I is for Ivychurch
Hello and welcome to day 9 of the AtoZChallenge and my ghost story for the letter I. All month I will be posting flash fiction ghost stories inspired by local places in Kent.Today I have chosen Ivychurch, a parish large in area, small in number of residents, down on Romney Marsh. This is close to where I grew up from the age of 3 to 11. I must confess I could not find a particular ghost story to inspire this one, but with tales of hidden tunnels and smugglers there are bound to be ghosts, right? ;)
This is not a scary one. Think of it more like one of those children's ghost tales that were really popular on TV in the 70s and 80s.
Intervention
by Natasha Duncan-Drake
Arthur ran as fast as he could, but it was just going to be a matter of time before Steve and his cronies caught him. He should never have wandered off from the others, Steve was always looking for a chance to torment him. Because they were on a school trip, he'd forgotten.
Unlike most of his schoolmates, Arthur had really been enjoying the history of Romney Marsh with smugglers and duty men and everything. He loved learning about old places (one of the reasons Steve relished bullying him). He'd wandered towards the church with the pamphlet Mrs Garry had given them. That's when they'd attacked, throwing mud to begin with.
His heart pounding and their shouts in his ears, he ran into the church.
It was colder inside, much colder, but he welcomed the chill. What he did not welcome was how open and lacking hiding places the building seemed to be. There was a barrier across the other side between the arches, but he couldn't see any way through. The only thing that looked promising was the old fashioned looking wooden wall with the spikes on top and a door in the middle.
He ran to it, but the door didn't budge.
The sound of Steve and his friends echoed through the main doorway. Arthur became frantic, pushing on the door desperately. But it was clearly locked.
What he did not expect was for the door to be suddenly yanked inwards and a hand to grab him and pull him through. The door shut behind him and he found himself looking at a man in old fashioned clothes who put his finger to his lips.
"Come on, Arty," Steve's voice came from outside the curtained room. "We only want to show you how the dikes work."
Arthur knew how that ended, with him half drowned covered in weeds and mud.
The man very carefully turned the large key in the door's lock, but it still made a small sound.
"Hey, I heard something," came from the main part of the building.
The man beckoned to Arthur, moving over to the side of the small room and pulling back one of the many curtains. Behind it was an alcove that looked like it was for clothes or something. Arthur did not really expect the man to lean into it and pull something, or for the back of the alcove to swing inwards.
"We know you're in there, Arty," Steve yelled, and there was a thump on the door.
With fear pushing him on, Arthur decided an old tunnel was his best option. He'd read that there were supposed to be old smugglers' tunnels leading from the church to the pub, but he hadn't realised they'd been found.
It was even colder in the tunnel, but the man gave him a small smile before closing the door and shutting them in complete darkness. Arthur fumbled for his phone, turning it on and using it like a flashlight. The man looked at it as if he had never seen a smart phone before, but then grinned and beckoned Arthur to follow him.
It was only when they were deep into the tunnel and Arthur's breathing had calmed somewhat that he realised his companion made no noise. No footsteps, no deep breaths, not even his cloak sliding against the tunnel walls. Arthur stopped walking.
His companion turned, an enquiring expression on his face.
Arthur really looked at him for the first time. He had assumed the man was a reenactor with the museum or something, but his clothes looked worn and real, not like a costume. His hair was long, dark and greasy and his beard was messy.
"Are you a ghost?" Arthur asked as he added up all the clues.
The man looked at him and smiled, a wide, mischievous grin, before giving him a shrug.
Somehow, Arthur was pretty sure that meant, 'does it matter'. Given that the man was helping him he thought it might be rude to say yes. When his companion beckoned, he followed, although the fact it was icy cold in the tunnel did seem rather obvious now.
Arthur's reading in the horror genre, although somewhat limited, had encouraged him to believe ghosts were dangerous, unhappy and a blight on humankind. He suspected he had been misled. Especially when his companion brought him to another wooden door. This one was low, but the man pushed it and ushered him through.
He found himself in a dimly lit hallway that was half lathe and plaster and half wooden panelling, within which was the doorway. On either side of him were what appeared to be the pub loos. Arthur turned to his new friend, who remained in the tunnel.
"Thank you," he said.
The man nodded, giving him a small salute, before grinning and shutting the door. Once it was closed it was as if it was never there. Arthur pushed it, just to see if it would give, but it was like pushing against a solid wall. He smiled to himself as he realised he had been given a secret he suspected very few knew.
He wasn't old enough to be in the pub, proper, but they had been told they were allowed to use to toilets if they needed to, so he did just that. Then he headed out with a smile and wave to the landlady, who smiled back.
He stepped out of the pub just in time to hear childish screams coming from the direction of the church. He saw Steve and his friends running across the churchyard as if their lives depended in it. It seemed his friend had returned to the church and had not been as friendly with the bullies. They had clearly forgotten about the dikes in the area because there were at least three distinct splashes.
Arthur grinned as he headed back to the coach. It wasn't going to be him sitting on plastic bags for the journey back to school.
