A short story by Eva Bielby
“Here, Dad! “Dad, STOP! Right here,
please!” Chloe urged.
Her father’s foot hit the brake and the
car came to a grinding halt.
“Here? Are you sure, darling? Why
here?”
“See over there?” Chloe waved her hand
to indicate the stunning scenery. “There’s a gorgeous little stream over there,
woods pretty close by, which will be handy for twigs and branches for firewood.
Plus, it’s not too far from the road.”
Elaine and Jenny, her friends, opened
the rear passenger doors and climbed out. After kissing her father goodbye,
Chloe joined them and they pulled the tent, sleeping bags, and backpacks from
the boot.
Chloe’s father lowered the driver’s
side window for a few final words.
“Your Dad will be picking you up late
afternoon tomorrow, Elaine. Is that right?”
“Yes! He’ll be here for us, Mr Jackson.
Don’t worry.” Elaine reassured him.
“Please be careful when lighting fires.
Have you got fully charged pho…?”
“Yes, Dad. And a solar charger. We’re seventeen,
not five. Stop stressing… and go.” Chloe butted in. She turned her back on the
car rolling her eyes as her father pulled away.
“Bloody Hell! We’ve grabbed the fourth
sleeping bag. We’ll have to take it with us now. Never mind.” Chloe cursed.
“Damn. I sure wish Charlie was with us,
though. What a time for her to pick up that stomach bug.”
The other girls muttered in agreement.
Together they picked up the baggage and set off to haul it twenty yards back down
the road and through a well-worn gap in the hawthorn hedge. Making their way
across the field, they occasionally stumbled with the heavy load, the terrain
being so uneven.
“Hey, Elaine, how is your Dad going to
find us tomorrow? He doesn’t know where we are.”
“He’ll find us, trust me. He’s put one
of those tracker apps on my phone. We tried it out a couple of days ago. It
works.”
Half an hour later, they’d located an
ideal spot by the stream, the tent was up (despite their hysterical laughter)
and had ventured into the woods to collect suitable dry material for the
campfire.
Back at camp, they sat and devoured the
sandwiches and snacks which Chloe’s Mum thoughtfully and lovingly prepared for
them. Chloe recalled the conversation.
“It’ll save you doing too much in the
way of cooking!”
“Other than breakfast, we won’t be
cooking, Mum.”
“Then what will you eat?”
“Snacks, nibbles, cookies and things.
It won’t hurt us to miss a cooked meal or two, will it? We’ve got sausages,
eggs and bacon ready in the cool-box.”
They lit the fire at eight pm. It was mid-May
and though the days were very warm, the temperatures could plunge dramatically
in the early evening. The girls shivered as they took turns to add more twigs
to the already glowing tinder.
“Oh look, there’s a girl heading this
way,” said Elaine, pointing her finger. “I wonder where she’s going…”
Chloe and Jenny turned to look. The
girl headed towards them. When she was twenty five yards away, the stranger
waved at them. They returned the gesture.
“Hi!” Elaine shouted. “What are you
doing out here, walking alone?”
“Hello. I’m just heading home. I live
in Doulton, four miles away. It’s a small village.”
Now close up, the girl watched on as
they continued to feed what was fast becoming a roaring fire. She looked to be
of a similar age to the rest of them and quickly became involved in their continuous
chit-chat. Elaine in particular, found the girl endearing,
“Are your parents expecting you home
soon? If not, you’re welcome to stay for the night. We have a spare sleeping
bag. We sit around the fire and tell spooky tales after dark. We have to guess whether
the stories are true or false.”
“My parents won’t be expecting me home
until tomorrow. I’d enjoy that very much. Thank you. I suppose I’d better
introduce myself properly. I’m Sharon.”
Once the full round of introductions were
complete, the girls settled around the fire until darkness closed in. Twigs
were drawn to decide who would be the first to start the tales.
Jenny went first and her story of how
she was abducted by aliens as a five year old came in for plenty of scorn and
derision from the others as they all declared the tale “FALSE!”
Chloe was up next and regaled the girls
with her story of a haunted bedroom in a local nursing home. The stream of old
ladies who had resided in that particular room, all reported to staff that any
pink items were constantly flung around or smashed in their absence. As her
audience gawped at her, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, Chloe claimed the ghost
story to be true.
The girls waited in anticipation for
Sharon’s contribution to the evening. She glanced around at their faces and began
her narrative.
“Okay! Three years ago there was a girl
killed in a motorbike accident about five hundred yards back on that stretch of
road over there. Her boyfriend survived the accident, though he suffered
multiple injuries. He now spends his life in a wheelchair.
