Ghosts of Ulverston Past (standard:drama, 5994 words)
Author: Sue Simpson (Sooz)	Added: Feb 14 2003	Views/Reads: 3198/2265	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The second chapter of Keepers of the Quantum. Lizard's Leap Two.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

with a chocolate bar though to keep quiet and leave the shop when he'd 
bought whatever it was he wanted so that she could be alone with Dean. 
She hadn't allowed for the fact that Vicker's ship yard had just kicked 
out and the shop would be full of wall to wall work-dirty men stocking 
up on beer and cigs for the big fight that night. 

“So what is it then?” asked Vicki as they walked passed the Horse and
Jockey and saw bobby Castor going in for his tenth pint of the day. 

Mark made up a fictitious story about Aaron Pearson giving him a hard
time at school. Had Vicki know that was all it was she would have stuck 
with Jackie Wilson for the rest of the afternoon. That wasn't personal, 
how could she bribe him about that? To her personal was something to do 
with girls, or peeing himself on the way home, or getting caught spying 
in the girl's changing rooms. This was just plain bor-ing. 

She'd gone to the effort of getting ready though, so figured she might
as well carry on.  Mum could have finished the ironing in the kitchen 
by the time they got back and if she was going to ‘get done' for having 
make-up on then she might as well make it worth her while. Dean might 
speak to her today, or give her a special smile rather than just saying 
‘forty-two pence please' when she paid for her chewing gum. He had said 
‘mind the step' the other day, but it was too late, she'd already 
tripped over it by then and her cheeks were blazing as she left the 
shop with her head down. 

Vivki had never smoked a cigarette in her life, but she thought that if
she had two pounds twenty she would buy a pack of ten, she looked at 
the price last time. He wouldn't think she was just a kid then would 
he? But what if he didn't believe she was sixteen and asked for 
identification that would be awful. She threw away this idea though 
when she looked at her brother's grinning face and knew that he would 
only grass her up to their parents when she got home and then she'd get 
into a whole heap of trouble when she would never smoke anyway. Well 
not unless Dean offered her a cigarette. Vicki drifted off into a 
daydream about her and Dean smoking cigarettes together and then him 
asking her out. He was seventeen and would be considered quite a catch 
at school. She just hoped he didn't have bad breath from all that 
smoking. She decided that when he asked her to have a cigarette she'd 
say ‘nah, I've just given up thanks' even Dean Hargreaves wasn't worth 
having bad breath and lung cancer for. 

Mark pushed the door open and went straight over to the sweets. Vicki
hovered round the magazine rack pretending she didn't know him. 

She was still leafing through the magazines, when Mark reached the head
of the queue to pay for his purchases and then to her ultimate horror 
his high pitched voice could clearly be heard all over the shop. 

“See that girl over there,” he said to Dean. “Well she fancies you and
she told Chelsea Baker that you're her boyfriend and you're taking our 
Vicki to the fourth year disco tomorrow night. She said you're picking 
her up in your car and you're going to Kissing Lane on the way home to 
smoke cigarette's and snog.” 

Vicki couldn't believe what she was hearing. She dropped the pop charts
magazine onto the floor and ran from the shop with hot tears stinging 
her eyes. When she ran passed Dean, she was horrified to see that he 
was grinning at her and she just wanted to die. 

It was true, she had said all those things, but how did Mark know?  She
ran all the way home without stopping and flung herself on the bed 
crying her eyes out and burning with shame. She had been all prepared 
to tell Chelsea that Dean had taken ill and couldn't make the disco 
when he didn't show up, now everyone would know that she had been lying 
and she'd never be able to face Dean Hargreaves again. She couldn't go 
to school anymore. There was nothing else for it but to pack a rucksack 
and run away. 

There was a tap at the door, and despite telling her very rudely to ‘go
away' Vicki's mum came in and sat on the bed. 

“What's the matter sweetheart, I could hear you crying all the way down
stairs.” 

“Oh Mum, you'll never guess what's happened, I just want to kill
myself.” 

She flung herself into her mum's arms and told her the whole sorry tale
in between sniffs and sobs. 

Karen tried to convince her that things weren't so bad and that
fantasising over boys you couldn't have was just a normal part of 
growing up. 

