Chapters 16 and 17: Phantom of the Hastings Caves

Chapter 16   His fingers touched the cold hand

Dave’s dad was  just about to go upstairs to bed when Dave came down into the hall holding his folded white stick.

“Dave? Are you off out?” his dad asked.

“Yes, I’m just going to Jack’s house.”

“Is Jack all right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s the first anniversary of Jack’s mum’s death soon, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“It can’t be easy for him,” said Dave’s dad. “Have you got your key to get back in, Dave?”

“Yes. ’Night, Dad.”

Dave tapped his stick against the garden walls as he made his way down the road to Jack’s house.

Jack was waiting outside the front door.

“We’ll go round the side of the house,” he said. “I don’t want to disturb Dad.”

Dave followed Jack round the side of the house, down the steps to the back garden and into the cellar. Jack unlocked the cellar door.

“Bend your head, Dave,” said Jack. “The ceiling’s low.”

They bent their heads and went in. Jack switched his torch on.

“Put your hands on my shoulders if you want, Dave,” Jack said.

Dave folded up his stick and put it in his jacket pocket. He felt for Jack’s shoulders and put his hands on them. Jack led him through the narrow central aisle of the cellar to the back wall.

“Right, here’s the hole in the wall,” said Jack. “You go first.”

Jack guided Dave to a wooden box under the hole in the back wall of the cellar. Dave got onto the box and felt for the hole. He squeezed through it. He landed on the floor of the hidden passageway that led to the caves.

Jack followed him.

They stood up and brushed the sand from the wall off their clothes and hair.

They walked along the passageway until they reached the steps that led down to the caves. 

“You do know this is mad, don’t you?” Jack said as they went down the steps and through the hole in the sandstone wall into the Midnight Landing area of the Smugglers Adventure. Jack flicked a switch in the wall and the Midnight Landing area was bathed in dim light.

“OK, it’s a bit mad,” said Dave as they crawled out from behind the boat and straightened up. “But she could die in here all alone.”

“Ghosts don’t ... sorry, she could, yes ... hey, Dave, the waxworks look a bit creepy at night,” said Jack.

“Have you put the lights on?”

“Yes. But they’re only dim. There’s a blue light around the boat and an orange light around the waxwork holding the lantern.”

“Oh, right.” Dave felt along the boat in the display. His fingers touched the cold hand of the waxwork smuggler sitting in the boat.

“Jack?” he said.

Jack didn’t answer.

“Jack. Are you still here?”

“Yes, sorry. When I saw you touch that waxwork’s hand, I remembered last year.  Dad and I went to see Mum’s body in her coffin the day before her funeral. I touched her hands. They didn’t feel like they’d felt when she was alive. I told Steve about it and then he told me about how his parents left him locked in the flat for three days when they went out and took a lot of drugs. ... Dave? What’s wrong?”

Dave had grabbed Jack’s arm and put a finger to his lips.

“Did you hear her?” he whispered. “She just swished past.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“Look around. She swished past us. She must be wearing the dress. Maybe she’s washed the trousers and top in the sink in the staffroom. … Can you see anything?”

“Nothing,” said Jack. “Do you want to look around?”

“Yeah, follow me.”

Jack yawned and followed Dave through the caves and up the Monks’ Walk.

“Do you think she came this way?” Jack whispered when Dave stopped at the ticket desk.

“Possibly,” whispered Dave. 

“Dave, listen to me. We don’t know whether she’s a ghost or not. But we know that she doesn’t want to be found,” whispered Jack. 

“Switch off your torch,” said Dave . “It might frighten her. Let’s stay still and quiet for a while ... ”

“OK,” said Jack. “But five minutes, that’s all. Then we’re going home.”

He switched off the torch and they stood near the entrance door in the darkness.

Then Jack heard a man’s voice coming from the other side of the door.

“Liridona... Liridona...”

Chapter 17   He drew a finger across his throat

Joy got off the train from Brighton at 12.50am. She walked sleepily towards the gates at Hastings Station. She was surprised to find the ticket man still on duty.

“Hello, how are you?” he said.

He recognized Joy because she travelled quite regularly on the Brighton to Hastings trains.

