Haunted Mansion - part two

In this post I'm taking a look at 50 Berkeley Square. Now, I don't know if this was the influence behind the name of 'The Ghosts of Berkeley Square' but if it's not then that's a bit coincidental, don't you think?

Berkeley Square sits in Mayfair, Central London, in a highly exclusive area. In the middle is a large green space around which is ranged the houses. Within walking distance is Hyde Park, The Mall, St James's Palace and Buckingham Palace.

It feels like a wildly unlikely place to find a haunting, amidst the bustle of life in the capital.

Charles Harper in Haunted Houses, published in 1907 stated that

“… It seems that a Something or Other, very terrible indeed, haunts or did haunt a particular room. This unnamed Raw Head and Bloody Bones, or whatever it is, has been sufficiently awful to have caused the death, in convulsions, of at least two foolhardy persons who have dared to sleep in that chamber…”

The challenge of sleeping in the haunting room was taken up by an unnamed man. A little after midnight, the bell the man had agreed to ring, to summon assistance was heard. Rushing to his aid, his friends found him rigid with terror, unable to tell them what he had seen. He died shortly afterwards.

The house remained empty for a number of years but not necessarily uninhabited. Passers-by told of flickering lights, disembodied screams, and the sound of a body being dragged down the stairs.

The source of the haunting was speculated to be the brother of a former owner, Mr Du Pre. This poor unfortunate was locked in a room for his own safety and was reputedly fed through a hole in the door.

Another contender was a gentleman by the name of Myers who was jilted at the altar and took to be a recluse. The sound of footsteps could be his as he wanders the house by candlelight.

In more recent times, people in the building have experienced the sense of something standing behind them, only finding nothing there.

An employee working in the accounts department of a firm that had the haunted room, reported seeing a column of brown mist that moved quickly across the room.

In my forthcoming novel HIGH SPIRITS, stories abound of lights seen flickering from room to room and local legend tell of a ghostly curator who prowls the Hall at night searching for his lost treasure.

Excerpt

Tommy Pearson was having a good few days off work. He had been in the pub since lunchtime and was now strolling through the park, taking a shortcut to his digs at the lower end of town.

He felt particularly mellow on this warm evening. He’d played the fruit machines and won, got a girl’s phone number, and was looking forward to a lie in tomorrow. Life was sweet.

As he passed by the mansion, he glanced up and saw a light moving from window to window, and his beer-addled brain suddenly recalled something he’d recently read. His first instinct was to run and, always being one to follow his gut; he did just that.

Official Release Date!!

High Spirits - where it all began

Growing up in England during the seventies meant three television channels – BBC1, BBC2 and Southern (in the days when independent TV was very regionalised).

Saturdays meant two of those three precious channels were taken up with sports. BBC1 hosted Grandstand whilst on Southern it was World of Sport. Both comprised of several hours of wrestling, horse racing, football, motor racing etc. I guess it wasn't all so corporate big money back in those days!

All this meant that BBC, for me, not being a sports fan, was the go-to place and usually Saturday afternoon meant a film.

It was here that I discovered my love of the Ealing comedies, of Laurel and Hardy, of Gene Kelly musicals, of Powell and Pressburger.

My favourite films though, were the ones that had a bit of the supernatural about them. I just loved ghosts. Not scary ones but romantic, comedy, spine-tingling ghosts.

To celebrate the upcoming publication of my next novel HIGH SPIRITS, I'm going to take you on a tour of my favourite ghostly films from those lazy Saturday afternoons.

Today, it's The Ghosts of Berkeley Square

For me, this is the one that most inspired the ideas behind High Spirit.

Starring Robert Morely as General 'Jumbo' Burlap and Felix Aylmer as Colonel 'Bulldog' Kelsoe, in this 1947 whimsical comedy about two 18th century officers who end up killing themselves after an elaborate plan to capture the Duke of Marlborough (and stop a war) goes terribly wrong.

Incurring the wrath of Queen Anne, the two hapless ghosts are condemned to haunt the house in Berkeley Square until a monarch crosses the threshold.

Both, naturally, blame each other for the whole thing and for many years refused to speak to each other. Realising that the only way to break the curse is to get another monarch to visit, they resolve their quarrel and set about hatching a plan.

Over the decades the house changes use and occupants including a French bordello, home to a harem, a theatre, a hospital and an officers' club.

Finally, when the house is bombed during an air raid, Queen Mary visits the damaged property and the two ghosts are released to take their place in the afterlife.

