a hot drink but she refused, saying she didn’t want to be a nuisance.

You’re no nuisance, my dear – it’s nice to have you here.  I hope you don’t mind my asking, but you look as if you have a question you’d like to ask.  Am I right?

‘How did he know?’ she wondered and then decided to bite the bullet and blurted out, May I ask how old you are?  She knew it was a rude question and not one she’d normally ask a stranger, but something forced the words from her mouth.

Why, I’m 120 years old.  I don’t normally tell people that because they don’t believe me, but I truly have reached that age.  Why do you ask?

And she told him about Aunt Alice who used to live in the village when she was young and of how she spoke of a witch woman who’d lived in his cottage.  It all sounded so silly when she said it aloud, but his expression didn’t alter at all.  He stared at her and she thought, no matter how many years he’d lived, his eyes were still young and very blue.  He didn’t seem to have taken offence but he did look uncomfortable for a few moments.

Then he spoke, A witch did live here once – many, many years ago and to be perfectly honest with you, she still does.  I am she!  When all the friends in her coven disappeared, one by one, she was left completely alone and she believed the villagers would soon come and chase her from her home in the village.  I believe that’s exactly what they would have done too, but she spoiled their game and changed herself into a man – she thought they’d never expect that, and would think I was just a new occupant in the cottage.  That’s why I’m so old.  I’ve been here for a very long time. – in fact, my life has become a kind of agony which just won’t end.  Outliving all those around me is my punishment for my days in the coven.

Meryl didn’t know what to say.  Was he mad, the thought came easily to her? He didn’t sound mad, but the words he was saying did!

You don’t believe me, do you?  You think I’m making it all up.  I’m not you know, it’s the truth.  I don’t know how long I’ll live but I’m still reasonably healthy for such an old man.  I do tell people my story now and again, but no-one ever believes me – there’s nothing I can do about that.  He laughed and she saw a row of rotten teeth – he certainly looked old at that moment – but he wanted to reassure her she mustn’t be afraid of him; he no longer had any witch’s tendencies.  Actually, his teeth gave credence to his story - ‘To know a horse’s age, just look in his mouth.’  He told her she should call him Benjamin, I’m quite harmless these days, so you don’t have to worry.

Just before she left, she stood outside the cottage and pointed across the street at the human shaped pillar of stone. and raised her eyebrows questioningly.  He nodded his head, Yes, he deserved what he got. I had no option at the time and my action stopped the other villagers from attacking me.

She left him then and walked home in a daze, with the dog at her heels. She wasn’t even holding the lead – the dog just followed her, eager to get home. – he hadn’t had his breakfast either.

I don’t understand why you’re looking so surprised Meryl – I told you it was a queer cottage, didn’t I?  And as for his claiming to be the original witch, I’m quite ready to believe it.  I remember the old woman just disappeared and we thought she’d gone elsewhere to live, but now you’ve solved the mystery.  ‘There’s more in Heaven and Earth than you can dream of Horatio’, she spouted and then said Pass the marmalade please. dear."  And she gave breakfast her full attention.  That was so like Aunt Alice – whatever she was doing, she focussed on that – and that alone.

Josh and his sister came fleetingly into the kitchen, grabbed some breakfast and disappeared to school.  Aunt Alice remarked, They’re very keen on school, aren’t they? But Meryl could sense the sarcasm in her words, so she ignored them. 

By the way Meryl, are my old friends the Allcotts still living at Church Farm – I haven’t spoken with them for years now – they’ve always been away any time I’ve called before?

Having been reassured the Allcotts still lived there, Aunt Alice began to get ready to leave.

You’d better change your slippers for shoes before you go – it’s rather cold and damp out there, so you’d better wrap up warm.  Here, borrow this warm muffler – it’ll keep you nice and warm.  Meryl produced a cheerful red scarf and wrapped it twice around the old lady’s neck.