“I’m a bit tired,” said Joy. She fumbled for her ticket. When she found it at the bottom of her pocket, it was too crumpled to go in the machine. She handed it to the man.

“You don’t usually work this late,” she said.

“I do now. There have been too many fare dodgers recently. When they try to get through without paying, I do this.” He drew a finger across his throat.

“Oh, are you from Albania?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“A taxi driver from Albania did the same thing. When we were talking about thieves, he drew his finger across his throat.”

“Are you getting a taxi home now?”

“Yes, I will if there is one.”

The man smiled. “Your friend the Albanian taxi driver is outside,” he said. “He’s a friend of mine, too. He just dropped someone off here.”

“Thanks,” said Joy.  She went out to the taxi rank.

The Albanian taxi driver was about to drive off when he saw her coming towards his taxi. He opened his window.

“Collier Road?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she said.

When Joy was settled in the seat beside him, the taxi driver said, “You’re out late.”

“Yes, I had some work to do in Brighton.”

“That’s a long way to go to work at night.”

“Yes, but I had to,” said Joy. “How are you, anyway?”

“I’m OK. I miss my country, but I’m OK.”

Joy was glad he hadn’t asked what kind of work she had been doing. Comforting traumatized children for Social Services was confidential work.

“But you’ve got Albanian friends here,” she said. “The ticket man...”

“Yes, he’s my friend. He’s a good man. People from my country are the same as people everywhere. Good and bad ... but he is good. I have some good friends from my country here.”

They drove in silence. Joy was too sleepy to talk much.

Then the driver said, “Here we are. Number 27.”

“You remembered,” said Joy. She looked at the meter and handed him a five-pound note.

“Of course I remembered. How is your head now?”

“Fine, thanks. But I wish they would catch the burglar. The woman who pushed me over.”

“If you see her any time, call my taxi firm and ask for Fred. My real name is Ferdinand, but everyone calls me Fred. I will help you chase her.”

He handed her a company card as she got out of the taxi.

“Thank you,” she said.

“My pleasure. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she said as he closed the car door and drove off.

She stood under the light of the lamppost for a moment while she fumbled in her pocket for her door keys.

She didn’t see Enver watching her from the shadows.

The new Moonfleet TV smuggling series

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Video: Lighting up Christmas - Videos - Hastings and St. Leonards Observer

Video: Lighting up Christmas - Videos - Hastings and St. Leonards Observer

Phantom of the Hastings Caves: chapters 14 and 15

Chapter 14   The keycutter on the hill

“They’ve taken everything, Jack,” Jack’s dad said as he washed the dishes after their evening meal.

“No, they haven’t, Dad. They didn’t take Mum’s jewellery or our photos.”

“That’s true. Yes, that’s something to be thankful for. It’s a pity about the laptop, though. They took Joy’s as well. And her TV.”

“I know. ... Dad, I suppose they wouldn’t want cheap jewellery, would they?”

“Probably not. They’d go for the expensive stuff. Anyway, as Mum’s jewellery is under your pillow, they wouldn’t have found it.”

“How did you know it was under my pillow?”

“Because I change your bed every week. I’ve been doing it since Mum died.”

“Oh, yes. I forgot that.”

“Right, let’s go and put a bolt on Joy’s door. I bought an extra one when I was buying ours.”

“OK, let’s go there now.”

They went next door and rang the bell.

Madeleine answered the door to them.

She looked at the bolt in Jack’s dad’s hand and the toolbag Jack was holding.

“That’s a good idea,” she said. “But it won’t stop the thieves coming back when we’re not in.”

“No, but at least they won’t be able to use their keys when you are in,” said Jack’s dad. “Joy could have been seriously injured.”

“I know. But how did they get copies of your keys and ours?”

“That’s what the police were asking. Jack reckons it was the keycutter on the hill. She took our phone numbers, remember. She said it was so she could phone us when the keys were ready.”

“Yes, that was weird. I suppose there’s a way of getting people’s addresses if you have their name and phone number.”

“Yes, that’s what some of the takeaway restaurants do when you ask them to deliver your meal,” said Steve, who had come into the hall behind Madeleine. “They just type your name and the number you’re calling from into their computer, and then your address comes up. That’s how they know you’re not a hoax caller.”

