A leaf too far

About the Author My name is Fiona Baldwin, and when I was at Junior School I used to come home and then write a lot.

I have been writing stories for a long time because I enjoy writing about different things, and I hope that people enjoy reading these stories. I write new stories nearly every day.

(Fiona is a learner in the WEA English Functional Skills class at Crosland Moor Community Learning Centre in Huddersfield, West Yorkshire)

Š Fiona Baldwin Printed February 2013

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‘A Leaf Too Far’ and Other Stories by Fiona Baldwin WEA English Functional Skills Learner Crosland Moor Learning Centre, Huddersfield

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Contents Page

A Leaf Too Far

1 - 2

The Blue Mist

3-5

Orchard Close Emmerson’s Pale Lilac and Green The Locked Door Lost and Far Away The Wrong Path

6 7-8 9 - 12 13 14 - 18

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A Leaf Too Far Tuesday morning 5am

It is raining very heavily outside, but inside the house it is warm, with the brightly coloured, burning log fire.

For my breakfast I make two fried eggs and sausage with fried bread and a teapot of lemon and cinnamon tea. I bought a new flavour of tea a few days ago; it is ginger, spearmint and gooseberry flavoured.

6am Tuesday

My phone rings. It is the delivery man. He says if I want a lift to the new bread shop that opens for the first time today at 9am, I can, and he will be setting off at 8am, in his new van called “Bread Bites”. I say thank you, but I will be push-biking.

The bread shop is 22 miles from my house and the delivery man only lives two streets away from me. The shop is called Bread Haven Boe, open seven days a week from 9am to 11.30pm.

7am

I set off on my pushbike. I go left outside my house on the main road called Wine Road. I have now biked for ten miles. It is 8.20am, the road is quiet, there are only a few cars passing me. He peeps his horn on the van. I have twelve miles left to bike to the bread shop.

The last two miles of the journey there is a sign on the left turning on the road saying “Silver Tree Road.” So, I bike down to Silver Tree Road. I wasn’t aware of how beautiful Silver Tree Road is, with thousands of lovely trees. The leaves are falling off the trees. I like so see them falling.

I start to bike for the last two miles. As I come round the last corner I can see the shop. I lock my bike outside and go into the shop. It is now 10am.

The shop is very busy. There is a small café part in the shop. one

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Menu Teapot of tea Coffee Mushroom of cream or tomato soup Chicken salad Ham and cheese salad Cheese scones

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90p £1.40 £1.70 £2.99 £2.75 50p each

I sit down at one of the tables. I order mushroom soup and a pot of tea.

11am

Before I bike back home, I go to buy some bread in the shop part. I buy three white teacakes and two brown loaves.

11.15am

I bike back. It has become very windy outside. All the leaves are blowing around off all the trees. I was thinking that I will bike back home on Silver Tree Road instead of the main road. So, I bike down Silver Tree Road. All the leaves are blowing around because of the strong wind.

The trees are green, brown and yellow (so are the leaves)- nice tall trees.

It is now 3.15pm. I have just four miles left to get home. I suddenly stop biking, as to my amazement I see, blowing in the wind, a single silver leaf.

I get off my bike to try and get the leaf. First it blows on a high wall, so I climb up the wall and then the leaf blows up a green tree. I try so hard to get it off the tree, I am shaking the tree, but it won’t move. It is right at the top of the tree. The trees are nearly ten feet tall. I wait for an hour to see if the leaf will blow off, but it doesn’t move at all. So, I bike home.

The next day I think I will bike back to see if the leaf is still there. At 11am the next day the leaf is still in the same place.

Every day I go to see, but the leaf is still in the same place.

So after the years go by, I know I can’t reach the leaf, because it is “a leaf too far.”

Note from the author: “I enjoyed writing this story so much that I couldn’t write down the words quick enough.”

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The Blue Mist Tuesday 7am

I wake up to the heavy rain which I can hear on my window. I draw the curtains back and then go downstairs.

