The Ghost

A Memory of Royston.

My dad, even though married he was one for playing the field. Mother was taking care of my brother's kids (his wife had died, he was a Flight Sargent), Mother was miles away and Dad played about. One afternoon he had picked up a woman and took her home to our house. Passion was running smooth as they were in the kitchen. Suddenly heavy footsteps came up the twenty-odd-feet passageway towards the kitchen door. The sound of footsteps were heavy and distinctive. The woman began to pull up her pants fearing that it could be Mother. Dad explained to her that they were the ghostly footsteps of an old Collier who'd come home from the pit from the day shift in his pit clogs and that when he had got to the middle door, he had just managed to get his hand on the brass knob handle where he then collapsed and died and that the door would not open. Dad told her not to worry and wait and see that he was right. In order to keep her response clean she kind of said 'Not likely' and shot out off the back door. Five years of age, I was to go to bed, we had no electricity in the house and our lights were gaslights which had a mantle globe. The gaslight could be regulated from a bright light or to a very dim light. There were two chains attached to a lever: pull one chain and the other chain would go up something based on as if it were an old style post office weight scales, and this was how one could either turn the brightness or dullness! Anyway I managed to turn down the gaslight which was in dead centre of the bedroom ceiling. I got in to bed and was all set for putting myself to sleep when I saw the bedroom door open; in came a man, he had a long white beard. I lay there on my pillow in astonishment as I saw him approach the side of my bed. I saw him pick up a box of Lego bricks from off the bedside chair. I blinked and then looked again - he had vanished. I fell asleep. The following morning I came down the stairs all excited and told mam that I had seen Santa Claus. Mother smiled at me and asked me what he looked like. I described him the best way I could; she kind of smiled and said 'Hi, you've seen him alright'. Anyway the following early afternoon my married sister Vicky (as she prefers people to call her) had come on a visit. I was upstairs when I heard her saying to my mother that it was only her coming for a quick visit. On hearing her voice I crept down the stairs to try and surprise her (to make her jump with fright). But as I got to the half opened door my mother had started up a conversation where I heard her say that the ghost that she had seen when she was a young lass had shown itself to me and that I thought it was Santa Claus. It was then they saw me at the side of the door. My sister looked down at me and said that I need not worry and that all five sisters and two brothers have seen him and that I had not to be afraid as he would not hurt me. It's not just seeing a ghost in the house, there's been things like Toby Jugs dancing on the shelf of the black-leaded fireplace and having goosebumps.

325 Midland Road was put on the market by the landlord where we were offered to buy it at a cost of £850. in 1959-60. moved from there to Jubilee Terrace. I've not lived in my own town for at least 40 years and have often wondered if there are ghostly goings on within that house? I visited Royston for about an hour; but as I sat in my car looking at the house I shuddered at the thought of knocking at the door. The place was modernized, no more outside toilet and both electricity and gas. This story was only a snippet of what truly happened within the walls of 325, I hated it for what it was. My only prayer is that life is normal for those that live there.

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