“And anyway if you think that's bad, you'll never guess what happened to
me when I was about your age.” As Karen predicted Vicki gradually 
stopped crying to listen. 

“Well we had this teacher for Geography and I thought he was the best
thing since David Cassidy.” 

“Who?” asked Vicki. 

“Never mind,” said Karen. “Anyway, I was sitting on the next desk to
Janet Wharton because my best friend Lianne had gone off with someone 
else. I wrote a note and passed it to her. It said ‘ Sir is fit. I 
think I'm in love with him, were going to get married and have five 
kids' you'll never guess what that Janet Wharton did to me.” 

“What?” asked Vicki. There was still a teardrop glistening on her cheek,
but apart from the streaked mascara her face was otherwise back to 
normal and gazing with wide eyed curiosity, all thoughts of running 
away were forgotten as interest in what her mother was saying took 
their place. 

“She put her hand up and said ‘Sir, Karen's just passed me this note, I
think you ought to read it. 

So he did, to the whole class. I hated him after that and never spoke to
that Janet Wharton again. But there is a point to this story you know. 
I grew up and left school and about five years later I saw Mr. Spencer 
the geography teacher in a bookshop. He looked totally dopping, and I 
wondered what I had ever seen in him in the first place.” 

Vicki laughed, “but what about this David Cassidy did you ever get to go
out with him before you met Dad?” 

Well I'll tell you what, you go and wash all that muck off your face
young lady and then come downstairs and I'll tell you all about him.” 

While Vicki was talking to her mum, Dean was giving Marko a bit of a
hard time, which wasn't how it was supposed to work at all. 

“You know what I'm going to do next time I see poor Vicki?” he said.
“I'm going to tell her to put laxatives in your breakfast cereal. You 
won't be so clever when you get caught short in the middle of assembly 
will you?” Everybody in the queue behind Mark laughed and he went red. 
Dean winked at him to show that he wasn't really mad at him and Mark 
left the shop still blushing, but glad that his mischief with Vicki had 
paid off so well. She'd be hell to live with for days now. 

He was munching on his socco-bar when he walked up the back alley to his
house. At that moment a small dark figure snuck silently out of his 
gate and seeing Mark began to run up the alley. 

It was Adobe and he'd discovered where they live. He must have been
looking for the frame Mark thought. He began to chase the little man, 
but Adobe for all his bent over shape was fast and he escaped into the 
dusk before Mark even got near him. 

Mark was panting hard when he slammed into the house and almost cannoned
straight into his mother who had been waiting for him to get in. 

“Aaah just the man I want to see,” said Karen. “Now then you can go and
clean out the guinea pigs, and then the garden wants sweeping, if you 
get a move on you can do it before the light fades. And then you can 
clean all my brasses they haven't been done for a while. And then after 
tea you can walk the dog and feed all the animals. If that doesn't take 
you until bed time then you can go and clean your room and have a 
shower.” 

“What! But I had a shower yesterday, It's Vicki's turn to walk the dog
and I cleaned the guinea pigs out last time.” 

“Well your sister's too upset to do any chores at all tonight so I've
told her she doesn't have to. So it's all down to you Mister and it'll 
give you plenty of time to think about the nasty thing you did to 
Vicki.” 

Mark wasn't pleased and told Caramel and Cornflake the guinea pigs how
unfair it all was. They appeared sympathetic and squeaked their 
agreement that Vicki was ‘just a big, fat, pig' but being of the 
porcine persuasion themselves they seemed to see no shame in that. 

Vicki was still upset and wanted to write up the horrible trick in her
diary. 

Of course, she thought that's how he knew all about it. The little
sneak's been reading my diary. Vicki was furious with him all over 
again.  She wanted to take the diary to her Grandparents house that 
night for safe keeping, but her mum wouldn't let her out in the dark 
and said she would have to wait until she went to Granddad's after the 
disco the next night. 

Vicki didn't want to go to the disco now. It had been spoiled by Mark.
In actual fact Mark had been given another harsh telling off for 
reading her diary, and although he had been intending to spread the 
story all round school the next day he thought it prudent under the 
circumstances not to. They were both a little bit scared about Adobe 
finding out where they lived and sneaking round. Vicki had seen him at 
the end of the street when she'd looked out of her window earlier that 
evening. At least the frame isn't here and that's what he's looking 
for, she thought as she prepared for the disco. 