I think what I loved about this film was the affection that the two characters had for each other. Despite spending 66 years not speaking, it was clear that they couldn't be without each other even if they do communicate by writing notes!

The Madam who runs the bordello is aware of her guests and is not afraid of them and they have a ball with the girls and playing cards.

With each new tenant the unfortunate pair believe that a royal visit will happen and each time it is the ghosts themselves that cause the problem. The pair bicker and fall out, try and scare off newcomers and, every now and then they materialise to mingle with the tenants – such as the men in the Officer's Club (until they get rumbled). This ghostly Odd Couple play for laughs as they watch the times change in their old home whilst manipulating the lives of the tenants to get a Royal Visit.

The Ghosts of Berkeley Square is a film of its time so, rather sadly there is casual racism and a lot of jingoism.

Excerpts from High Spirits:

Page 27-28

'Through the quiet of the evening, Billy did his rounds, checked that all the doors and windows were secure, that nothing was inside that shouldn’t be, and read his paper. The occasional noise reached his ears – a tap, a knock, a thump, and he shook his head and smiled to himself. Some nights the noises were louder and more frequent, and he thought that maybe there was another spat going on.'

Page 107-108

Seventy-odd years had elapsed since that momentous night when Alec and Jean had lost their lives, and for them, the time had passed slowly. A minute was still sixty seconds and sixty minutes still formed an hour. They witnessed the sun rise and set and the summer pass to autumn and onto winter and into spring - the eternal rhythms of the world. For them, however, it was like the slow ticking of a clock in an empty room, and sometimes it felt as loud. They could ‘see’ the world as it came to them, although the tones were muted, like an old photograph. They could ‘hear’ the excited chatter of schoolchildren who visited on an almost daily basis with their harassed helpers and dog-eared workbooks. They could even ‘smell’ the accumulation of time and arrested decay in the stores or the ‘perfume’ of old books as the paper, ink and glue broke down. Nevertheless, they were completely alone.

Page 58-59

“Well, well, well, old boy. This is going to be interesting.”

“I hope he has a good word to say about me. He was a right little so and so when he was a boy.”

“I wouldn’t know. I never met him!”

“You didn’t miss much!”

“Come on, let’s go and enjoy the character assignation.”

“If we must.”

“Do I have too?”

“Yes, you can come and hear what Alec was really like!”

“I’ve always been charming, Pol, don’t you listen to her!”

Meet Alec, Jean and Pol

I’m immensely excited to finish my second full-length novel HIGH SPIRITS which will be released on Amazon on 6 January 2018.

High Spirits was born of two things – 26 years of working in museums and castles and a love of the old black and white Saturday afternoon movies featuring romance and ghosts.

Working in old buildings brings a real sense of the past to the fore and spending time in the rooms and halls, one cannot help but wonder what, if anything, has remained behind and what they would make of life as they see it all change and pass before them.

It would be lovely to sit down and chat with them, to ask them what they thought of it all. So, that’s what I’m doing today. I’d like to introduce you to my guests on this post: Alec Edwards, Jean Francis and Pol.

Lisa Dyer: Alec Edwards, sometime assistant curator of Partridge Hall in the sleepy town of Plimpton Market. I think it’s fair to say that you had been an enthusiastic collector of artefacts from being a young lad?

(Now, I’d just like to point out, that Alec does like to smoke his pipe, even though he can’t actually smoke any more, so if you hear ‘putt-putt’ noises, that’s what he does when he’s thinking hard!)

LD (cont’d): And, of course, you had the good fortune to be taken on at the museum in a sort of schoolboy/apprentice role.

AE: Ah, yes (sitting back in his chair and fishing in his pocket for his pipe and tobacco pouch).

Jean Francis: Really Alec, do you have to do that here?

AE: Oh, come on girl, nobody’s going to mind.

JF: Well, I mind! Always puffing on that infernal thing!

LD: You were saying, Alec.

AE: Yes, right, well, in those days the museum was run by a very kindly gentleman by the name of Frank Wilson. He encouraged me to bring what I found to the museum. When I got a bit older, he took me on in a sort of unofficial capacity as his assistant; just on a Saturday.

LD: I guess you got hooked?

AE: Did I? Jolly right I did. Then, of course, once I’d finished school. I got a place there full-time. Best years of my life.

LD: Now, Jean, if I may turn to you – you worked for Clipper, Clipper and Broughton as a secretary.

JF: That’s right.

LD: And how did you two meet?

(Jean looks at Alec and her face softens into a smile. Alec reaches out to her and she slips her delicate hand into his).