“OK, let’s get this bolt fixed,” said Jack’s dad. “And then as soon as Joy’s got some spare money, it would be a good idea to get the locks changed.”

“I’m going to the hill to see if I can find out more about that keycutter,” said Steve.

“I’ll go with you,” said Madeleine. “We could go and see Dave in the caves as well. He’s been behaving really weirdly the last few days. I’m a bit worried about him.”

Chapter 15   I can’t get that girl out of my mind

Dave’s bedroom was warm and cosy. Dave could hear the music his dad was listening to downstairs. It was the Eagles singing Hotel California. It was one of his dad’s old favourites.

The song faded out. There was silence for a while. Then Dave heard another of his dad’s favourites starting up: Brown Sugar. His dad had been a Rolling Stones fan when he was young. He still played his vinyl records on his old record player.

Dave thought about the girl in the caves. She would be alone and lonely, deep down in a cavern, looking for something or someone or maybe hiding from something or someone.

Dave’s dad was still listening to Brown Sugar. If Molly had been at home, she would have danced around the kitchen to it. But she was at Joy’s house.

Dave’s dad had been really excited a few months before when the local newspaper had reported that the Rolling Stones had played in the caves in 1963. Dave supposed the gig would have taken place in the chapel or maybe the ballroom where the souvenir shop was now.

He wondered if the girl was wandering around the chapel now. She was probably still shivering. Maybe she was wearing his jumper.

Her voice haunted him. He walked up and down his warm bedroom. In his mind, he could hear her reciting the Smuggler’s Song in her gentle accent. He wished she could be in a warm room.

He’d felt annoyed when she had pretended she wasn’t there. She couldn’t have done that to a sighted person. But now all he could think of was that she was cold and frightened and alone.

He knew he wouldn’t sleep that night. He would lie awake, thinking of her trembling, cowering somewhere in the caves.

He decided he had to go and find her. He could make her some tea in the staffroom. And he could show her where the fan heater was.

But he knew his dad wouldn’t give him the keys to the caves at night.

Dave took his mobile out of his pocket and phoned Jack.

“Dave!” said Jack. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m OK.”

“Do you know what time it is? I was asleep.”

Dave felt his watch.

“11.15,” he said. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was that late.”

“Aren’t you tired, mate?”

“No. I haven’t taken my tablet.”

“What tablet?”

“Oh, it’s a tablet they often give blind people. It helps our brains to know it’s night time. When you haven’t got eyes, it can be hard for your brain to accept that it’s night time, and that messes up your sleep. But now they’re saying maybe we shouldn’t take them. They say they’re addictive.”

Jack sat up in bed and yawned.

“Jack? Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. I’m just waking up from a nice, cosy sleep. OK, why haven’t you taken your tablet?”

“Because I’m worried about that girl.”

“What girl?”

“You know, the one who grabbed my arm and went with me to the caves.”

“Oh, the ghost.”

“She’s not a ghost. Ghosts don’t change their clothes.”

“How do you know ghosts don’t change their clothes?”

“OK, well, maybe they do, I mean, if you believe in ghosts. But she’s a real girl.”

“Dave ... she was almost see-through. Transparent.”

“Was she? You mean that day on the hill?”

“Yes, she was weird. And people don’t dress like that. She was wearing a pair of strange white trousers and a kind of folksy old top. They were the kind of clothes a farm worker would have worn hundreds of years ago.”

“Come on, Jack, you don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”

“I haven’t thought about it much. Dave, take your tablet. Get a good night’s sleep.”

“No, I can’t get into a warm bed and know that she’s there in the caves all cold and hungry.”

“Hungry?”

“Well, she must be hungry.”

“Ghosts don’t get hungry. Sorry, OK, what do you want, Dave?”

“I want to go down the passageway from your cellar and get into the caves. I want to make her a hot drink.”

“You mean now? Right now?”

“Yes. If you lend me the key to your cellar, I’ll go through your passageway to the caves.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“Oh, that would be cool. These things are always easier with a sighted person.”

“What things? Ghost hunting?”

“You know. … Finding a person.”

“Finding a person who doesn’t want to be found.”