My log fire is still burning brightly from last night, so I put some more logs on to build the fire up high. I am having some logs delivered today; they cost £8 a bag of 50. I ordered 5 bags.

7.30am

I put the kettle on and make a cup of tea and toast a currant teacake.

Although the fire is burning high, it is still cold. I am sure it is because of the heavy rain.

It is now 9am. I hear a knock at the door. I open the door. It is a man delivering my bag of logs. I ordered them from the Pline Stores which is few miles from my house. Pline Stores sells a variety of things from logs, coal etc to paint. I say to the man, “Please could you take the bags of logs to my small shed?”

He says, “Yes.” The rain is still heavy. I say to the man, “I forgot to buy some light bulbs last week and I need them, as a few of my bulbs have blown.”

He says, “You are lucky, I just happen to have some in my van and it saves you going out in the rain to buy some.”

I say, “Oh that is very nice.”

We both go to the van. I buy a dozen light bulbs.

I say, “Thank you.”

He says, “OK.” He also says that tomorrow he is going sailing in his small boat, which is nineteen and a half miles from here at Black Den Sea. He keeps his boat there all year round and pays £12 per week for the rent to keep it there. The boat is orange and yellow and called ‘Fine Sailor.’

I say to him, “Have a nice time.”

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We have been talking for such a long time. I go inside to look at the clock and it is 11am. I go back outside and say to him, “It is 11 o’clock.”

He says, “I will go home now, and get ready for my sailing trip tomorrow.”

I say, “OK, bye.”

He says, “Bye.”

11.30am

I am making my dinner. I am having mushroom soup and cheese salad. I make a teapot of tea and cut a piece of pink sponge cake which also has pink icing on top. My cheese salad is on as big plate because it consists of Cheddar cheese, Cheshire cheese, lettuce, cucumber, egg, cress, radish, tomatoes, onions and potato nut salad.

Wednesday 8am

I wake up. I can again hear the heavy rain at my bedroom window.

I go downstairs and put the tv on. The weather comes on. It says it will be raining all week.

10.30am

I put my coat on to go to the shop.

This shop is called Top Pine Shop- two minutes’ walk. I walk into the shop. As I walk around with my shopping basket I put in two small loaves of bread, one bag of sugar, three green apples, a bottle of washing up liquid, two boxes of Zip fire lighters and a half pound bag of coconut mushroom sweets. I now go to pay at the checkout.

As I walk out of the shop I see that the rain is still very heavy.

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11.10am

I am home. I put the kettle on to make a cup of cherry and rosehip tea.

4pm

I cook a fish sandwich for tea and make a pot of tea. My fire is burning down a bit, so I put some more logs on.

Thursday, 5am

I wake up early so that I could go downstairs to put some more logs on the fire, then I will get up to a big warm fire. Once again the rain is heavy. Will it ever stop?! It has become misty.

In this story it has been raining all the time. The colour blue is of the sky and of water and also of misery because of all the rain. You can see and feel colour blue. It has become “The Blue Mist.”

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Orchard Close Once upon a time there was a place called Orchard Close, which had very very tall trees. It had three entrances to get into each orchard through three gates. The orchards are long, but quite narrow. If you are not careful you can easily get into the next orchard without going back out of one to the next gate, only because of the narrowness.

The fruit grown in the orchards are both apple and pear trees of fruit. It is 66 miles from my house. Although it is a long way, I am interested in going to look round. Every four months my local fruit shop delivery man goes to collect the fruit from the orchard. He will be going tomorrow he told me when I went to the shop yesterday. We arranged it, that he can pick me up in his delivery van at 10am in the morning.

Friday 8am: I get up and get ready. At 9.45am he is here. I go outside, lock my door and get in the delivery van. Mr Skipps says to me on the way, “Do you want to look round all three orchards?”

I say, “Yes, please. I want to buy 2lbs pears and 5 lbs of apples.”