Careful what you’re doing dear – you’re choking me. And the ungrateful aunt pulled at the scarf to slacken it.  By the way, just before I go – have you ever visited the Allcotts yourself?  Or do they move in different circles from your – if I remember correctly, they were very churchy people?

I’m sure I don’t know what you mean by ‘circles’ – that’s a bit dated nowadays, don’t you think?  The village isn’t like that now. Meryl bristled at her aunt’s reference to a class system that was so out of date.

Don’t you fool yourself dear – class never goes out of fashion.  She changed her slippers for a pair of stout boots which looked the worse for wear.  ‘Tatty footwear must be a sign of class.’ Meryl thought and hid a smile.

You never answered my question Meryl – have you ever visited the Allcotts?  Aunt Alice insisted on a reply.

No, I haven’t – I’ve never been invited – and I wouldn’t be so rude as to just turn up at their door, and expect to be invited inside. Of course, her aunt missed the irony and immediately changed the subject.

Did you know Church Farm is haunted – and haunted by various ghosts and all from different times in history?  The best part of the farm to bump into them is in the cellar passage, the one that leads under the building, and into the crypt.  You know the crypt where the witches used to meet?

Really Aunt Alice, you’re making that up – you’ve never been in the crypt at the church.

Meryl thought the old lady was getting carried away with her story telling now, but Aunt Alice just sniffed and said, That’s all you know!

Soon, she stood outside the door of Church Farm and pulled the doorbell – several times with impatience.  It opened a crack and two bespectacled eyes peered outside.

Julia, it’s me – I haven’t seen you for such a long time. And she made to push open the door, but the person inside stood their ground and held onto the door.

Who are you please?  The door moved just a little and a little, elderly woman with white hair stood there, and looked the interloper up and down suspiciously.  I need to know who you are, she insisted.

Julia, it’s me – Alice MacPherson, your old friend.  Remember when I lived in the village and we were good friends?  The door opened a bigger crack and a whole head appeared this time.

Alice MacPherson, is it you – come on inside girl, let’s have a good look at you?  I haven’t seen you for years.  The door was fully open now, and Alice stepped inside.

My God, the memories came flooding back as she stood in the stone porch and looked down at the ancient flagstones. I see the blood stain is still with you – have you given up trying to rub it out?

"Oh yes, we just live with it now.  We’ve tried every cleaner under the sun, but nothing works.  It marks the spot where the maid was hacked down and murdered by a passing stranger, you know.  Julia explained unnecessarily – as Alice knew the story very well.

Tell you what, let’s go into the sitting room – the big fire’s lit in there.  And she walked ahead of her visitor - a slow, unsteady walk, and nothing like she used to be.

The sitting room was enormous with many wooden beams overhead and the biggest fireplace in the world – two people could sit inside, one at each side, and that was even when the fire was lit.  Many years before, people had to keep themselves warm that way – there was no central heating of any kind in the olden days – and people had to adapt.  Sitting safely inside the fireplace was a luxury only available to people with big houses – and this house was certainly big.

Sitting comfortably, Julia asked if she would like coffee or tea, and I’ve just taken some Parkin from the oven and it’s still warm.  Would you care for a slice?  And she disappeared through another door into the kitchen, without waiting for an answer.

A flight of stairs led down from the upstairs of the house, right into the middle of the sitting room.  It was rather a grand stone staircase, which carried on to a landing, where it split into a left and a right further flight of stairs. Grand staircase indeed! An old man appeared on the middle landing, and looking down at the visitor said, Hello. Who are you? I’ve not seen you before?  He was old, but sprightly, and walked with the use of a cane, which really seemed surplus to his needs.

Oh yes you have Frank!  It’s me – Alice MacPherson.  We knew each other many years ago.  Don’t you remember?  She stood up, which was a great achievement from the very low settle by the fire.

Sit down woman, don’t get up, you look so cosy there.  Where’s Julia – she told me tea would be ready at this time and yet, there’s no sign of her.  The missing Julia came from the kitchen, carrying a large tray covered in cups and saucers – and following her, was a delicious smell of Parkin which filled Alice’s nostrils.