“Jack, please...”

“OK. Come to my front door. Don’t ring the bell. Dad’s asleep. And he’s got a long day ahead of him at work tomorrow.”

Copyright text © 2013 Fiona Cullen

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 9781492309604

The site of the Battle of Hastings may not be Battle ...

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/history/10486441/Battle-of-Hastings-fought-at-site-of-mini-roundabout.html

Chapters 11 to 13, Phantom of the Hastings Caves

Chapter 11   Liridona

It was dark in the caves. Everyone had gone home. Apart from the girl.

Keeping her right hand against the wall and holding her left arm out in front of her, she felt her way along the Monks’ Walk to the ticket desk. When her left hand touched the desk, she felt around for the basket of little torches kept there for the more frightened visitors.

She took a torch and switched it on. She shone it in front of her and walked noiselessly towards the heavy entrance door.

Then she heard a man’s voice. He was shouting from the other side of the door.

“Liridona! Liridona…”

The girl switched off the torch. She slowly and silently felt her way back to the Monks’ Walk. When she reached the end, she switched her torch on again.
Her dress was wet and cold from the dampness in the caves. It stuck to her skin.

Hot tears began to pour down the cold skin of her face.

Chapter 12   The ghost of the audio-visual show

The next morning, Dave was deep in the caves. He was directing a noisy group of French students into the Smugglers Adventure audio visual show.

A student came over to Dave and shouted above the noise, “Is the show in French?”

“No,” said Dave. “Your leader asked us to put it on in English. She said it will be good for your listening skills.”

The French leader heard this and shouted, “Yes, I will help them with anything they don’t understand.”

When they had gone in, Emma came up to Dave. She was carrying a broom and a rubbish sack.

“Are you all right, Dave?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Will you wait for that group to come out and then get the next ones in? There’s a group of Italians going in after them. I would do it, but I need to clear the spiders’ webs.”

“Yes, they’re hanging quite low at the moment. You only cleared them last week, didn’t you?”

“Yes. But it’s great. I’m glad the spiders moved in. They help to make the caves even spookier than before.”

“That’s true. ... I never know if I’m being brushed by a spider’s web or by one of you pretending to be a ghost.”

“Or a real ghost. ... Sorry, I was only joking ... . You don’t like talking about that kind of thing, do you Dave?”

“No. Ghosts are strictly for the tourists. I’m not going to start taking the ghost stuff seriously. No way. Oh ... are the students coming out?”

“Yes. ... Goodness, aren’t they quiet?!”

The French students came out of the audio-visual show. They were brushing cobwebs from their hair.

“Did they enjoy the show?” Emma asked the leader.

“Well ... it was a bit too ...”

“Too what?”

“Too...”

“Are you all right?” asked Emma. “Students don’t usually stand still and quiet like this. Anyway, I need to call the next group in. Could your students could leave this area and continue going round the caves?”

“Well ... are you sure the next group should go in? It’s ... a little scary...”

“Scary? But that’s what they enjoy! They usually love it when Hairy Jack and the other smugglers’ ghosts appear all over the room...”

“Hairy Jack was OK. It was the girl.”

“You mean in the corner of the room?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s just the special effects.”

“You mean, she’s an actress?”

“No, not an actress.”

“Who is she, then?”

“Well, it depends which one you mean. What was she wearing?”

“A white top and white trousers.”

“Trousers? I don’t remember that one. Anyway, we need to get the Italian group in ...”

“Is the French group still here?” asked Dave.

“Yes.”

“They’re so quiet.”

“They have never seen a ghost before,” said the French leader.

A student walked over to them and said, “She speak ... no, I mean, she spoke ... . She spoke in a strange voice.”

“Yes, she recited the Smuggler’s Song by Kipling. She recited it in a strange accent,” said the leader.

“And her skin looked thin and...”

“And what?”

“And ... clammy. And she was trembling all over. Shivering. And the skin around her eyes was dark ... .She looked as if she had not slept for many nights.”

“OK, listen. Your students look anxious. There’s really nothing to worry about. It’s just a tourist attraction. Dave will sit in with the next group, won’t you, Dave?”

“Sure.”

“But he can’t ...”

