CHAPTER 3 - DANCER’S WELL
Grandad stopped, rummaged in his pocket and took out a tissue, but he didn’t blow his nose or sneeze. He just began to tear it, slowly, as he talked, letting the little pieces of tissue float down to the floor.
“The dancer was a girl called Deirdre, who lived long, long ago, long before the time when water came out of a tap, a time when water used to be carried from a well.
Deirdre had thick, black, wavy hair, a light crop of freckles across both her white cheeks, and a smile that everyone loved to see. She was a happy girl who loved to dance, and her dancing was so beautiful that it could make even the most miserable old soul feel happy.
One day, when she was drawing water from the well, the sun was shining down the mountains, and she could feel the rays heating her cheeks. She felt warm and alive as never before, and she smiled to herself as she pulled the rope and watched the bucket full of fresh spring water climb slowly up the sides of the well.
Once the bucket reached the top safely, she put it down on the ground. She was looking forward to getting home. She had learned of some new dance steps and was happy at the thought of being free to spend her evening dancing.
She was about to take up her bucket and carry it home when a thought climbed into her mind. From where this thought came, nobody will ever know, but it was a mischief of a thought, and it was this mischief of a thought that made Deirdre decide to climb up on the rim of the well, and dance around the narrow edge.
At first, she danced very, very slowly, and very, very carefully, but the more she danced, the more she forgot to be slow, and the more she danced, the more she forgot to be careful.
There was no music to be heard, mind you, except in Deirdre’s head, and the music in Deirdre’s head was fast and loud, and the very vibrations travelled through Deirdre’s body and down to her feet.
Even if she had wanted to stop dancing, she could not; her feet were slaves to the music in her head, and there was nothing she could do to stop the music in her head from playing – louder and faster.
Soon, Deirdre was dancing like she had never danced before. A farmer tending to his sheep looked across the fields and saw her. Now she was dancing above the well, soaring through the air, like a beautiful dancing cloud.
When the town gathered at the church later that night, the farmer told them all she looked as though there were fairy wings attached to her heels as she danced through the sky, and that very same farmer almost cried as he described how those fairy wings stopped as suddenly as they began, and to his horror he saw Deirdre falling from the air, all the way down to the very bottom of the well.
The farmer rushed to the well, but it was so deep he could see nothing of Deirdre. He called for help and the town came out in force, but there was nothing they could do. She had disappeared and poor Deirdre the dancer was never seen again, never!”
At this point in the story, Grandad had his head in his hands as though finally letting his secret out hurt his brain.
“She may not have been seen, but she was heard! Many a dark night had its silence broken by the sound of poor, lost Deirdre crying out in loneliness for someone to come and dance with her. “Dance with me … Dance with me … Dance with me.”
Grandad’s voice got so quiet that I had to lean forward to hear him. For once, I might have been just a little bit too scared. To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded if Grandad had stopped telling me this story, and maybe saved the rest for daylight, but instead, he kept going.
“And as for poor Sean, that night, when he got lost among the Seven Hills, and saw the Dancer’s Well, his eyes must have turned crossways and back. And when he heard the call of Deirdre the Dancer, his heart must have thundered in his ears and his hair must have stood up on end.
He tried to run, but something, or someone, came behind him, and pushed him, hard, and Sean fell right down, deep into the bottom of the well. At that very moment, a ferocious storm rose from the Atlantic, as though sent from the very pits of the bad place. It lifted the thatched roofs from the village cottages and blew them far away, deep into County Clare.
The noise of the wind was said to be louder than the screams from the bad place! Yet even so, Sean’s screams were so loud, you could hear them above the wind.
Again, everyone in Ballyyahoo came running to help. They brought ropes, ladders, and chains and lowered them into the well. The ladder wasn’t long enough and the chain rattled and clanked until it broke, but Sean was a determined young lad, much like you. He tied the rope around his waist. Three strong men were pulling and pulling, but there wasn’t a budge out of Sean.
More men came, and more, and more. The strongest men in the land came, and they all tried to pull poor Sean out of that well. But they pulled till the blood vessels burst in their heads; they pulled till the shirts on their backs, ripped and tore.
The pulling went on for days and days, but Sean did not move an inch, not a single solitary inch. You see, young lad, there was something stronger than those men in the well with Sean.
