The Tidy Ghost
By Berni B.
I was asked to help decorate a house not far from where I lived. It was a two up and two down in a street in a town. I am sure you know the type - stables for the working families of the nineteenth century. The house had belonged to the Grandparents of my, then, good friend, Anthony Johnson or AJ to his mates.
It was on one of those miserable Manchester rainy days when we pulled up in front of the house and, believe me, there was a fair bit of face pulling going on because of it. We unloaded the stuff from the van and got inside the house out of the rain.
I had expected the house to be empty and was really surprised to find antique furniture and belongings. In fact, if it had not been for the dust sheets and the dusky smell, it seemed to me as if someone had just popped out for a moment and was due to come back.
Anyway, we got stuck in and started shifting tables, chairs and things over into one corner which was no mean feat. I mean, this was heavy duty Edwardian furniture and not your wood dust blown MFI. Having moved it all to satisfaction, we covered it up with the dust covers in readiness for the gutting of the fireplace which, by the way, was one of those black leaded grate things which nowadays are scarce and worth a mint.
Having strained, puffed and panted, we both decided to go and get some nosh and a gargle, then plow on with the job of the fireplace after dinner. So, locking the place up, we both headed off to the pub on the corner for a pie and a pint.
An hour and a half later, with a gallon of Robinson's best bitter beer inside us, we both ankled back to the house, ready for the work in hand. Turning the key and stepping into the living room, we were both gob-smacked and speechless - apart from the odd F word - to find all the ornaments had been put back in their places, and the furniture, complete with dust sheets, returned and covered to their original positions.
I remember dumbly asking, "Do you think we've had burglars or wot?" But AJ reckoned it unlikely 'cos he didn't think that burglars were in the business of putting stuff back where they found it. He did say, however, that it might be the ghost of his Gran because, when she was alive, she was the real fussy type with a place for everything and everything in its place.
Although we did not see the old lady's ghost or stay to finish the job - nerves getting the better of us - we did hear and see stuff being shifted and put back in its place at the most unexpected moments.
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