“Can’t see,” said Dave. “People keep reminding me.”

“Sorry.”

“No problem. I might be blind, but at least I don’t get scared of pretend ghosts. I’ll go in with the next group. You follow Emma. By the way, don’t take your students to the London Dungeon if you go on a trip to London. They would die of fright.”

“Follow me, everyone,” said Emma. “I just hope you aren’t afraid of spiders.”

Chapter 13   Watch the wall, my darling

Dave led the group of Italian students into the audio-visual show cavern. They shouted to one another about who should sit next to whom on the benches. They tripped over one another in the dark. Their leader sat down beside Dave and shouted, “Ragazzi!” from time to time to show that she was in charge. But the happy shouting went on until Hairy Jack, the friendly smuggler’s ghost, appeared on the huge screen at the front of the cavern.

The students stopped shouting. They watched the screen, which gave the only light in the room.

They stared at drawings on the screen of children of several hundred years ago turning to face the wall while smugglers carried their contraband through the streets of Hastings Old Town. And they listened as Hairy Jack recited Rudyard Kipling’s Smuggler’s Song.

The corners of the room were bathed in light for a few seconds at a time. The lights picked out figures of smugglers from the past. The students turned their heads to right and left, following the moving lights.

The recitation of the Smuggler’s Song continued:

“If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse’s feet,

“Don’t draw back the curtains, and don’t look in the street.

“Those who ask no questions won’t be told a lie.

“Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!”

Dave frowned. He had heard the audio-visual show hundreds of times. This time, something was different. There were two voices instead of one reciting Kipling’s poem.

The new, second voice was that of a female with a gentle foreign accent.

For a moment, Dave wondered if one of the Italian students was reading the lines from the screen along with Hairy Jack.

But the accent wasn’t Italian. The person pronounced ‘th’ perfectly, and her intonation wasn’t musical like that of the Italian students.

Suddenly, the students gasped.

The recitation of the poem by Hairy Jack and the female voice continued.

“Twenty-five ponies,

“Trotting through the dark –

“Brandy for the parson,

“Tobacco for the clerk;

“Laces for a lady, letters for a spy,

“And watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!”

“Dave,” the leader’s voice whispered.

“What?” Dave hoped she wasn’t going to start talking to him. He was trying to work out who the new voice belonged to.  

“Dave, my students are frightened.”

“Good. That’s part of the fun, being a bit scared.” He wished the leader would be quiet.

“Dave, this room is haunted.”

“No, it’s not. But don’t tell anyone it’s not.”

“Dave, there is a ghost in the corner of the room.”

“I know. There are pretend ghosts in every corner.”

“No, this one is real.”

“OK, can you describe the ghost?”

The students moved closer together.

She’s a girl or young woman, wearing thin white cotton...

“Yes, ghosts usually wear sheets.”

“No, white trousers and a white embroidered top. And she’s trembling all over. Shivering uncontrollably. And her eyes ...”

“Her eyes?”

“Well, I’ve never seen such eyes before. ... There’s a haunted look about them. She looks frightened. And she keeps speaking along with Hairy Jack, and when words come up on the screen, she stares hard at them.”

“OK, well, maybe the show is a bit too scary for young teenagers. Don’t worry. They’ll enjoy telling all their friends in Italy about it when they go home.”

The show came to an end. The students followed their leader  out in silence.

When they had left, Trevor came into the audio-visual cavern.

“I’ve never seen students so quiet,” he said. “Not just quiet. Subdued. The French were the same. What’s happening to our continental friends? Have they stopped being continental?”

“No. Dad, don’t talk about it to anyone, OK?”

“OK. It’s time for a sandwich anyway. Are you coming to the staffroom? We haven’t got another group booked in for half an hour. There might be one or two individuals, but Emma’s at the entrance.”

“No, Dad, I’ll just stay here for a while.”

“Oh. ... Right, OK. See you later, then.”

When his dad had gone, Dave felt his way round to the corner of the cavern.

“Hello?” he said. “Hello, person pretending to be a ghost.”

There was no answer.

“It’s all right. I won’t tell anyone. I’m just worried about you. They said you were trembling and shivering.”

There was still no answer. 