So nobody at school actually found out anything about the incident in
the shop. Vicki's mum had advised that she mention Dean as little as 
possible and if any questions were asked. She should just say that he 
was working in the shop. Which was probably quite true? The disco was 
all right and she had a fairly good time. Simon Cole asked her to dance 
the last dance so at least she wasn't left without a partner. And her 
friend Sarah said that Jordan Peterson fancied her too. All this helped 
to salve her dented ego. 

The other's were already at Nanna's and were asleep by the time Granddad
picked her up. This meant that she had some time to herself to look for 
a suitable hiding place for her diary.  She found the perfect place, 
but would have to wait for the next morning to hide it. She smiled to 
herself as she drifted into sleep. After all Jordan Peterson was even 
better looking than Dean Hargreaves and at least he didn't smoke. Shame 
he was too young to drive though. 

The next morning Vicki slipped quietly out of bed while the others were
still asleep. She'd only had six hours sleep but wasn't tired. She 
wanted to write her private diary in the special place she'd found 
before the other's woke up. 

After she washed and dressed she quietly took the oil painting outside
the bathroom off the wall and put the picture into their frame. It was 
too big and hung out of the ends but it was okay the important part of 
the picture was in the frame and that was all that mattered. 

She had taken their frame into the bathroom and locked the door. Very
quietly she chanted the sand lizard rhyme and leaped into the picture. 

Although Vicki had travelled through time and space she hadn't actually
travelled very far. The oil painting depicted a local Dalton beauty 
spot and Vicki had leapt less than half a mile from her house. 

The Hags was one of Dalton-in-Furness' best kept secrets, running
parallel to, but completely hidden from the main road, the Hags was an 
area of pasture land with a stream and public footpath meandering 
through the middle. Despite its unsavoury name it was beautiful. Sheep 
and cattle grazed, birds sang and Mother Nature skinny-dipped in her 
wonder away from prying eyes. 

It was early in the morning real time, but this bore no relevance to
‘leap time', however apart from the wildlife she had the place to 
herself entirely. It seemed that in this instance, leap and real time 
had synchronised watches. As she walked through the grass it washed her 
trainers in the nourishing morning dew and her socks clung soggily to 
her ankles. 

She made her way to the signal box half way along the top path. A
disused railway blanket stitched the top edge of The Hags and these 
days was home only to rabbits, voles, dormice and foxes. The bench 
beside the old signal box was damp and she had to put her jacket down 
to sit on. It may have been early morning on the leap, but far from the 
early January morning that she left behind in the cold bathroom, this 
was summer. Even at this early hour the sun was warming the fields and 
the temperature was pleasant before the heat of the day became 
stifling. 

Vicki felt truly at peace and spent a happy half-hour writing her diary
without prying eyes, or taunting voice tormenting her.  Her pen flew 
over the pages of the red book as she disclosed all her secrets and 
humiliations of recent days. Her diary was a friend who always listened 
but never judged. 

When she had finished writing, she sat for a few minutes watching the
young lambs feeding from their mothers. It was a lovely feeling sitting 
there alone while the world slept.  She thought she heard a voice and 
looked around her, it was little more than a whisper. There was nobody 
there. It must have been the breeze forcing itself through the sycamore 
trees. 

The next time she looked up a lady was walking towards her. She was a
slim lady wearing a long brown dress and a straw bonnet. She held a 
wicker basket full of freshly cut daffodils and she was singing softly 
to herself. 

Vicki felt a tremor run the length of her spine and all the fine hairs
on her arms and on the back of her neck stood on end. What she was 
seeing was impossible. That lady couldn't have walked so far along the 
path from the last time she looked. As the lady continued moving 
towards her, Vicki saw that she was just-and-so transparent. She could 
see the sun shining through the lady's body. Vicki realised she was 
watching a ghost walk towards her. 

She was terrified and stood chanting the spell to cast her back home, as
the world began to spin she lost her grip on the diary and it fell from 
her hand. She bent to pick it up, but it was too late she was spinning 
out of control now and the diary was gone. 

She hit the bathroom floor running. 

Mark was on the other side of the locked door. “Hurry up I'm desperate.
Come oooon.” 