JF: I was working in the office, right up in the attics but it had a fine view over Partridge Park and, of course the Hall and there he was. Second window from the left, pacing and I remember thinking how grave he looked.

AE: Well, I had important things to think about.

JF: Like what?

AE: Like…well…l was a very busy man!

(Jean laughs and shakes her head)

JF: Anyway, there he was and, well, he didn’t even notice me but then, one day he looked up and looked right at me.

AE: That’s what she says, I don’t recall it myself.

JF: Oh of course you do, you old goat, you just don’t want to admit it was love at first sight.

AE: I have to admit, she was rather beautiful.

JF: Was! Still am, thanks to you!

LD: Hmmm…that’s a good point. What do you recall about your death?

AE/JF: Nothing!

LD: Nothing at all?

JF: We were supposed to be going out that night – why do you think I’m dressed like this?

(for the record, Jean has on a rather fabulous blue satin and tulle dress with tiny flowers, white gloves, and a fake fur stole around her shoulders).

JF (cont’d): Anyway, he was still in those blasted stores of his looking for some kind of axe…

AE: Hand axe, actually!”

JF: Hmmm...anyway, he was showing no signs of moving and Jimmy Jones was singing that night and I so loved to dance…

AE: I’m not sure how many times I can say I’m sorry, my love.

LD: Pol, now, you have been haunting Partridge Hall for a very long time, what do you recall about them dying.

Pol: He’s got humbugs.

LD: Er…sorry?

P: Humbugs. Keeps them in his trouser pocket but he never shares them.

AE: You’re dead; you can’t eat humbugs!

JF: Give it a rest Alec, and give her a humbug!

(Alec fishes in his pocket and brings out a brown paper bag. Pol dips her hand in and pulls out a humbug)

AE: Happy now?

LD: Pol, you are from the time before the Romans, what we call the Iron Age.

P: (to Alec and Jean) Why’s she talking to me like I’m a child?

AE: Because you’re eleven!

P: I was eleven when they arrived. When was that?

AE: AD41.

P: What does AD mean?

AE: Anno Domini

P: What does Anno Domini mean?

LD: Look, can we get back to the question?

(All three stare at me as if I’m asking for the moon)

LD cont’d: Now, Pol you were with the clan that belonged around here.

P: My father was the clan leader. He was a very fierce warrior.

LD: And did you meet the Romans?

P: We slaughtered the Romans and bathed in their entrails.

JF: Pol!

AE: She’s being scandalous. Ignore her. Though, there was a local garrison here and her lot did slaughter them. In the woods by Roman Camp.

P: And bathed in their entrails.

AE: There was no entrail bathing.

P: Were you there?

(Alec lets out a big sigh and begins to prepare his pipe).

LD: So, Jean, how did you feel being trapped inside the museum.

JF: Furious! Absolutely furious! Never been in the place until I met him and now, here I am, doomed to roam the corridors forever.

AE: You’re not doomed, not be so dramatic.

JF: Well, what would you call it?

AE: Heaven!

(Jean wasn’t impressed with this idea. She turns her back on Alec and fluffs the skirts of her dress before resting her elbow on the back of the chair and placing her chin on her cupped hand).

LD: Let me ask, if you had the chance, if someone could ‘move you on’ would you take it?

Jean swivels back round and looks at Alec and Pol. For a moment something passes between them and then all three burst out laughing.

AE: Good Lord, where did you get such a daft idea?

JF: And leave our friends, Bethan, Sal, Billy and Patrick?

P: Get real!

JF: Pol, do stop using modern parlance, it’s so coarse!

LD: And you don’t mind that I’ve written a book about you?

JF: Heavens no! We loved sharing our death with you – who wouldn’t?

AE: She’s being sarcastic.

LD: I’m getting that. Well, too bad, the book is out on January 6th.

P: I’m I in it?

LD: Well, of course you are, and Bethan, Sal, Patrick and Billy and, they get to dance around the Beltane Fire.

P: Cool!

AE: What did you say it was called again?

LD: High SpiritsHere’s the cover.

AE: Very nice but I don’t look a bit like that!

JF: No, far too suave for Alec. You should have got someone in a brown suit.

P: Why aren’t I on the cover?

AE: Because you’re eleven.

(Oh, dear, they’re bickering again. So, I’m just going to leave them to it).

Haunted Mansion - part one

Who doesn't love a haunted mansion? Well, I guess it depends on your disposition but come on, it's got to get your interest, right?

