Dusk was just settling over the lake, a light shade of red easing across the water like paint in a bowl. I thought it was nicely creepy, the start to an old Hammer movie perhaps. Lucy thought it was horrible, started talking about algae and refraction indexes, things way over my head.
“You can’t just enjoy it for what it is?” I asked her.
“What it is is a demonstration of the effects of waste products and lack of careful management.” She told me. “You mean can’t I enjoy it for what it seems like and it seems like a creeping swell of blood. Which isn’t the romantic image you think it is.” She nudged me with her shoulder to show she wasn’t taking any of this seriously.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze, enjoying the moment, just the two of us, relaxing together. No roommates or parents trying to distract us. We’d both turned our phones off for an hour, giving us this time together. The blood and algae lake moment might have started things off weird, but the moments that followed it were exactly what we were after.
Which is obviously why the universe decided to interrupt us as soon as it could.
“You should know you aren’t the first couple to find this lake romantic.” A voice spoke from behind us which made us jump, both of us let out a yelp of shock.
Turning to see who had spoken, my first thought was that I was looking upon the perfect Falstaff. He had a ruddy red face, was generously proportioned and his eyes twinkled with mischief.
“I do apologise. I did not mean to scare you.” His voice was the opposite of his appearance and I knew without a doubt that someone, somewhere, had given him the nickname Droopy for it. It was melancholic and resigned.
“Well, you did. A cough to announce yourself first would have been nice.” Lucy berated him and he nodded in agreement.
I took him in properly now, a brown jacket, thick glasses perched precariously on his nose, grey-ish trousers, he was the archetypal university professor.
“History buff, are you?” I ventured.
He gave me a puzzled look “How could you know? I am Professor Henry Archimede and history is indeed my area of expertise. I merely look into the local history as a hobby, so yes, you could call me a buff I suppose.”
Another man might have given a self deprecating chuckle at the end of that speech, not so Professor Archimede, he ended it with a disappointed sigh.
“Why did you say we weren’t the first couple to find the lake romantic? I should think not. I wouldn’t think there’s a single credible patch of land in all of England where we would be the first couple to find it romantic.” Lucy had locked into an interrogation mode. I knew from experience that these were hard to break her out of.
To my shock, Professor Archimede nodded respectfully at her, one colleague to another of sorts. “Absolutely. It was, I’m told, an ice breaker opener. Something to relax the students into the lecture. I was practising my technique on you, I apologise.”
Now Lucy nodded in agreement, respectful of the honesty “A fine choice. Perhaps it would work better on those expecting a lecture? The content was fine, the manner of its delivery was less than optimal.”
“I take your point and thank you for your input.”
I felt left out of this comedy of manners and was compelled to inject myself into it “Professor Archimede, if that was an opener, then you were prepared to give a history lesson to us? I sense a love story lurking behind your ice breaker. We would love to hear it.” I didn’t even glance at Lucy to check, I knew that she loved learning new things and I was a sucker for century old gossip.
The Professor, for his part, was taken aback by my enthusiasm. I sensed that despite his love for his subject, the monotone depressiveness of his voice kept his students at arms length when he would gladly welcome them in.
“Would you tell us, Professor? I certainly would love to learn something about this lake, I don’t know any history of it.” Lucy chimed in in agreement.
Taking a moment to compose himself, Archimede drew himself up to his full height, just a touch under six foot, sucked in a deep breath and gestured for us to look out at the lake, the blood glow of the setting sun fading to a lighter shade on the waters.
“See there, the small island, not the barren rise to your left my dear,” that was to Lucy, “the wooded one nearer the centre.”
We made noises to let him know we did.
“Keep your eyes on it, let me know if you see anything while I speak. It is the place I have come to view and I will tell you the story of why.”
Lucy and I half turned from the Professor to keep an eye on the island. It was small, maybe fifteen metres long, probably not much more than that wide, but it was hard to tell from our angle. It was completely covered in trees, living ones, their leaves still green.