We get there at 2pm. We first go into gate 1. He picks hundreds of pears off the trees. Then gate 2, he picks a lot of apples and pears.

Then last of all, gate 3, he gets two or three hundred apples. In all the paths there is a lot of fruit that has fallen on the floor off the trees.

2.30pm: We set off back to take the fruit to the shop.

6.30pm: We are back. Mr Skipps takes the fruit into the shop. I go into the shop and buy some fruit. I have never seen trees as tall as those at Orchard close.

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Emmerson’s Pale, Lilac and Green Sunday morning 4am: I just happen to wake up. I am aware that

the sunshine is strong because I can feel it through the curtains in my bedroom window.

I am looking forward to tonight when at 7pm I am going to the cinema with an old friend, who I haven’t seen for 32 years. I lost contact with her, but we met at a hotel two months ago, while on holiday at the seaside for two days. The cinema is called the Tuke Cinema and is three miles from my house and 15 miles from my friend’s house.

I fall asleep and get up at 8am. It says on the weather there will be sunshine all week. I got a new handbag before I went on holiday. I can use it tonight.

5pm Sunday: I put my coat on to catch the bus at quarter to five. I arrive at the cinema at half past five. It is too early, so I go into the café outside the cinema. I order fish, chips and peas and a cup of tea. After I have finished, I go out of the café and find out what cinema we will be in. It is Cinema 7 and the film is called ‘The Rear Window’. It starts at 7.15pm. There are 11 cinema rooms here.

6.30pm: I wait for my friend. It gets to quarter to seven and she comes in to the cinema. We both wait until five to seven then get a large bag of popcorn, half a pound of pick ‘n’ mix sweets and two large plastic cups of coffee.

7.05pm: we go into Cinema 7 and walk across the front part of the seats and go about half way back into the middle row and sit down. It is a horror film and finishes at 9.15pm. I will be OK to get home because my friend will take me in her car. I came early and on the bus so that I could have my tea, but my friend had cooked her tea.

9.15pm: the cinema lights come back on and everyone starts to get up off their seats. We go outside for my friend’s car. I get home at 9.30pm.

We have arranged to meet Friday night at 6.pm at our local art gallery.

11pm Sunday: I go to bed.

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The week goes by and Friday 6am I wake up. My friend is picking me up in her car at quarter to six tonight.

8am Friday: I make my breakfast. I make bacon and eggs and toast with jam and a teapot of tea.

5.45 Friday: There is a knock at my door. It is my friend. The art gallery exhibition starts at 6.30pm. Tea and biscuits are also available.

6pm: We go out to the car. The art gallery is six-and-a-half miles from

my house. The building where the art gallery is, is called Holden Hall.

We arrive there at 6.20pm. We get out of the car and walk into the Hall.

In the entrance there are nice multi-coloured lamp lights and a nice flowered carpet and a big staircase. There is a sign that says, ‘1st floor for tea biscuits and art exhibition.’ We climb the stairs to get the first floor. About 20 people are there. I buy two teas and four biscuits. I put them down at on of the tables.

It is 6.30pm now and the exhibition starts. There are five floors of art pictures. We all start by going down a staircase to a basement. The art pictures on the wall are so very beautiful. Then we go up to the next floor. Some of the pictures are for sale and they are all really nice. There are nearly 30 people who have come to see the art displays. We all go back downstairs now to the first floor. We have our teas and biscuits.

7.30pm:

I say to my friend, ‘What a lovely display.’

She says, ‘Yes.’ I say to my friend, ‘Did you have a favourite piece of art work?’

She says, ‘Yes, the one with a boy holding the bowl of fruit, painted by G. Holdon.’

I say, ‘Very nice.’

My friend says to me, ‘Did you have a favourite piece of art work?’

I say, ‘Oh yes, I did!’ I saw someone’s beautiful art work. It was “Miss Emmerson with a pale complexion, lilac dress and green, high-heeled shoes, painted by S.Scope.’