Something stronger than the strongest man in the land, and that strength belonged to the ghost of Deirdre the Dancer. She would never be lonely again. She had found someone to dance with and she would never let him go, never!”
Grandad’s voice got quieter, and he almost whispered the following words:
“Poor Sean is still there now, dancing with Deirdre, dancing forever in Dancer’s Well.”
All of a sudden, he blew the candle out, and the room went so dark it was as though the light had been sucked out by a nightmare.
A girl’s voice filled the room … “Dance with me … Dance with me … Dance with me.”
I shouted, and jumped back in fright. As quick as a flash the light went on and Grandad was standing there with a surprised look on his face.
“What’s wrong with you at all, young lad? Sure, I thought you weren’t scared of anything?”
“I heard something, Grandad, I heard Deirdre calling …”
Grandad just shook his head and with that, my mother came running in the door.
“Sean! Thank God you’re safe. I was worried sick! I thought I’d never see you again.”
There were huge tears in her eyes, and I knew she must have been really, really worried.
Grandad wiped her eyes and said, “I don’t think he’ll be running off again. I think the young lad has had his fill of ghost stories, haven’t you, lad?”
I could hardly speak; all I could do was nod. My mother grabbed my arm and marched me all the way back home. I’d never seen her walking so fast before. It was still a little bit dark, so maybe she was a little bit scared.
As for me, I couldn’t wait to get home. I felt weird, as though something bad was going to happen. I couldn’t wait to check if the ivy leaf was okay and when I got in I ran straight to my room.
For a moment, I thought there was a dark spot on the ivy leaf and that I was doomed, but it was just a tiny dapple of light from a sunray that shone through the crack in the curtains. The ivy leaf was okay, and I was okay!
I pulled the curtains wide open. I’d had enough of dark nights, and I was relieved to see day breaking as normal. It seemed as though nothing had changed. At least that’s what I thought, until I looked in the mirror and saw my hair. Something had changed. My curls were gone, and now my hair was as straight as straight could be.
The legend of Dancer’s Well had touched me, even though I had never been. One day, I would go there. One day, I would see Dancer’s Well for myself, but not today, and not tomorrow. One day.
THE END
P.S. If you enjoyed this book flick to the next page to learn how to get another book, totally free!
Best wishes
Grace
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MORE STORIES FROM BALLYYAHOO
THE WITCH OF BALLYYAHOO
If you like witches and you like fun, you'll love this very funny story set in the tiny town of Ballyyahoo.
AVAILABLE FROM ALL GOOD ONLINE RETAILERS
When Gerry hears the rumour of the Witch of Ballyyahoo, he wonders if it could be true.
Then he sees strange goings on in the quiet lanes of Ballyyahoo, and learns that a crime is about to happen.
It is not the sort of crime that usually happens in Ballyyahoo - nothing to do with donkeys, lights, or hazelnuts.
No, it’s a terrifying crime that starts with a big knife, a big burglar, and that might just end in murder. Gerry desperately tries to save the day. But he realizes that only one person can help him now, and that’s the witch of Ballyyahoo.
But is there really any truth in the rumour of The Witch Of Ballyyahoo?
CHRISTMAS IN BALLYYAHOO
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Ballyyahoo is a tiny, magical town in Ireland. Christmas in Ballyyahoo was going to be the best one ever, until Santa and Rudolph show up on Christmas Eve and take all the presents away!
It’s up to Kevin and Gerry, to save Christmas. The boys set off on their bikes, desperately seeking Santa, but when they get lost in the woods near the terrible town of Ballyuseless, Kevin and Gerry begin to wish they’d stayed at home.
Santa and Rudolph are not all they appear to be, and they have no intention of wishing anyone a happy Christmas, especially not anyone from Ballyyahoo. The only thing they want to wrap up for Christmas is Kevin and Gerry!
When the two boys find themselves locked in a box, on a boat, in the middle of the Irish Sea, there’s only one person can help them and that’s the wonderful Witch of Ballyyahoo.
BONKERS IN BALLYYAHOO
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A FUNNY STORY FROM BALLYYAHOO
Gerry Mac and his cousin, Kevin both live in the tiny village of Ballyyahoo on the beautiful west coast of Ireland. The two boys are so bored they get bored being bored.
Gerry likes swinging on a gate but Kevin loves a good prank. Once he let an army of spiders loose in the local pub and he had great craic putting cockroaches on the bread counter at Kelly’s shop.
