The church of St. Andrew in Ford, also known as St Andrew’s-by-the-ford, was a smaller and less ornate building than the churches at Clymping and Yapton. Reverend Damian Follow preferred to call it a simpler church. It rested up a gravel road, which was hidden from the main road so well that many locals did not even know where it was or that it existed.
Today had been a sad one, the funeral service for a young man of only twenty three.
After he had said farewell to the mourners as they left for the crematorium at Chichester, Reverend Follow went back inside to tidy away his things.
He was surprised to find a young man still sat in the back pew, his head bowed.
“Young man, the service is over.”
The man turned to look at him and Follow saw that he as not wearing a suit as he had first thought, instead he had a thin black coat over a white t-shirt. He wore black trousers and dark trainers. He had several days growth of beard upon his face and his eyes were red and tired.
“I know it is, I’m sorry.”
Follow placed a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder “He is at peace now.”
The man shook his head “He shouldn’t be.”
Follow frowned, the man looked up and saw his expression and shook his head.
“I don’t mean he was a bad guy, that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean he shouldn’t be dead.”
This reaction Reverend Follow understood “No, he shouldn’t. A terrible thing, that accident. For such a young man.”
The man pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes “That’s not what I meant either. He was forced into that accident. Or something caused it. He was singled out to die, vicar.”
This was an unusual reaction, but it wasn’t the first time Reverend Follow had seen people try to explain random events as being some part of a plan. A cruel plan, but it was a rationalisation they needed to deal with tragedy.
Reverend Follow opens his mouth to comfort the man, but was cut off before could speak.
“Tell me, vicar, do you believe there are evil spirits?”
Follow pulled his hand away from the man; not another one.
Standing in the gravel car park by the church, Damian smoked the cigarette the young man, David, had offered him. It had been more years than he cared to remember since his last one but he had accepted without thought when it was offered.
“I guess you do believe then, vicar, the way you reacted.”
Damian nodded “I have encountered evil and been told of others. All in these last six months.”
David blew a smoke ring “That actually makes me feel a bit better.”
“I am glad.” Damian said, not feeling the same way.
“Would you listen to my story? I feel like I need to tell it to someone.”
Hearing another story of evil was the last thing Damian wanted to do, but he felt sure God had placed him where he was at this time for a reason. If it was to be a record of the evil that surrounded this area, it was a job he would take on.
“I will listen to your story. But perhaps we could go somewhere for lunch while you talk.”
David looked surprised “You wouldn’t rather be here, surrounded by God for protection?”
“God always surrounds us. The stones of a building, even one as old as this, are no relief to evil spirits.”
Now David looked scared “Are you sure?”
Damian remembered the fear in Gavin’s eyes, the hot, sweet smell of jam and shuddered “I am very certain.”
They went to Bognor for lunch. It turned out they both lived that way.
The cafe in the arcade was their choice, the pair of them being fans of the all day breakfast it served.
Reverend Follow sipped his coffee then asked David to start his story while they waited for the food to arrive. He gripped the mug tightly to hide that his hands were already shaking.
“The first one I saw was about six months ago.”
Follow nearly spat out his coffee “First one? You mean you’ve seen more than one?”
“I think so. They all do the same thing, so I’m not certain that it is different spirits.”
“They do the same thing?”
David gulped a big mouthful of his tea “No offence, vicar, but it will be easier to follow if you just let me tell it to begin with. Then you can ask questions, you might see things I overlooked.
“That’s reasonable, I apologise.”
“So, yeah, I saw the first one about six months ago, but I didn’t know that’s what I had seen until I saw the next one.” He chugged down more of the hot tea “Do you remember the old lady who died when there was a malfunction on the Christmas carousel?”
Reverend Follow did, Margaret Apple, he had presided over her funeral, strangely enough that had also been held at St Andrew’s. He nodded to let David know he was aware.
“Right, so I was here in town, picking up some last minute presents. I would have done it sooner, but I had to wait until I got paid. Saving’s never really been a strong point with me.” He chuckled. “I’m dodging the crowd, trying to stay on the outside of the fair and market they held in the middle of the high street when I saw him. A guy, wearing a grey suit and he’s pointing at the carousel. But he’s not holding his arm straight, he’s moving it. It took me a while to realise that he’s actually following the path of one of the horses. I don’t know what it was about him that caught my attention for so long. It’s not like there’s a shortage of people doing weird stuff in this town, I queued up behind a stormtrooper in full costume including the rifle in Boots last year.”