“To the north of this park, just past what is now the service station and Burger King, there was a castle. Well, a fortified building but we may as well call it a castle for the romantic purposes of the story. It was home to one of the local lords and his daughter Vendramina. She was named for her maternal grandmother, a Venetian lady of some renown. As such, the little lady was drawn to the lake, the only large body of water nearby, something passed on from her mother and grandmother perhaps? It was by the lake that she met the boy, Andrew, a simple farmhand who also enjoyed spending his rare free time by the water. As happens, the youngsters, mostly isolated from others their own age, fell in love.”
“That’s very sweet. Not much of a story though.” I spoke up, being the smart arse I can’t stop being at times, despite my best wishes.
I deserved the icy look from Lucy and the sad one from Archimede, I had deflated him and felt instantly sorry.
“Please, accept my apologies, Professor. My mouth moves faster than my brain and my manners far too often. I’m enjoying your story and if there is more, would love to hear it.”
He looked at me suspiciously, I couldn’t blame him.
“Please continue, what happened with Vendramina and Andrew? What does the island have to do with it all?” Lucy implored him to continue.
The Professor smiled at Lucy “I can never say no to someone who wishes to learn.”
I swear his voice was just a touch less melancholic.
“I’m sure you have both been exposed to enough about class and romance tales and history of the treatment of women to guess at the next part. Vendramina and Andrew were told they could not wed. She was to be married off to another lord, being the only real thing of value her father had. Andrew set out to seek his fortune, planning to return before her marriage. Where he went and what he did is not found in any record. Remember, this was but a minor lord and Andrew was barely worth recording the birth of. The young lovers agreed that if Vendramina did not hear from Andrew before the wedding, she must go ahead with it, for he would have failed and may perhaps be dead. The weeks passed and the wedding day drew closer, but there was no word from Andrew. The last week began and still no word. Three days to go and Vendramina sent her maids out to seek word, keeping their absence a secret from her father. The next day the first maid returned and said that Andrew had joined a mercenary band and was presumed dead. But Vendramina did not believe her, thinking this maid was too familiar with her father to tell her the truth. The next night her second maid returned and said that Andrew had sailed to France on a ship to make his fortune trading, but the ship was reported lost at sea. Vendramina could almost believe this, but the maid had no explanation for where Andrew had gotten the supplies to trade.”
I found myself holding Lucy’s hand, the both of us nodding in agreement at the young girl’s thoughts, caught up in her story despite the monotone delivery of it. There was something hypnotic about the Professor’s voice as time progressed.
“The day of the wedding dawned and the last of the maids had not returned, nor was there word from Andrew. The morning was spent in prayer and preparation, but Vendramina still hoped for word of her true love. Just before they were due to leave for the church, the final maid arrived. Upon seeing her mistress, she took the girl aside from the other maids and spoke to her. We do not know what she told her, but it must have been something to do with the return of Andrew for Vendramina claimed to feel unwell and retired to her bedroom to refresh with only the last returned maid. After some time her father sent the other maids in to bring her to the church, furious at the delay. But when they entered her bedroom, they found only the last maid, asleep on the bed, exhausted beyond measure. They could not rouse her for quite some time, she steadfastly stayed asleep until the sun began to set.”
Professor Archimede gestured to the lake where the final light of the sun glittered on the peaks of the small ripples its surface “A time, very much like now. When the maid was finally awoken, the father forced her to tell where her mistress had gone . But the maid was faithful and they could only get her to say that the lovers were being reunited. Furious, the father sent her from the house, vowing no other should take her in and so she vanishes from history and our story, taking her message with her. The day was ruined, the groom furious until Vendramina’s father concocted a lie about her being abducted and the need to search. The groom, who was, by all accounts, a decent man if not a good one, set about gathering a search and hunting party. Vowing to save his future bride. They searched, but no sign was found of the thieves, for there were none, and no sign was seen of the bride. Their search was cut short by a terrible storm, one of the worst those who wrote of it had ever seen.”
“Where did she go?” This time it was Lucy who couldn’t contain herself. Her outburst was at least appreciated by the Professor, he gave a smile in return.