Sit yourself down Frank, I’m here and tea is ready, as I promised.  She spoke to her husband as though he was a child.

It felt so right in that room and Alice relaxed completely, and enjoyed the tea and Parkin.  These were old friends she’d known when they’d all been young together, hence the conversation flowed easily.

Alice said, I remember baby-sitting for you when I was a teenager.  I felt so grown up to be allowed to look after your children – and when you both went out, I felt quite like the lady of the manor.  She was obviously back in the past and had a dreamy look on her face.

But disaster struck after about an hour.  It was dark and rainy and a storm was fast approaching, when all the lights in the house went out and I was left alone in this great dark house on my own.  I didn’t know where to find candles – I didn’t know about trip switches and the like - and then I heard the children whimpering.

Frank interrupted her reminiscing, That must have been pretty scary, my dear?  What did you do?  He helped himself to some more Parkin.

I froze – that’s what I did.  I couldn’t see anything, not even the stairs where the children were, and I remember beginning to feel my way around the walls. I was petrified, I don’t mind telling you.  I’d heard stories about this old house and how Judge Jefferies used to hold court here, when searching for witches, or people of the Catholic faith – and many poor souls were hanged in the village – imagine being hanged over religion, or just because you’re old and a little bit strange. Alice was warming to her story now but to her annoyance, she noticed half of her audience had fallen asleep, but then the heat from the fire was rather fierce.

Frank however. was engrossed in what she was saying and ‘midst spluttered crumbs of Parkin, he said, "Go on then – what happened next?

Well, that’s when I first found out about the secret passage from here to the church crypt.  She was enjoying telling her story – but then she always did.  She loved holding people’s attention – well, at least one person’s attention in this case.  Frank told her again to ‘Go on.’

I was still standing transfixed, knowing the children needed attention when I noticed a dim light suddenly appearing under the kitchen doorframe and then, the door began to open very slowly and a hand appeared holding a lantern.  The young Curate from the church came into the room and as the saying goes, ‘Suddenly there was light.’  He’d come along the passage from the crypt where he’d been doing a ‘rubbing’ of a tomb’s inscription when the lights suddenly all failed.  He knew there might be some alarm in the farmhouse and he came to help.  He showed me how to ‘trip’ the electric light, and the whole room was bathed in light again.

Frank was amazed, he’d never heard that story before, And then I suppose you made him show you the passage – is that what happened?  He was laughing now, I remember you now Alice – you always were a cheeky little monkey.  Did he actually show you the passage way?

Yes, he did and so, I’m one of the few villagers who knows of its existence.  By the way, whilst I’m here, may ask you a question?  I told my great niece and nephew that this house was haunted and they scoffed at me.  Is it still haunted – do you still see the odd ghost from the past?

We certainly do, my dear – mind you our eyesight isn’t what it used to be, so we probably miss a few – but they’re still around, that much I can tell you.  Frank was quite excited and said impulsively, Why don’t you bring them along to meet us – we’d be happy to show them the house – and tell them about our resident ghosts.  What do you say?

That night, in Meryl’s cosy sitting room, Aunt Alice told her relatives where she’d been that day – and what she’d been doing.  Of course, Josh laughed, Ghosts don’t exist – I don’t believe it.

Well, you’ve been invited to come along with me next time I visit and the gentleman who owns the place has promised to show you around – and if you’re lucky, he’ll introduce to one of his ‘non-existent’ ghosts.  Are you up for it?  Sometimes, Aunt Alice sounded like a girl again, especially when she was excited.  Tom butted in and asked if he could come along too.

I don’t see why not?  Are you brave enough? she joked. And what about you Meryl, would you like to come?

No, I would not, thank you very much.  I know there’s’ many a thing in heaven and on earth etc. etc.’ but I don’t want to meet any of them.

Where’s your back-bone Mother? Josh asked her with a grin, although truth to tell, he wasn’t too keen on the idea himself.