Unlike most of his schoolmates, Arthur had really been enjoying the history of Romney Marsh with smugglers and duty men and everything. He loved learning about old places (one of the reasons Steve relished bullying him). He'd wandered towards the church with the pamphlet Mrs Garry had given them. That's when they'd attacked, throwing mud to begin with.
His heart pounding and their shouts in his ears, he ran into the church.
It was colder inside, much colder, but he welcomed the chill. What he did not welcome was how open and lacking hiding places the building seemed to be. There was a barrier across the other side between the arches, but he couldn't see any way through. The only thing that looked promising was the old fashioned looking wooden wall with the spikes on top and a door in the middle.
He ran to it, but the door didn't budge.
The sound of Steve and his friends echoed through the main doorway. Arthur became frantic, pushing on the door desperately. But it was clearly locked.
What he did not expect was for the door to be suddenly yanked inwards and a hand to grab him and pull him through. The door shut behind him and he found himself looking at a man in old fashioned clothes who put his finger to his lips.
"Come on, Arty," Steve's voice came from outside the curtained room. "We only want to show you how the dikes work."
Arthur knew how that ended, with him half drowned covered in weeds and mud.
The man very carefully turned the large key in the door's lock, but it still made a small sound.
"Hey, I heard something," came from the main part of the building.
The man beckoned to Arthur, moving over to the side of the small room and pulling back one of the many curtains. Behind it was an alcove that looked like it was for clothes or something. Arthur did not really expect the man to lean into it and pull something, or for the back of the alcove to swing inwards.
"We know you're in there, Arty," Steve yelled, and there was a thump on the door.
With fear pushing him on, Arthur decided an old tunnel was his best option. He'd read that there were supposed to be old smugglers' tunnels leading from the church to the pub, but he hadn't realised they'd been found.
It was even colder in the tunnel, but the man gave him a small smile before closing the door and shutting them in complete darkness. Arthur fumbled for his phone, turning it on and using it like a flashlight. The man looked at it as if he had never seen a smart phone before, but then grinned and beckoned Arthur to follow him.
It was only when they were deep into the tunnel and Arthur's breathing had calmed somewhat that he realised his companion made no noise. No footsteps, no deep breaths, not even his cloak sliding against the tunnel walls. Arthur stopped walking.
His companion turned, an enquiring expression on his face.
Arthur really looked at him for the first time. He had assumed the man was a reenactor with the museum or something, but his clothes looked worn and real, not like a costume. His hair was long, dark and greasy and his beard was messy.
"Are you a ghost?" Arthur asked as he added up all the clues.
The man looked at him and smiled, a wide, mischievous grin, before giving him a shrug.
Somehow, Arthur was pretty sure that meant, 'does it matter'. Given that the man was helping him he thought it might be rude to say yes. When his companion beckoned, he followed, although the fact it was icy cold in the tunnel did seem rather obvious now.
Arthur's reading in the horror genre, although somewhat limited, had encouraged him to believe ghosts were dangerous, unhappy and a blight on humankind. He suspected he had been misled. Especially when his companion brought him to another wooden door. This one was low, but the man pushed it and ushered him through.
He found himself in a dimly lit hallway that was half lathe and plaster and half wooden panelling, within which was the doorway. On either side of him were what appeared to be the pub loos. Arthur turned to his new friend, who remained in the tunnel.
"Thank you," he said.
The man nodded, giving him a small salute, before grinning and shutting the door. Once it was closed it was as if it was never there. Arthur pushed it, just to see if it would give, but it was like pushing against a solid wall. He smiled to himself as he realised he had been given a secret he suspected very few knew.
He wasn't old enough to be in the pub, proper, but they had been told they were allowed to use to toilets if they needed to, so he did just that. Then he headed out with a smile and wave to the landlady, who smiled back.
He stepped out of the pub just in time to hear childish screams coming from the direction of the church. He saw Steve and his friends running across the churchyard as if their lives depended in it. It seemed his friend had returned to the church and had not been as friendly with the bullies. They had clearly forgotten about the dikes in the area because there were at least three distinct splashes.
Arthur grinned as he headed back to the coach. It wasn't going to be him sitting on plastic bags for the journey back to school.
Dramatic Reading on Patreon
For this month I am also recording dramatic readings of all the ghost stories. These are available on my Patreon. They alternate between public and patrons only every other day - today's is public.
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Please do let me know what you think of the story and leave me links to your AtoZ entries so I can visit you back. I love to chat.
Would you chance an old tunnel to get away from a nasty situation?
Would you chance an old tunnel to get away from a nasty situation?
A nice story, Tasha! The bullies got what they deserved in this case and I liked the friendly ghost. Maybe he had known bullies in his own time!
ReplyDeleteI suspect so, since he would have had to deal with the duty men! :) Thank you so much for dropping by.
DeleteGood post. Thanks for sharing this story! Sitting on plastic bags is no fun. Ha ha.
ReplyDeleteJ Lenni Dorner~ Co-host of the #AtoZchallenge, Debut Author Interviewer, Reference& Speculative Fiction Author
Had me grinning all the way to the coach. The Reverend Doctor Christopher Syn is watching too.
ReplyDelete