Vicki wrenched the door open and pushed passed him as she ran for the
safety of her room.  Mark forgot about his ‘desperation' and followed 
Vicki to find out what had upset her. His sister was sitting on the bed 
rocking backwards and forwards her eyes were wide and frightened and 
she was as white as her newly wet socks. 

“What's the matter,” Vic, he asked with genuine concern in his voice.
“Are you ill? Do you want me to get Nanna?” 

“I've just seen a ghost,” Said Vicki in a small shaky voice. 

“No shi...” began Mark excitedly before stopping himself. “No way
Vicki.” 

Vicki waited until he got Kerry and Vicki to join them and then told the
story of the lady down the Hags. “The thing is,” finished Vicki We've 
got to go back.” 

“Hey,” cut in Emma quite savagely. “I don't know where you're dragging
your pronouns from, but ‘We' `ain't ‘me' it's you and whoever's daft 
enough to go along with you. Girl you can count me right out with a 
capital GET LOST. I'm not going anywhere near any ghost and that's 
final.” 

“Here we go again,” said Vicki. “Listen up Emma, we have no choice. We
have to go back. I left my diary there. It's got everything in it, 
everything. All about the leaps, Whence, Sylvia, Everything. If that 
diary falls into the wrong hands and someone with any influence takes 
it seriously, can you imagine what the frame's going to do to the 
world? Humans will invade Whence for a start, we'll lose the frame, and 
George bush will probably find a way to cause the third, fourth and 
fifth world wars all on a grand slam.” 

Vicki was looking closely at the painting to see if she could see any
sign in the picture of the ghostly woman. “Hey look at this you lot.” 

They all crowded round the picture. Beside the bench was a tiny flash of
red. 

“It's my dairy,” said Vicki, “Because I left it in the leap it's become
part of the picture.” 

“Wow,” said Emma “So does that mean that time goes on in the picture all
the time, even if it's just hanging on the wall? Or is the place in the 
picture dead until we leap into it and set it off?” It was something 
they hadn't considered before. And after much discussion Emma decided 
to set up an experiment. She wanted to leap into the picture with Vicki 
and Kerry while Mark rode there on his bike. Now that she was a woman 
on a mission of scientific discovery it seemed her fear of the unknown 
was forgotten. In theory if time continued, Mark should appear in their 
leap even though he had gone there on his bike. If he didn't appear 
then it meant that leaps were only real to the people who leaped and 
lasted only as long as they were in the place. 

Kerry didn't like the way Emma had taken command. She was the one who
was going to go to university to be a scientist, not Emma. It wasn't 
fair that Emma should rule the show like this. 

“Well I don't believe in ghosts,” Said Kerry to get their attention. “In
fact Vicki I think you're telling a big fat lie, and to prove it I'll 
go by myself and get the frame.” She stood up and began to chant. 

This caused three reactions. 

“Good on ya Kezza,” from Emma. 

“Don't you call me a liar you over sized bookworm,” from Vicki who
suddenly looked murderous.” 

And... “Hang on Kezza you're not going alone it might be dangerous.”
From Mark who grabbed hold of Emma and Vicki and dragged them quickly 
into the leap zone before it was too late. Secretly he wanted to cause 
a smoke screen to save him having to cycle to the Hags alone. He did 
believe in ghosts and wasn't going to go there on his own for love nor 
money. He wouldn't even do it for fifty Socco-bars and was just glad 
that it wasn't going to come to a confrontation. Emma could be so bossy 
sometimes and he had an uncanny habit of losing when he tried to go 
head to head with her. 

The landed in the same place that Vicki had earlier, though whether it
was earlier, later or at the same time here was difficult to tell. 
There had been a change since last time. Although it was still 
pleasantly warm and the sun was rising, a thick mist had fallen over 
the meadow and clung at ground level to about ankle height. It all 
looked very spooky and Vicki told the other's to hurry while she ran 
back for her diary. 

Kerry was the only one who didn't run up to the bench with them. She
moved off the wet grass and onto the path, but then instead of going 
with them she spread her arms wide and said in a silly voice. “Is there 
anybody there? C'mon spooky ghost lady, come and spray us with 
ectoplasm.” 