“I know you’re there,” said Dave. “I can’t hear you. I can’t even smell you today. And I can’t reach out to touch you, because I might mess up the left-hand corner display. But I know you’re there.”

There was no response.

Dave took off his jumper. He put it down on the floor in front of him.

“They said you were shivering. Put this on,” he said. “And don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you’re here. It’s like in the Smuggler’s Song:

“Don’t tell anyone what you’ve seen,

“or where anyone has been!

“Knocks and footsteps round the house

“ - whistles after dark – ”

He stopped. He’d forgotten the next line.

Then a voice whispered from the corner:

“You mustn’t run out till the house-dogs bark.”

“OK, ghostly girl,” said Dave. “You know the Smuggler’s Song off by heart. So do I. You can talk. So why don’t you talk to me?”

“Nook...,” said the ghostly voice.

Chapters 8 onwards of Phantom of the Hastings Caves

Chapter 9   The morning after

Early the next morning, Dave, Jack and Steve went to the cavern to clear up after the birthday party.

“Thanks for offering to help,” said Dave.

“No problem,” said Steve. “Where shall I shake the tablecloth?”

“Oh, put it in a rubbish sack. We’ll shake the crumbs out of it on the hill later,” said Dave. “And here’s a bag for the leftover sandwiches and cake.” He held out a black sack.

“There’s nothing left over.”

“But there must be. Dad said there were several sandwiches and a quarter of the birthday cake left.”

“No, there’s nothing left. There’s just the tablecloth. And there are the crumbs. And there are a few spiders. Are they the famous subterranean spiders?”

“Yes, be careful you don’t tread on them,” said Dave. “People travel miles to see them.”

He and Steve picked up the tablecloth and put it in the sack. The spiders crawled away across the sandstone floor.

“Joy was planning that we would have the leftover sandwiches for lunch with soup,” said Steve.

“They must be somewhere,” said Dave.

“The ghosts of the caves must have taken them,” said Steve.

“The ghosts are Dad, Emma and sometimes Mum dressed up,” said Dave. “And I can hear Dad swishing in now. ... When he’s wearing his smuggler’s ghost outfit, does he look like Batman?”

“No, I don’t,” said Trevor, coming into the dim light of the cavern. “My superhero days are over. Oh, where’s the food gone? I fancied a sandwich with my coffee...”

“The cave ghosts took the food,” said Dave.

Chapter 10   The ghost hunter

When Jack reached the caves exit, he saw a man talking to Emma at the entrance gate. The man was leaning on the ticket desk. The name ENVER was tattooed on his arm in black. A red and black flag was tattooed next to the name.

“Hi, Jack,” said Emma. “Have you got the leftovers in that bag? I’d love a sandwich...”

“No, I’ve only got the tablecloth. I’m going to shake it outside.”

“Ah, so you have tea parties in the caves,” said the man.

“Jack needs to get past you,” said Emma. “Thanks.”

As Jack squeezed past the man and out of the caves, Dave came up to Emma’s desk.

“Ah, it is my young friend who cannot see,” said the man.

“Do you know this man?” Emma asked Dave.

“I know the voice. It’s Enver. He was up at A and E when I was there with Joy.”

“A and E?” said the man.

“The Accident and Emergency Department at the hospital.”

“Ah, yes. I was not familiar with the abbreviation. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, we were talking about the ghost who walks the West Hill. Have you yourself seen the ghost?”

“Are you asking Dave or me?” asked Emma.

“You,” said Enver. “Dave does not like to talk about it.”

“Well, why don’t you come to our next torchlight tour? It’s in six weeks’ time,” said Emma. “You’ll see a few ghosts then.”

“Well, I will see,” said Enver. ‘

“There are so many ghosts in here. Oh, look, here comes one now. The spooky smuggler’s ghost.”

She pointed to Trevor, who was coming through the exit gate from the souvenir shop. He was wearing his smuggler’s clothes.

“You think I am joking,” said Enver.

“Are you saying I’m not a ghost?” said Trevor.

“No. I mean, yes. But I was talking about the girl ghost who walks the West Hill. I am a ghost hunter, you see. I would be most grateful for information about her. Have any of you seen her?”

“I told you before,” said Dave. “No.”