Author’s note: “I loved writing this story so very much.” eight

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The Locked Door (A spooky story!)

Wednesday 9am: I wake up. I open my bedroom curtains and I can see it is snowing.

10am: I am gong to look round a house that is for sale at 52 Ebsom Road. The house is 500 miles from my house, but I am catching a train that will get me there at 3pm today. I have to change trains twice.

Yesterday, I went to shop to buy a foldable pushbike that I am taking on the train, because after the last train stop I have a two-and-a-half mile path trail to get to the house.

It is in the middle of nowhere and stands alone. It consists of six bedrooms, a large entrance hall, kitchen, living room and cloakroom. I am meeting the estate agent at 4pm.

I leave my house at just after 10am. The railway station is only two minutes’ walk from my house. The train is due at 10.35am. It is 10.45am and the train arrives.

I get on the train and put my pushbike by the seat where I sit. I manage to get a good seat near the front of the train. It is now 12 o’clock and I get off the train at my stop. I am waiting for another train now. The train is due at 12.22. It comes at 12.20. I get on the train. I get off at the last train station called Lydonn. I arrive at Lydonn Station at 3pm. I get off the train.

It is cold. I put my bike up. I have found the path trail which leads to 52 Ebsom Road. I bike down the two-and-a-half mile path that leads to the house. It is now quarter to four. The estate agent is waiting in his car. He sees me and gets out of his car.

I say, ‘Hello, I hope you have not been waiting long for me.’

He says, ‘No.’ I say, ‘I am Mrs Baldwin. I have come to view the house at 4pm.’

He says, ‘OK. I am Mr Stotts from the estate agent’s.’

He unlocks the front and back doors. We walk inside the front door first.

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There is a large entrance hall then three doors and a staircase. We go through the door to the left which leads to the living room at the front of the house then go into the room at the right side. It is a large cloakroom.

Then the third door leads to the kitchen at the back of the house. Then we go up the staircase to find six bedrooms and another room, the bathroom. I will never forget the glass cube tiles from ceiling to floor in the bathroom.

Then we view the first bedroom which is large, the second bedroom is small, the third bedroom is large, the fourth bedroom is small, the fifth bedroom is extra large, but he cannot find a key for the last bedroom, so I cannot look at it.

He says, ‘No one has lived in the house for ten years, but the previous owners have decided to sell as of last week. They no longer want to move back to the house as they previously thought, they are happy where they live now.

We open the back door and go outside. There is a swimming pool and a lot of trees and grass with a high fence around such a big garden. I think about it and he says, ‘Oh, there is a basement as well, sorry, I forgot.’

In the basement there is a table with chairs around it. I know now I would be happy to live here, because I would like to eat down here and, if I had guests, I would like to take them down just to eat. There are 40 steps to the basement and it is warm- all the house is warm with electric heaters. They left the table and chairs and that’s all I want down there.

He says the house was built in 1962. He phones his office and asks if there is a key for the locked bedroom. They tell him there has not been a key for at least ten years as the previous owners did not hand one in and they say even now that they lost the key.

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I say to the man that I would love to buy the house. I am going home now to make an early start on packing my things together. I will need a delivery van when the time comes. He says, ‘OK. I hope you will be very happy here.’

I say, ‘I’m sure I will.’

He says I can move into the house from today.

Two weeks later I move in. I keep on wondering what is in the locked bedroom. Weeks go by.

December 1st: It becomes dark at about 4pm. It gets to 7pm and I go out of my back door and walk down the garden for some fresh air. I was not expecting to see a light on upstairs in the locked bedroom.

There is a knock at my front door. It is two guests who have come for supper. I let them in and I put their coats in the cloakroom. We all go into the living room. We watch tv and talk. At 9pm I go into the kitchen and boil the kettle and make a teapot of tea and a jug of coffee. I take out of the fridge the food and take them down for our supper. After supper we go back upstairs to the living room to watch a dvd. I am thinking about the locked room. They go home at 11pm.