“Oh shut up” Kerry, shouted Vicki I'm going to batter you in a minute,
you're not funny you know.” 

Kerry took no notice. “Is there anybody there? Knock three times on the
ceiling if you want me,” She said “Twice on the pipe if the answer is 
no.” Secretly Mark thought this was very funny, normally Kerry was the 
serious one, but he didn't dare laugh while Emma was mad. Things had a 
habit of turning on him in times of trouble and quite often he ended up 
with all three of them shouting at him. 

“See I told you there was nothing there. It's a well-documented fact
that there is no recorded evidence of life after death in any country 
in the world. No cold hard proof in any of them.  If Ghosties were real 
I think there'd be something by now, wouldn't you? It's just a load of 
Rubbi..” 

The other's had picked up the diary and were ready to go when the voice
answered Kerry. 

“Shoooo Shiiiii” It said in a song-song meter that carried on the
breeze. 

Kerry almost jumped three foot into the air.  She ran to catch up with
the other's now. “Atmospheric pressure,” she explained. “It's just 
atmospheric pressure caused by the ground warming and the air flow 
reaching a cross current with the ..er.” 

It was then that an invisibly person brushed passed her and caught her
arm. She screamed and started crying. 

“It touched me, Oh God someone touched me.” 

“Shooooooe Shiiiiiiine” repeated the voice.  It was unmistakably human.
It was close to them but had no visible form. But perhaps the scariest 
thing was the fact that it wasn't coming from the same direction as the 
invisible person who had touched Kerry and it wasn't Vicki's lady from 
earlier, this was definitely a man. The place was full of ghosts. 

Strange that nobody had ever seen them before. A mile down the road was
Furness Abbey one of the oldest monastic ruins in England and that 
place was rife with ghost stories of floating monks singing, and grey 
lady's and little girls killed in a car crash there, but they had never 
heard of ghosts down The Hags. 

“Flipping heck,” said Mark grabbing Vicki's arm and pointing. About
three hundred yards ahead of them a large stone cross had risen from 
the mist. There was no cross down The Hags, never had been.  And then 
two seconds later it was gone. 

The cousin's huddled together too frightened to move, let alone chant
the rhyme to get them home. 

A man and a little boy dressed in old-fashioned clothes appeared on the
path only yards from them, they had a pig on a rope and were dragging 
it along the track. They were clearly visible but transparent and could 
easily be seen through. The image of them was not stable and came in 
and out of view. 

“Will we get a good price for the pig Pa?” asked the little boy as they
drew level with the kids.” 

“I don't know lad, but if we don't then there's going to be no food in
the larder this month.” 

The cousin's could smell the sweet, ripe smell of the pig as it passed
them by. 

“They can't see us whispered Kerry.” 

“Trout, fresh trout, poached from Ulverstone `Nal just this morn.” This
new faceless voice finished with a phlegmy laugh. 

They still called the canal at Ulverston, The Nal even today, but Kerry
noticed that the man pronounced the word ‘stone' in full instead of the 
modern equivalent of ‘ston'. 

More voices were calling their morning wares.  “It's an old fashioned
market.” Said Kerry. “Wow.” 

“Bows for ladies, bowties for Gents.” 

“Flowers, pretty roses. Flowers from my own garden. Only hapenny a
bunch.” 

The voices were coming faster now, each of them over cutting the other's
all trying to be heard, all trying to sell their wares before anyone 
else took the precious pennies.  Every few seconds a picture would 
materialise out of the mist. A long cobbled street became clear laid on 
the wet grass of the meadow.  Either side of the street stall-holders 
tended their wares. And people walked up the centre with horses and 
cart, squeezing vegetables and stroking material.  Sometimes they could 
glimpse the large stone cross at the end of the road. And then it would 
all be gone for a few seconds and only the voices remained calling 
across the fields while the sheep grazed unconcerned or unaware. 

“Flipping heck don't you realise where we are?” said Mark in a voice
filled with amazement. “It's Ulverston town centre. Look at the cross 
next time it comes. It's exactly the same as the one near the Bradyls, 
and if you look closely you can see Hewitson's chemist on the corner.” 

“Let's get out of here.” Whimpered Vicki clutching her diary tightly to
her chest. “I don't care where it is, I just want to go home.” 

