Ghost of Stanley Road

Eric made my day last week, there he was out the back yard in Stanley Road, blacking out the windows of the old derelict house he owns and which no one has lived in ever since we've been there, which is coming up to 10 years now.

Told him it looked pretty damn medeival, like a plague house or something. Pepys would have been familiar with it, that's for sure. He said in reply "yeah the ghost won't like it, that's for sure." I kinda asked him staight away, "what, do you think the place is haunted then Eric?", and he replied quick as a flash, "I don't think it, I fucking know it is, and what's more I know who the ghost is as well." An old woman he said, an old woman who lived in the house for many years and then was moved outta there two days before she died.

Gotta say I was happy when he said that, pleased as punch, as it just confirmed for me what I had suspected for quite a while, and that was there was most certainly something there in the shadows of that old house, something that was out of the normal range of things that are perceived in the bright light of day, things like the sun, sky, trees and cats.

Many times I have been out back in the 1st floor warehouse an' i have opened the window, looked out across the yard an' thought that outta the corner of my eye I have seen something, and then it is gone. But quick don't even come close to describing it, 'coz as as soon as I see it, it is long gone. Eric's confirmation to me really was a 'eavens above an' cor blimey knock me down with a feather I kind you not moment.

Thought for a long time the old derelict house was haunted. ain't no doubt about it. Ghost. Just too quick to see. So many times when I have opened the side window I thought or rather felt I have seen something which, quicker than the snap of yer fingers, has disapperead. However that in no way takes away from the sense of presence I had that something was there an' that it was watchin'. My feeling from it is always that it is timid, shy, scared even, and so often that feeling has hit me in the heart. The Tibetan word for heart is "nying" and the Tibetan word for compassion is "nying je" - almost means feeling from the heart or heart feeling. Gotta say that that is always the feeling I get when I encounter the presence of the ghost. A feeling from the heart, a feeling of compassion for it.

So like I said as far as I'm concerned the building next but one along from where I work on Stanley Road is most definitely 100% haunted. Guess maybe the word haunted gives the wrong kinda picture. It ain't a question of long thin wailing spooky shapes flyin' through the air or anything like that. Like I said, it is more a question of presence and of what first appears to be little more than a trick of the eye. Yeah, so many times I have gone out the back for a breather from the crushing monotony of office life, opened the side window and then immediatetly said to myself "hey bro, did I just see something or wot?" So many times over the years, so many times I have asked that question an' now Eric has answered. "Yeah bro, ya most certainly did!"

Best thing about it was listening to the comeplete and utter certainty of Eric. "Think it? I fuckin' know it!" It was like he was talking about what he had seen on TV the night before or something like, so matter of fact it sounded. I mean, Eric ain't the kind of guy to waste his time watchin' or readin' stuff on ghosts or the paranormal or anything like that...no way Jose, he's a Cockney master fixer and our landlord to boot, but all the same you will never be able to shake hiom in his belief that there is a ghost in that old derelict house next to us. Simple mate, is what he will say, there's a ghjost there and that is all there it to it.

When we were talkin' he went on to tell me about the ghosts that there were up in Saffron Walden, loads of ghosts from the English Civil War, Cromwell's ghosts. Lively old ghosts up there in the buildings of Saffron Walden. Tall tales maybe, spook jobs no doubt but ya have to keep ya eyes open all the same.

Funny thing was next day Eric was balcking out another window round the back an' he fell offf his ladder. Bruised his legs and quite ruined his weekend by all accounts. In his mind there was only one culrpit, yeah baby you guessed it, the ghost of Stanley Road.

ghost o' da Stanley
ya doesnae wanna
do no hee hees there
'coz ya might getta bite
in da palm o' ya manly