But, since he got a computer, Kevin’s pranks just got a whole lot prankier. The people of Ballyyahoo are going to see just how much worse those pranks can get!
THE LITTLE BOOK OF SWINGING ON A GATE
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A FUNNY STORY FROM BALLYYAHOO
Gerry Mac lives in the tiny village of Ballyyahoo in the west of Ireland. He’s very lucky that he loves swinging on a gate because he can’t find anything else to do.
Gerry Mac doesn’t like it when grown ups get ideas because they usually involve him getting off the gate and doing some work, so when his mother gets the idea to make him do a hard day’s digging in old Paddy Plant’s garden, it’s no wonder Gerry wants to run away.
Digging in Paddy Plant’s garden is not as boring as Gerry thinks because disaster strikes and it’s up to Gerry to save Paddy.
MORE STORIES FROM GRACE JOLLIFFE
FOOTBALL MAD
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There’s only one thing stopping Football Mad Shane from getting on the football team and that’s his lousy header.
The rest of the lads all laugh at Shane when Coach says one-legged nuns and cross-eyed cats make better headers than he does.
Shane needs to practice at home but when his Dad only wants to read books and his Mum only wants to do Yoga, Shane is forced to take drastic action.
FOOTBALL CRAZY
Football Crazy was originally broadcast on RTE Radio One in Ireland.
A warm and funny story about a close family who love football almost as much as they love each other.
But, when something happens to Grandad everything changes.
AVAILABLE FROM ALL GOOD ONLINE RETAILERS
Jimmy loves going to football matches and playing football with his equally football crazy family.
Then one day something happens to grandad and nobody wants to play football any more. Jimmy is heartbroken but soon realizes it’s up to him to get his family back in the game again.
Set in Ireland, this popular and warm-hearted story about a family in crisis was specially written to help parents raise a sensitive subject with their children as well as being a comforting and funny story for all the family to enjoy.
THE RUNAWAY GRANNY
The Runaway Granny was first broadcast on RTE Radio One in Ireland and is a sensitive and humorous family story about a family in crisis.
AVAILABLE FROM ALL GOOD ONLINE RETAILERS
Natasha’s granny is a very lively woman. She loves playing darts with her local team and she wants to travel and play music in a band. In fact, all granny wants to do is have some fun and adventure.
But Natasha’s mother has a different idea of how a granny should behave. She wants granny to sit by the fire and talk about the good old days while knitting lots of socks!
Then granny disappears and Natasha worries that her family will never be the same again, until one day she gets the chance to visit her granny…
THE TREE HUGGER
First broadcast on RTE Radio One in Ireland - about a girl forced by bullies to make a difficult choice.
AVAILABLE FROM ALL GOOD ONLINE RETAILERS
Everyone’s scared of school bullies, Susan and Leonie. They decide who’s ‘in’ or ‘out.’
Debbie is just as scared as everyone else because she’s ‘in’ and Debbie wants to stay ‘in.’
New girl, Shalmalah is definitely ‘out.’ She doesn’t do her hair right, or wear the right clothes. Shalmalah is different - she doesn’t care what the bullies think but Susan and Leonie do their best to make her life hell.
Debbie doesn’t like seeing Shalmalah getting bullied but with Susan and Leonie you’re either with them or against them and Debbie’s going to have to make a very difficult choice.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Grace was born and brought up in Toxteth, Liverpool. As well as being born in the upstairs bedroom of the house you see in the photograph above, Grace wrote a lot of stories there too.
Her mother was a Liverpudlian and her father an Irish immigrant who took the cattle boat with his brothers to follow the emigration trail to Liverpool in the 1950’s.
The family became returning emigrants when they moved back to Wicklow in Ireland when Grace was a teenager.
Grace now lives with her husband in Galway where she is busy writing and gardening. She writes for adults, as well as children and enjoys both equally.
Her first novel, Piggy Monk Square was originally published by Tindal Street Press and was shortlisted for the Commonwealth Writer’s priz
e.
Grace’s writing has been widely published, in both magazines and newspapers and she has also written for television and film. Grace’s short films have won several awards at film festivals.
LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Reader,
I really appreciate you buying my stories and hope you enjoyed them.
Don't forget to visit Ballyyahoo for free stories, pictures and more.
If you enjoyed reading this book please leave a review.
Thanks a million and best wishes,
Grace
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