I go upstairs to the locked door. It is still locked. I go back outside to the back door to see if the light is still on and it isn’t, so I go to bed.

10.30pm: I wake up and hear the sound of wind and a door being closed. I go outside my bedroom door and as I walk to the locked bedroom door it feels cold. I try the door and this time it opens, so I walk into the room. The light is out and it is very dusty and freezing cold. The bedroom window has blown open, so I close it. I am scared.

In the room there is a dressing table with a key on it. I try the key and it is the key for this room. I go out, leave the light on and lock the door. I go outside to see if the light is still on, but the light is off. I go back up to the room and the light is on and the door open! All this time the fire has been on in the room, but the room does not get warm. It is freezing cold.

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I try to lock the door with the key and it locks, and unlocks OK. It is spooky, so I am going to move back home tomorrow. I turn off the light and come out of the room and lock the door. I put the key in my coat pocket and zip up the pocket.

8am the next day: I wake up and check my coat pocket and the key has gone! The locked door is wide open. I walk into the room. The fire is so warm, but the room is ice cold and on the window sill there are 40 keys that all look the same. I go out of the room and pack up, then put all my things in the hallway. The delivery van is coming at 10am.

I contacted the estate agent and said I decided not to buy the house after all. I was lucky I could still go home because after five more weeks it would have been too late. I was also lucky with this house as it had a six-month trial before I had to buy it.

For the last time I go upstairs to the locked room to see what is happening. The door is closed and locked, so I try all 40 keys and they all fit this door. I put all the 40 keys in my coat pocket to take with me, although it is very spooky. I keep my coat on and where the keys are, the pocket is zipped up.

10.45am: the delivery van is here. I am so glad to be going home. On the way home I call off at the estate agent’s to hand the keys in. It is to my amazement that the 40 keys in my zipped pocket are still there, so I hand them in. I just say to the man at the estate agent’s that I found the 40 keys in the house, but I really know that 52 Ebsom Road is a very spooky house.

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Lost and Far Away It was one of those days where I just met a friend and spent most of the day with them. We sat down in this park, on the grass. We stayed in the park all the time. I suddenly remembered I had to meet someone else soon, although I liked being in the park with my friend.

I walked out of the park and along a road. It seemed a long way, but when I got to where we were meeting, the person never turned up. I waited for a while, but all I could think of was that I was very happy in the park with my other friend.

I wanted to make my way back, but somehow I forgot the way. I walked for a long time and kept stopping to look at the scenery, but it wasn’t familiar. All I wanted to was to get back to my friend in the park.

I kept walking and didn’t know which way to go. I had been walking for a very long time. Then suddenly I saw a building that looked like where I had arranged to meet my friend, the one that didn’t turn up, but when I got there it was a different place. People were there, so I asked someone if they knew where it was, where I wanted to go and someone said to me, “Yes. It is just further up the road from here.”

I said, “Thank you,” and started walking again.

I walked for hours, but I could see nothing at all that looked familiar. I couldn’t even get to see the place where I was meeting my friend, and I wished I could find my way back to the park where my other friend was. My boyfriend was the one at the park and I liked him very much!

The other person was just a good friend. More than anything I thought, “I wish I had stayed at the park! I was happy there. I feel far away from everywhere.”

It started to come dark at night because I had walked for about five hours- a lot longer than I realised. I thought I would find where I wanted to go. I thought it would be easy, but now there was nothing except that I was lost and far away.

Author’s note: I hope you like this story. It shows how happy you can be when you find romance.

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The Wrong Path 9am Wednesday: Today I am going for a long walk. Outside my house

I turn right on the main road, Busker Road. After four miles on my map it says that you turn left, off the main road, to Foxwood Lane, then there is a 50-mile track to the nearest exit. If you turn right, it leads to Foxhound Lanes, which is a two-mile walkers’ path, and after the two miles an exit out.