Damian allowed himself a small smile, he’d seen the stormtrooper as well, had even offered the man a quiet “May the Force be with you.”
“This guy he was pale, like really pale. Hadn’t seen the sun since he was a kid pale. His hair was black and it contrasted with the grey of the suit and white of his face in a shocking way.” David finished his tea and poured in more from the teapot. “After staring at him pointing for a while, I realised what was bugging me. No-one else was looking at him. I don’t mean that in the way we don’t look at the homeless or a fight we don’t want to get involved in. Even then, you see people react before they decide not to see them. With this guy, it really was that no-one else could see him but me. I was off to one side, so I couldn’t see his whole face, but I swear he started to smile. That’s when I heard the grinding and the snapping. The screams coming from the carousel. I looked at it to see the ride slowing down and people swarming towards it. When I looked back to see the pointing man, he was gone.”
The waitress arrived with their food, making Damian jump. After she had laid their plates down and given him a thoughtful look, the waitress left them to their food.
“This looks good.” Said Damian, without conviction. He felt his stomach churning, stress probably.
“It really does.” Said David, with gusto and he started to eat his hash browns. He continued his story between bites.
“I didn’t know what had gone on with the ride and the man was gone. I chalked it up to Bognor just being a weird place. So I went off to get the last bits I could in town. It wasn’t until a couple of days later I found out that Mrs Apple had died on that ride.”
Damian forced himself to eat his food before it got cold, but each mouthful was a chore that threatened to make him gag.
“Then, I was at the beach two months ago, on that first weekend when the sun came out. I’d got myself an ice cream and was sat down by the pier, just watching everyone enjoy the sun. I don’t know what it was that made me look up, but I saw someone standing on the pier, past the amusement arcade, down on the part I thought was closed off to the public. They were too far away for me to make out and features, but whoever it was, they were dressed in grey and had really dark hair. They were pointing down at the beach.”
David stopped to practically inhale a sausage.
“I felt a chill run through me. I didn’t know why at the time, I hadn’t made any connection between the pointing man and Mrs Apple’s death. I tried to follow where he was pointing, but I couldn’t see clearly. Too many people on the beach, too much movement. Some were splashing in the water. There was a group of lads kicking a football about. Kids just running all over the place. Like I said, first weekend of real sunshine, the beach was packed. Then this woman screamed, so loudly it cut through everything else. You could hear that whole section of the beach go quiet.” He drank more tea. “I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to know what had happened. A woman is wailing and then people are shouting, I see a fight break out. I looked away, not wanting to see. I look for the person on the pier and see them. They’ve lowered their arm and are just looking.”
David finished his tea and picked up the teapot to pour more.
“As I watched them, the person faded away. A slow dissolve. They got fainter and fainter and then they were gone.”
As David drank more tea, Damian was desperate to ask what had happened on the beach, but he was sure he already knew. He was certain it was little Carly Holding, who’s funeral had been held at St Andrew’s. He did not like where this story was heading.
“It was a little girl.” David’s eyes watered and he roughly rubbed them dry. “Six years old, running along the beach with her brother. One of the lads had kicked the football too hard, it flew over and smacked her in the back of the head. I mean, that happens all the time, its a bit rough on the kid but usually no harm done. But this little girl stumbled when it hit her, fell over at speed and then…” he trailed off. More tea. “Had to be a million in one chance, right? That that stone was that sharp and sticking up at just the right angle and be wedged enough for it to cut her throat open. She probably had better odds of being killed by a meteorite strike.”
“I know her story.” Damian said, not wanting to interrupt David’s flow, but also not wanting the man to have to relive something that obviously weighed heavily on his mind. “I know how unfortunate it was.”
“But was it? Was it unfortunate?” David slammed his fist on the table, making Damian jump. “Was it truly an accident or did that grey figure make it happen? That’s what started to prey on my mind. It took me a couple of days to put it together with Mrs Apple, but once I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
David scooped up a mouthful of the beans. Damian did the same.
“I started to think I was going mad, seeing a connection where there was none. I mean, it was weird enough that I had been near two unusual deaths, hell, that I had been near two people dying at all. The idea that someone or something was predicting or causing them? That was beyond insane. Seriously, vicar, I wondered if I was starting to crack up. Thought maybe I had hallucinated them figure because of trauma or something.”
Another forkful of beans went into his mouth.