Let’s see how brave you are after you’ve been, shall we?  She was not going to let him off with his taunting. 

Aunt Alice innocently asked, Isn’t it sherry time, Tom – I’m sure it was this time last night when you served it.  Am I right?

Of course, you’re right, dear Aunt Alice – and as a reward for your arranging an invitation for us, I’ll serve you a double helping.  And he did, the result of which meant she had a second good night’s sleep in the smithy’s cottage.

Next day was rather uneventful with Aunt Alice deeply absorbed in a book about the village’s local history.  In the afternoon, Josh and Alice came home early from school, so Aunt Alice told them how thirsty she was and how well a cup of strong tea would go down. But not in a mug dear – I prefer a china cup and saucer – and perhaps with a small slice of yesterday’s Victoria sponge cake.  Yes, that would be very nice.

With raised eyebrows, Alice went into the kitchen to do her bidding.  Josh called after her, Same for me Sis – but not tea – I’d like a glass of milk – in crystal if you please, not in a mug.  Okay?

Her voice came floating out of the kitchen, Don’t push your luck Brother!

Sipping her tea, Aunt Alice asked quite innocently, Have either of you ever heard the Smith’s hammering?  Mind you, it’s usually in the middle of night, and you’re probably sound asleep – he always used to work in the early hours of the morning, I understand.  She knew she was teasing them, but it was all true nonetheless. By the way, can either of you see my friend, Gertie sitting over there? She pointed to the corner at the side of the fireplace.

Who on earth is Gertie?  I’ve not heard her mentioned before?  Young Alice knew something bad was coming – one of the famous stories. 

Even Josh looked uncomfortable. Now, who are we talking about Aunt Alice – is it the Smith’s hammering, or someone called Gertie.  You’re getting a bit mixed up.

I do not get mixed up Josh – don’t class me like yourself.  The Smith is the first man who lived in this cottage and worked the village Smithy. Eventually, this place became a garage, and then converted into a house.  But I can still hear the Smith hammering the iron nails onto the horse shoes – mind you, that wasn’t all a Smith did, he mended anything made of iron – in fact, he was invaluable to the locals who couldn’t have managed without him.  Pots and pans, fire pokers - in fact, anything at all – he could make or mend.  And as for Gertie – she was my school friend when she and I were small.  I think she was about seven when she died and I always think she blamed me for her drowning but it wasn’t true – she did it all by herself. She paused exhausted after her long speech, Now is all that clear?

But these people aren’t here – I mean, in this house.  We’ve lived here for years now and we’ve never seen or heard any of the people you’re talking about. Young Alice believed her Great Aunt was always trying to scare her – and she tried hard not to believe any of it – although sometimes, she was a little scared..

That is your loss my dear – and not mine.  Gertie always comes to my room when I go to bed – she never comes to my own home, so she only associates with this place. Gertie is most definitely here.

Luckily Tom and Meryl returned from the local pub, and the conversation ended. The room was normal again.

What have you all been talking about?  Meryl asked and was told by Josh that Aunt Alice was trying to scare them. But it hasn’t worked – Alice and I are made of sterner stuff.  He was smiling but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes – maybe Aunt Alice’s stories were more disturbing than he claimed.

By the way, when you get back from school tomorrow, I’ve cleared it with Julia and Frank – we can go to Church Farm.  Can you make it, Tom?  Tom could and would, he told her.  And we can begin our tour with the crypt so you can see everything.  When we’re in the house, I’ll show you the door that leads to the secret passage.  Josh looked a little wary at her words, but he’d never allow Aunt Alice the satisfaction of seeing it.

He heard it that night.  Looking at the clock, it was only four o’clock, far too early to get up.  There was a distinct sound of iron on iron – beating steadily into the night.  Where was it coming from?  He couldn’t tell – it seemed to be in the walls themselves.  He got up and went to Alice’s room.  He knocked gently and heard a sleepy voice tell him to come in.  He looked down at her, "Do you hear it Alice?  Listen, I can hear it.  It’s