I choose to go left on Foxwood Lane. Well, I want a long walk. I hope I have made the right choice. It has pleasant surroundings of tall trees and pretty flowers around.

I think after 50 miles, I will go out of the exit and it should lead back to the main road. I have walked for ten miles and I reach a café called Hopeslide. I go inside. It is self-service, so I get a tray and look at the menu. I ask for tomato soup, and then put the bowl of soup on my tray.

I also put a plate on my tray, with apple pie and cream on. Then I get a teapot, fill it with hot water and get to the end and pay.

I am the only one in the café. I say to the café assistant, “It is quiet.”

She says, “Yes, we have only had three people in today. Are you walking far?”

I say, “Yes, I am walking the rest of the 40 miles down here, to the exit out.”

“Oh,” she says, “it is such a long way and a very quiet path.”

I say, “Yes, I usually push bike, it is much quicker than walking. “ Before I set off walking again I say the woman, “I might call on my way back, unless I go back down the main road if I manage to do 40 miles.”

She says, “OK.”

1pm: I wave at the woman and she waves

back at me. I walk again. As I walk I wonder just which way I will come back.

3.30pm: I look at my map. It says that I have 20 miles to walk. Since I left home, I haven’t met anyone at all, apart from the café fourteen

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assistant. In the distance, the path starts to look different. Instead of the one path, there become two ways, two paths. So I get out my map. On it there is only one path, and I am nine miles away from the exit. What shall I do? I am lost. I don’t know which path to take because there is only supposed to be one path. If I turn back I have 31 miles to get back to the café and 41 miles home. I had better decide before it comes dark.

6pm: It will be dark in about two hours. Which path should I take? If

I take the right path I will end up on the main road. I go down the first path and have a look in the distance, but I can’t see anything, only the path miles ahead. I turn back and go down the second path and that is the same. I can’t see anything except the path miles ahead. I hope the paths both lead to the main road. Then suddenly, I think, “If I stay on this path and see where it takes me, then get lost, I can always turn back to go down the other path.”

7pm: I have been walking now for one hour. There is no one and

nothing about. It is scary in the middle of nowhere. I have five miles to walk. I am ready for a drink and something to eat, but the café is miles away. I try to use my mobile, but there is no signal. I keep looking at my phone and the signal is off. I can’t text or phone anyone. If only I had come on my bike, I would have biked back home. I will have to keep walking down this path because it is nearly dark.

It says on a sign, ‘One mile to Slibbers Cottage.’ As I walk a bit further I see a white cottage with all its lights on, but I can’t see the main road, where I need to be. I hope it wasn’t down the other path. It is dark now as I get to the end of the path. All I can see now is the cottage lit up.

I wonder who lives there. I walk up to the door and knock, but after I have been there for 20 minutes, no one comes to the door. I feel afraid to be outside alone at night and lost, so I try the door and it is open, so I walk in and shout, “Hello! Please can I use your phone because I am lost. My map said one path nine miles back and there were two paths and it is too dark for me to turn back now. Can phone for someone to come for me as I am trying to get home?”

But no one is in the house because I check every room. I wonder if I can phone the café where I called earlier today. I find the phone in the living room. I have the phone number on a card in my handbag. I picked it up at the café today. So, I phone the café four times, but there is no reply.

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8pm: I go into the kitchen and make myself a cup of tea. In the fridge

there are some eggs, so I make an egg sandwich. Then the phone rings.

I say hello and a woman says, “Hello.”

I say, “Who is it please?”

The woman says, “Oh, it’s the café assistant, you came this afternoon.

Did you try to phone me a half an hour ago?”

I say, “Yes, but there was no reply, but I am glad you have phoned now.”

She says, “Are you home? It is just that I thought you might have passed the café on your way.”