“It was two days later that they received word of a girl in a wedding dress running through this park towards the lake. With a clue, the father rushed here and called for his daughter, all of the household came with him and called her name over and over. But she did not reply. They did attract the attention of a couple of men, probably poachers as they were not named in the records. The man asked why they were all shouting by the lake. When it was explained to them, the men said they had seen a girl in a wedding dress row herself to that island. She had not secured the boat and it drifted away from her. While the men had discussed how to get the girl back, they saw another boat rowing towards the island, a lone young man pulling at the oars. Was this Andrew? The men did not know, for they had seen neither of the young lovers before that day. Before the man could reach the island the storm arrived. It churned the lake, creating waves on what had been still and quiet waters only moments before. The man and the girl cried out to one another, so close, yet so far. Her beckoning, him imploring she remain. And then the boat was capsized and the man was gone. The watchers could do nothing for the girl, they had no boat and the waters were too rough even if they did. So they sought shelter and warmth through alcohol and they did not think to return until this moment. Vendramina’s father was distraught, his daughter, alone on that island for two days after the storm? It did not bear thinking about. Quickly a boat and rowers were fetched and the raced to the island, only to find it deserted, only a few torn scraps of a white dress were evidence the girl had indeed been there. Her whereabouts were unknown. Had she attempted to swim back to shore only to flounder in her dress? Had she walked into the waters to join her lover? Was there some other person involved and even now she remained warm and cared for? None knew and never were they to find out.”
Lucy sniffed and even I found a tear in my eye. The story was an old one, familiar in places, but it still connected.
“Is that why you come here?” I asked “To remember a girl and boy who once loved?”
“No. I come to see if their ghosts will appear to me.”
That brought me up short, even Lucy was shocked.
“Ghosts?” The scepticism was back in her voice.
“I knew this part you wouldn’t believe, no-one ever ones.” The lightening of his voice was gone, the heavy melancholia was back. “They say that the girl in the white dress appears just after sunset, waiting for the boy in the boat. Not every day, just sometimes. So I come by to see if I can see them. Maybe call out to them. End the cycle of their disappointment.”
I looked back at the island, wondering if all this could be true.
“There’s someone on the island!” Lucy gasped.
I squinted, wishing I hadn’t let vanity overrule sense and worn my glasses. In my defence I had expected to be looking at Lucy, who was near to me. I hadn’t planned on needing to see a girl in the distance out here.
“I see white.” That was almost excitement in the Professor’s voice.
“So do I.” Said Lucy.
So did I, but was that enough white for a dress.
All three of us peered intently at the island as the very last sunlight faded and starlight was all we had to see by.
When oars splashed to our left we all three let out a small yelp. A boat was being inexpertly rowed towards the island and was that a single man pulling at the oars?
It was.
“Its true. They come back.” The Professor breathed the words softly, not wanting to spoil the moment.
Then a voice rang out over the water. A girl’s voice. From the island. Clear as day across the open expanse we heard her cry out “Oi! Kev! You better not have forgotten my chips!”
The moment was broken and Lucy and I released a laugh to drain the tension. Then I remembered how hopeful the Professor had been.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t them.” I told him.
His shoulders hunched and he turned away “It never is. No matter how many times I come here, they never return.”
Lucy and I turned back to the lake and watched Kev clumsily climb out of the boat and hand something to the girl.
“Hey, at least this love story has a happy ending. It looks like he remembered her chips.” I turned back to share this little bit of joy with the Professor, but I couldn’t see him. What I did see was a tall, stringy looking man running towards us, three cameras strung about his neck and a video camera with mounted light shining on us.
“Is he here?” The man gasped as he stopped short of us.
“Who?” I asked.
“Professor Archimede. He often appears to couples at sunset. I didn’t spot you until it was late.”
“Yeah, he was here just a moment ago. I’m not sure where he’s gone to be honest.” I told the man, making sure to put myself between Lucy and this strange man.
“Damn it all to hell!” The man yelled. “I always miss him.”
Lucy and I took a step back “Hey, its fine. Just see him at his work or something. You don’t need to other him at his leisure time.”
The man looked at me, puzzled then understanding change his face and he was sympathetic “Oh, you didn’t realise.”
“Realise what?” Demanded Lucy, fed up of me taking the lead.
“Professor Archimede died in 1934. Had a heart attack while waiting for some ghost to appear. Now he’s the ghost of this lake, always waiting for the girl in white, never seeing her.”
© Robert Spalding 2020
Ghost Stories by Robert Spalding 