“Can't,” said Emma emphatically. 

“What!” chorused the others in a whisper, even though the ghosts
couldn't see or hear them. 

“Remember the man on the lounger? If we leap and any of these Ghouls are
near us, we might take them back with us. And I don't think Nanna is 
going to like a ghost pig crapping all over the house do you?” 

She had a point. 

“What are we going to do then?” Asked Mark He was still terrified, but
felt a little bit braver because if they couldn't see him, they 
couldn't hurt him could they? This was his reasoning anyway. 

A man appeared a little way down the path from them. He picked a live
hen out of a wicker box and showed it to a fat lady with a huge bustle 
on her bottom. 

“Rhode Island Red,” said Kerry knowledgeably. Even now when scared out
of her wits, she couldn't resist imparting what she called her amazing 
facts. 

The lady felt the meat on the hen's breast and nodded her approval. Then
right there in front of them the man wrung the chicken's neck. 

“I want to go home.” Said Kerry as tears streamed down her cheeks. “This
is horrible, horrible.” Kerry had a great affinity with birds and hens 
were such gentle creatures she said they didn't deserve to be treated 
like that. 

“People had to eat Kez,” said Mark appalled at the slaughter yet
fascinated. “They didn't have McDonalds you know.” They had barely 
realised that as they talked their fascination had drawn them along the 
‘road' they were walking sometimes between rows of brightly adorned 
stalls and sometimes in a grassy field between grazing sheep. 

“Ponies shod, only one ‘n' six.” Shouted a man beside them. 

“Oh my God,” cried Kerry. “We've got to stop him, he's going to shoot a
pony.” 

“Duh” He said shod stupid,” chided Emma. “He's a farrier and he's going
to put shoes on them.” 

Kerry did indeed feel stupid, she was supposed to be the clever one and
hated it when Emma made her look silly in front of the others. She 
pouted. 

“Right this is the deal,” said Vicki. “We've got to find somewhere away
from the market where there are no spooks. Then we can all spread our 
arms and turn round to see that there are none near us and then leap 
quickly before any of them get close.” 

They all agreed that this was a good plan. It took some time to find a
place that was suitable. One or other of them would always scream out 
as they came into contact with another person or a piece of a market 
stall. Kerry was beside herself when a stall became visible just as she 
thought she was stroking a piece of rich velvet material, only to 
discover she had plunged her hand into a side of honeycombed tripe. It 
was then that she discovered that she wasn't beside herself after all. 
It was a big red-faced butcher with blood all over his blue and white 
apron that was beside her. She set about screaming and the others 
agreed that it was high time they managed to get home. 

Finally they were able to leap in solitude and leave all the ghosts of
the past behind them. 

Back in the bedroom Vicki and Emma got into a huge row about the
picture. Emma wanted to cut it down and put it into her leap file, but 
Vicki insisted that it belonged to Nanna and had to go back up on the 
wall before her grandparents noticed and started asking awkward 
questions. She argued that, as they were never going to go back there, 
surely there was no point in keeping it in the file. 

Emma said that Nanna hated the picture and once told her it was boring,
but covered a white patch on the wall so wouldn't mind if she had it. 
Emma said she wanted a record of every leap they did for the file, even 
the bad ones. She took hold of the picture of The Hags and said that 
she would go and ask Nanna if she could have it. 

Vicki not backing down tried to grab it, to return it to its original
frame. Neither of them would give in and the picture ripped down the 
middle, leaving each girl looking guilty with a piece of picture in her 
hand. 

“Hang on a sec. Look at this.” Kerry had taken hold of Emma's half of
the painting and was looking closely at it. Part of the paint had 
chipped away in the rip. There was something underneath the topcoat, it 
looked like a piece of a lady's dress. 

“It's another picture underneath.” 

For the next half-hour they chipped away at the picture with nail files
and fingernails. It didn't come away very well and the picture ripped 
often, but they managed to clear enough of the top painting to make out 
a market scene underneath. 

“So they weren't ghosts after all,” said a smug Kerry. There was another
picture underneath and it was interfering with the leap. “We were in 
two leaps at once. Isn't that amazing?” 

“Just think,” said Emma great Granddad Jim might have been alive then.
We might have passed him walking down the street. 


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