I say, “Oh no, but I wish I was at home because I am so afraid, and I’m lost because the last nine miles that I had to walk to the end of the walkers’ path, there were two paths, but on my map there was only one.

Anyway, I took one of the paths and I have ended up in this nice, white painted cottage, but I want to go home.”

She says, “Don’t worry, I will come for you in my car and take you home if you want?”

I say, “Yes please, but could you come now because I could be in danger. I let myself in because it was dark and it was the only thing I could see.”

She says,” I will set off now, but where are you?”

“All I know is that it is called Slibbers Cottage. I can’t remember which of the two paths I took because they both looked the same.”

She says, “Oh I remember it on the news four years ago saying that something terrible happened at Slibbers Cottage and no one has lived there for eight years. They tried to sell it but gave up because of reports of people seeing ghosts. It is a haunted house.”

I say, “I am afraid. I must get out of the house at once and start walking back.”

She says, “No stay in the house because it is dark and you are alone with a long way to walk. I will get in my car now and find you to take you home, but it will take me a few hours with is being 35 miles, if not more. OK?” “Thank you. I will wait for you at the house. “ I look at my mobile. There is still no signal. At least the café assistant has set off to take me home. When I get home I will be glad. I am so tired with all the walking. I can hardly believe I am in a haunted house. sixteen

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In the kitchen there is pink, net curtaining.

10pm: I wait. She hasn’t come yet. It gets to midnight and there is not sign of her. Shall I sleep here tonight, or just start walking and go down the other path? It may be the right path, leading to the main road? So, I start walking back to the other path. It must be at least nine miles. I look at my map again, holding my torch. I notice something, a path shaded in, which means it is no longer a path. It is my fault for not looking at the map correctly.

As I go to the end of the path, I see a person, with nothing but head and body, no legs, dressed in white. It looks like a ghost. Why is it there?

I shine my torch around and there are lots of people, the same as the other one. As I leave the path they fly past me. They must be going to the haunted cottage. I wonder why the lights are on at the cottage and why food was in the fridge. I quickly run down the other path away from them.

2am: Just as I had hoped, this path has led me to the main road. A car peeps its horn at me. It is the café attendant. I am pleased to see her.

She gets out of the car and says, “Hello. Sorry I couldn’t get the car down the cottage- it is too narrow. It is only suitable for walking and bikes.”

I say, “It’s OK.” She says, “I was going to walk down to the cottage, just as I saw you.”

I say, “I couldn’t stand to be in the haunted house any longer. All the lights were on, the fire was on and food in the fridge. Then, to my horror, I saw a lot of ghosts as I walked back down the path.”

She says, “Eight years ago it was said to be the most haunted house ever.”

“I seemed to make myself at home in the cottage, but I didn’t know then it was haunted.”

The café assistant says, “Shall we walk down the path and see the cottage again?”

I say, “OK, but what do you mean again!?”

She says, “Well, I have been going once a week to turn the lights on and put food in the fridge. I pay the phone bill, but I did see the ghosts, just like you did.”

I sat to the café assistant, “Why did you want to visit the cottage at all?”

She says, “Because I believe in ghosts.” seventeen

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I say, “So do I, so let’s go to the cottage now and look round again.” So we set off walking.

5am: We get to the cottage, the lights are still on. On the table in the kitchen there are eight plates and eight knives and forks set, for the eight ghosts from eight years ago. Then we walk out of the house, after turning the fire off and all the lights, and getting all the food from the fridge. We even take the telephone, but leave the placemats and cutlery.

The café assistant says to me, “Shall we let the ghosts go and never return here any more?”

I say, “Yes! We can forget we ever saw it.”

So, we walk back to the car.

7am: We get in the car and set off back. We are safe now, on our way back home.

11am Thursday: I am home. I say, “Thank you very much for bringing me home.”

She says, “It’s OK. I will go home now.”

I say, “Bye.” She says, “Bye.” Perhaps one day we will go back to the haunted cottage. If only I had never taken the wrong path.

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