HIGH SPIRITS is set in Partridge Hall, formerly the home of the family that gave it its name. The last resident, Sir Wolseley Partridge died childlessly and rather than finding an heir amongst his numerous relations, he chose to bequeath his mansion to the town of Plimpton Market.

The mansion became the home of the town museum, acquiring artefacts from the town's lengthy history to fill its rooms.

But Partridge Hall also holds a secret. Hiding within it are three lively spirits – Alec, former assistant curator, who still considers Partridge Hall to his domain and intensely dislikes any changes the present incumbent makes. Jean, his young lady, who had never been in the Hall until she started stepping out with Alec and is most displeased to find that she is spending her eternity there. Finally, there's young Pol, a child from the Iron Age who has seen it all – the land before any settlement, the building of the medieval manor and its replacement with the far grander Hall, and finally its last incarnation as a museum. These three love, laugh and squabble. Are each other's boon companions as the years roll on but occasionally, they get a little fed up with the same old routine.

To celebrate the release of HIGH SPIRTS on January 6 2018, let's take a tour of famously haunted mansions starting with WOODCHESTER MANSION.

Ghosts abound at this unfinished property built over the original house, Spring Park. William Leigh, ran out of money before he could complete the project and the building remained in the family until 1938 when it was sold.

Sight of a headless horseman and a floating coffin have convinced locals that the estate is haunted.

Inside the property it is as if time has stood still and that all the workmen have downed tools and left for the day. Here, a ‘tall man’ is seen walking along the corridor which leads to the chapel, whilst another man is seen in the doorway of the same chapel looking up at the stained-glass windows.

From the scullery, singing can be heard. Of course, Woodchester was never a home, being unfinished so these spirits must be from the former building, Spring Park. Plans show that the scullery and kitchen for both buildings are in the exact same spot. A young girl has been seen on the staircase but, again, this has to be the stairs from the former home.

On the landing is a sentient ghost, that is, he is aware that he has been seen whilst another is that of a man with a hat.

As well as sensing the presence of 'people' in military uniform- the house was used by US and Canadian soldiers just prior to D-Day, music from the 1940's has been heard. And, some visitors have reported the smell of bacon frying!

In HIGH SPIRITS – Alec has the misfortune to end up in the old scullery of Partridge Hall after he'd accidentally fully manifested corporeal after getting his trousers in a twist over a display label.

Unfortunately, for him, he is captured on a multitude of phones and his image is quickly going viral on the internet.

Bethan Andrews, curator, is summoned to the museum by an anxious colleague and arrives to find the street jam-packed with members of the public, eager to get inside to find the ghost for themselves.

Inside, Bethan finds both Jean and Pol out of their wits with worry as to where Alec has disappeared off to after his 'incident'. They finally locate him in the scullery, a dirty old room that now houses the boiler and a multitude of spiders.

Excerpt:

The scullery was situated in the basement and housed the boilers. It was a bit dank with only a half moon window and plenty of cobwebs. The only person who ventured in there was the gas man when he came to read the meter, and that was with extreme reluctance.

Bethan made her way down the narrow back stairs into the basement and opened the first door on the left. It was swollen with damp, and gingerly she felt inside the door for the light, hoping, as she did that she didn’t hit any spiders of which there were many.

In its day, this had been the provenance of the scullery maid, the lowest ranking maid in the servant hierarchy who did the menial jobs such as washing up and other dirty chores deemed beneath the kitchen maids.

As Bethan’s eyes became adjusted to the dim light, she could just make out the old wooden draining board and the deep ceramic sink.

She ventured cautiously down the small flight of creaking stairs and turned around, nearly wetting herself as she did.

In the darkest corner, sitting on an old wooden stool was Alec.

“Alec!” cried Jean and flew over to him.

Pol got there first and threw her spindly arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He patted her arm in a good-natured way, and she let him go.

Alec pulled out his hankie and mopped his brow.

“What happened?” asked Bethan.

“I…I... don’t rightly know,” stuttered Alec who were he alive, may correctly be described as having gone ashen. “All of a sudden, there they all were, the people I mean, looking at me and then, it was like a wrench, and I was here.”

“But why couldn’t I feel you?” Jean was as distraught at finding him as she was of losing him. She crouched down beside him and took his hand in hers.

Alec looked at her fondly. “I don’t know my dear, but I couldn’t feel you either.”

Jean laid her head in his lap and kissed his hand. “Oh, my darling. I thought I’d lost you!”

Alec lifted her face to his and kissed her: “It will take more than this to separate us, my love.”

Next time – 50 Berkeley Square!