“Then I saw the figure again last week. I was knocking on doors in Yapton, seeing if anyone wanted double glazing.” He smiled sheepishly “It’s not the world’s best job, trying to sell to people when they’re at home, but it’s putting food on the table and a roof over my head at the minute. I had popped into the Co-op to grab myself a sandwich and was just about to cross over the road when I saw the figure standing in front of the butcher’s. Like I say, I don’t know if it was the same one I’d seen before, this was the first time I’d seen any of them face on. But it was the same colour suit, same black hair, same pale skin on his face. This one was definitely a man. Clean shaven, bit handsome.” He shovelled more beans into his mouth. “He was just standing there, military straight, if you know what I mean. Well, I saw him and I couldn’t move, first from the shock of seeing him again. Then I saw his eyes. They were yellow, vicar. Like a lemon starting to go bad.” He drained his tea. “That’s when I dropped my shopping. Now, I don’t know if it was the noise or the fact he could sense I could see him, but he stopped looking at the car park to glance at me. When he saw me, he smiled and put a finger to his lips. That shushing motion.” David shuddered “It wasn’t a threatening look though. Not a ‘Shut up if you know what’s good for you’, it was more like ‘Keep quiet, don’t spoil the surprise.’”
The waitress dropped by to see if they had everything. David stayed silent, but Damian thanked her and asked for another coffee and another pot of tea.
“You get what I mean, vicar? He thought this was a joke and he was making me part of it. He made me, what’s the word?” He paused for a moment’s thought “Complicit. He made me complicit because I did it. I stayed silent. I watched as he slowly raised his arm and pointed to the car park. I couldn’t help but look. This time it was obvious who he was pointing at, that guy you just gave a send off to.”
“Phillip Smith.” Damian said, quietly.
“Yeah, Phil. He was walking across the car park, headphones in, completely oblivious to the world. That’s when I heard the car, coming from the Ford end of the village. Belting along like a loon, some Dom Toretto wannabe. I looked at the grey man, who was grinning so wide I thought it would split his face in half. I saw Phil step onto the pavement by the car park, saw the van start to pull out of the turning before the shop on our side, not seeing the car. That’s when I knew what was going to happen. It was obvious, why couldn’t any of them tell?” David started to cry. “Stupid, all of them. That speeding car swerves to avoid the van, he loses control, zips across the road, smashes into oblivious Phil and wedges him against the pillar by the car park entrance. Just, so stupid. If Phil had been watching or been three steps slower or faster, he’d have been missed. If the van driver had looked, if the car hadn’t been speeding. Just a ridiculous series of events.” Phil picked up his remaining sausage and bit into it. “I looked away, not wanting to see it. I looked back at the grey man and do you know what he did? That fucker gave me a thumbs up, delight in his eyes as he faded away.”
The waitress returned with their drinks. David gulped down half of his in one go.
“So, do you think I’m mad? I still think I might be a little.”
A year ago, Damian would have counselled that David go to see a therapist, to talk his feelings on these events out. He would have thought that the stress had made him see things as a coping mechanism. But now, after what had happened to Gavin and the story he had been told about Frank and Unwed Mary, let alone that lost man who he had met at Ford train station telling a story about a train that wasn’t there, he believed David. He believed him completely.
“I don’t think you are crazy, David. I think that there are things beyond the mortal world and that you have been unfortunate to encounter them.”
David nodded “That’s somewhat reassuring, vicar.” He shovelled both rashers of his bacon into his mouth and started to chew.
Something moved outside the window, catching Damian’s eye.
He froze when he looked to see what it was.
A man, clean shaven, with a pale face and hair as dark as the devil’s soul, wearing a grey suit. He was pointing at David and smiling. Damian had enough time to register his sickly yellow eyes before David started to choke.
The young man had tried to swallow his bacon too quickly, it had gotten stuck in his throat.
David gasped and hit himself in the chest. He thumped again and again, but the food didn’t dislodge.
Damian found himself rooted to his seat in shock.
The younger man stood up, kicking his chair away from the table. The noise made the other diners and staff look in their direction.
“He’s choking.” Yelled Damian, still unable to move.
Others began to stand as David whirled in a panic, trying to dislodge his lunch. Before any of them could reach him, his foot tangled in the legs of his chair, his momentum twisting him. He tripped, falling backwards.
Damian watched in horror as David managed to fall in just the right way to land his neck on the back of a chair. The snap as his spine broke was loud enough to hear over the concerned voices of everyone else.
As others converged on the still body on the floor, Reverend Follow looked back to the grey man, who gave him a thumbs up, eyes twinkling with joy as he faded away.
© Robert Spalding 2020
Ghost Stories by Robert Spalding 