by Les Shipp
the Monday morning I was directed to the workmen’s entrance. None of the employees were allowed to enter by the front door. I was to work in the grocery department and most of my time was taken up parcelling up orders to be delivered. It was common for the Lord and Ladies house keeper to phone the orders through, not like shopping as I knew it. A number of the grocery items were exotic and expensive, like sugared ants or glassayed grasshoppers to name a few. It was pleasant working there as my English co-workers were very friendly. I often wondered how they managed on their wage when they had families to keep. I found it hard enough to manage with just me to worry about. London was an expensive place to live and I think perhaps many of the English workers didn’t live in live in the city but commuted by train from outlying areas.
Another Australian came to work there and we became good friends. He had a Vespa Scooter and we used to dart through the London traffic with me perched on the back. We used to entertain the staff during the lunch break. Keven would tell jokes and I would sing folk songs.
I worked there for two months until Christmas time when I returned to Ireland to be married. My life for the two months in London was very full. There would be a party just about every night or at least a trip down to the local pub for a drink or two.
To marry in Ireland, especially into a prominent catholic family, I had to become a catholic, so each week I was instructed by a young priest so could become baptised into the Catholic Church. The priest said in the short time I had it wouldn’t be possible to become a catholic. I wrote to Alice’s mother to tell her of my dilemma. With the next visit to the young priest, he was very distant with me. He was a bit miffed that the Irish Bishop had phoned him and told him that I would become a catholic before Christmas, and so I did in theory. When I was baptised one of the girls from my building came along as my Godmother.
Out of the blue I received an invitation to a twenty-first birthday party up in Cambridge. It was from one of the siblings I had met in Dublin when I first went over there. It was to be a black tie affair and as I had not taken my dinner suit to England with me I thought I would give it a miss. My flatmates said why not and they would lend me a dinner suit, so off I went to Cambridge dressed like a man about town. To my surprise I was met at the station by a chauffeur driven Bentley and whisked off to the party. When we arrived at the party I was surprised again as the resident was more of a Castle than a Mansion.
At dinner in the massive dining hall I was seated next to the birthday girl. I was anxious during dinner not to make any faux pars as the food was rather exotic. I managed ok but nearly came undone when one of the servings arrived which appeared to be a very small whole chicken. I was trying to cut around the bones until I discovered it didn’t have any.
The siblings said their father had plantations out in the Caribbean and they were going to sail the family yacht out there and would I like to join them. I thanked them but declined as I was returning home very soon. The party went all night with several dance bands and didn’t stop until breakfast was served next morning. All the London travellers were then driven back to the train.
When I told my flatmates I was off to Ireland for Christmas and getting married early January. They said you must be mad leaving all this. All this wasn’t as exciting as my life was going to be from now on.
As I work in my garden fifty-six years later I wonder, was that exciting life really mine all those years ago.
THE SPARE ROOM.
Most of the rooms in the big old house were occupied but there was one room that was spare. It wasn’t any different from the other rooms in the house except no one ever went into it. If an extra person came to stay they doubled up in one of the other rooms with another member of the family. The spare room was never mentioned by the family and the younger members just knew it as a room that was never used. It would have been handy to have the use of the spare room at times but there was such a mystery about it that no one dared to bring the subject up, even though they were not aware of any reason not to, it just was.
The old granny who lived in the house knew why the room was never used, although some of the details had become a little foggy with the passing of time. Granny used to sit in her rocking chair out on the veranda rocking back and forth with past memories drifting through her mind from time to time. The rest of the family, although they loved her, never really had time to sit and chat with her.
The eldest daughter Bonny became engaged to a young man from the village and they were to have an engagement party at the house. The young man from the village was called Bob and the family invited him to stay with them the night of the party and share a room with one of the brothers. Bob was delighted with the invitation as it made him feel part of the family. He was curious the next day about having to share a room when there was a perfectly good spare room available. He asked Bonny about the spare room but she didn’t know why it was never used or even entered into.
She had never really thought about it but decided she would investigate the room. The room was so taboo she didn’t like to bring the subject up with her parents. So one evening when everyone had gone to bed she sneaked along the corridor to the spare room. It wasn’t locked so she quietly opened the door and went in. To her amazement the room was set up like someone used the room and kept it spotless, even down to fresh flowers in a vase on the sideboard. This gave Bonny very strange feeling, as she felt she was not alone in the room. She felt she must be hallucinating when she saw a young woman sitting at the dressing table brushing her hair. Soon the figure faded away, this was too much for Bonny and she fled the room in fright.
Bonny couldn’t sleep much for the rest of the night, going over her experience. Who could she ask about what she had seen in the spare room? The next day she felt washed out and decided to take the day off from work and try and make sense of what had happened.
There was a spare chair alongside of Granny’s rocking chair in case someone did come along for a chat. Bonny sat in this chair wondering if Granny would know the answer to her dilemma. Granny was just sitting there with her memories floating past. Bonny didn’t want to disturb her but had to have some answers. Eventually she plucked up enough courage to bring up the subject of the story behind the spare room. After sifting through her many memories, with tears in her eyes Granny said yes it was upon her wishes that the room was never used. She kept it as a shrine for her youngest sister Gladis. Gladis had been a very beautiful girl and had been very much in love with a young man from the village. They were soon to be married. Tragically the night before the wedding, the young man was killed in a horse accident. Gladis was so distraught that when the doctor gave her some sleeping pills to help her through the ordeal she had taken the lot at once. Granny had found her the next day looking like she had just gone to sleep in that room.
It was after this that Granny had set up the room as a shrine and kept it that way all these years. Yes she felt that Gladis was still in the room waiting for Granny so they could make their journey together. Granny said if Gladis had appeared to Bonny she must feel very close to her and she would put it in her will that Bonny was to have the room after she had gone. Bonny felt privileged knowing the story of the spare room but was anxious for her young man because of what had happened to Gladis.
Granny passed away not long after and Bonny and Bob moved into the spare room on their wedding night.
ROOM 13.
The old dilapidated house was so large all the bedrooms were numbered from one to twenty but room thirteen had a keep away from me look about it In fact it had a sinister look because of the number thirteen superstitions which didn’t invite anyone to go in. Why would they anyway with all those other rooms to choose from. Not that anyone bothered. The inhabitants of the house were as equally old and dilapidated as the house itself. Three sisters, all a little crazy, lived there with their also weird brother Arnold. There were no other relatives and they never had any visitors, not even tradesmen.
The four siblings were quite young when
their parents were killed in a car accident. The father was a very successful business man and had acquired a large fortune. He had trained his son well to follow in his footsteps. When the parents were alive the house was kept spick and span and lots of parties were held there. The three sisters were quite attractive and each had suitors. Because of their wealth the three girls were always well chaperoned but even so life was good for them.
After the parents died the young son who was in his early twenties, took his role of man of the house very seriously. He had been made executor of the estate and had taken charge of all the finances and running of the business and running of the house. The girls did not have much worldly experience so they were happy to allow their brother Arnold to organise everything for them.
Arnold viewed every young man who called on the girls with great suspicion and warned the girls that they were probably after their money. With this attitude the callers became less and less and eventually stopped altogether. The girls were sad about this but as Arnold kept saying, the young men were only visiting because of the money. The girls accepted this as Arnold was always right and they settled down to a