Apparently, Steve, the boyfriend, remembers
losing control of the bike around a fairly sharp bend. It veered off the road
and crashed into an oak tree. Immediately before impact, he tilted his body to
the side. That’s why one leg was smashed up against the tree. He also recalls
trying to brake but his bike seemed to be accelerating. Seventy miles per hour
he said. Anyway, she lost her life and Steve hardly has much to say to anyone
these days.”
“Oh God! How terribly sad.” remarked
Elaine. “But is that it, Sharon?”
“No. There’s more. The girl had
confided in her friends about her relationship with Steve. She told them she
heard several rumours doing the rounds through friends of friends, his
workmates and so on, that Steve was seeing another girl. Also, she related that
he’d acted ‘cool’ towards her and skipped several dates. He’d call and make
various pathetic excuses for being unable to see her.”
Chloe was incensed.
“Oh, yes! Standard practice for a guy
who’s cheating. Poor girl. Sorry! Carry on, Sharon.”
“That’s alright, Chloe. So, one of the
girl’s friends, Jo, happened to know that on the night of the accident, the
girl planned to catch a bus from Doulton to Hemmersley, which she did. She was
hoping to find Steve exactly where he said he would be – out with his mates in
their usual hangout. Steve was there, not only with his buddies, but with a blonde.
Her arms were draped around Steve’s shoulders. Anyway, she tackled him about
his cheating, and was broken-hearted. Her sobs eventually died down and she allowed
him to comfort her. He told his friends that he was taking her home on his
motorbike. They watched on as the pair climbed on the bike and sped off. The female
he had been with, also witnessed the upsetting scene and rapidly disappeared,
in what the lads called ‘a stonking mood’.
And…and that’s it really, girls. You
already know how it ends. It’s true. She…she lived in my village.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
Sharon’s sad story somewhat dampened
the mood, but as the last embers of the fire died out, Elaine told an extremely
far-fetched and rather rude story about the wicked fairies and gnomes who lived
in her father’s orchard. The other girls were thrilled and were still falling
about with laughter long after they climbed into their sleeping bags, Elaine
still attempting to convince them that it was true!
On waking the following morning, Sharon
bade them all goodbye and resumed her homeward journey after turning down their
offer of breakfast. It was a glorious warm and sunny day so the girls launched
themselves into the stream, paddling in the shallows and swimming in the deeper
parts. After partaking of their snacks around lunchtime, they packed up the
tent and other paraphernalia before traipsing through the woodland. Five
o’clock came all too soon and Elaine’s father arrived to collect them from the
roadside. It had been their first night of freedom – alone without parents.
Three
Days Later
Chloe, Jenny and Elaine left college
early. They had no lectures that afternoon so they ventured into town. Both
Jenny and Elaine needed a new study book. Chloe had already purchased a copy. In
the bookshop she sauntered away to peruse the paranormal section and soon joined
the girls at the checkout queue.
“Hey! Look what I’ve found, girls. It’s
the latest – Volume Four of North Yorkshire Spooky Stories.”
“You and your damn ghost stories!
You’ll become one eventually! Jenny laughed.
Next stop was the coffee shop. Jenny
and Elaine chatted as they sipped their Cappuccinos. Chloe’s head however, was
already buried in her new book as she flipped over the pages, totally oblivious
to her friends.
“Oh. My. God.” exclaimed Chloe.
“Listen. Listen. There’s a story about a girl, well, a ghost really. She haunts
a stretch of road between Hemmersley and Doulton hitch-hiking when there’s a
lone motorcyclist. As they approach the bend the riders report her hand gripped
tight over theirs to open up the throttle. Quite a few of them. They’ve been
lucky each time in gaining back control and avoiding an accident. This must be
the girl Sharon told us about.”
Jenny stood.
“Come on! Quick! Let’s get to the
library before it closes.”
They abandoned their coffees and bolted
from the bookstore and down the high street.
“Why Jenny?” shouted Elaine as she
panted, trying to keep up.
“You’ll see!” Jenny shouted back over
her shoulder.
Ten minutes later they were ensconced
around one of the library’s PCs with Jenny’s fingers flying over the keyboard.
A website appeared on screen for the Daily Yorks and Jenny clicked on the tab
for Archives. She typed ‘Motorbike Accidents’ in the search bar and ‘2-4 years’
for the dates. It didn’t take long before a headline appeared GIRL KILLED IN
MOTORBIKE SMASH – BOYFRIEND SURVIVES. Alongside the story was a picture – a
picture of Sharon. The article went on to give her name, Sharon Cook and that
of Steve – Steven Howie.
“It’s her! It’s Sharon!”
“But…but she was real…wasn’t she?” Elaine
stammered.
“She…she was going home,” whispered
Jenny.
Eva Bielby
Eva Bielby was born in North Yorkshire in the Northeast of England. She has spent over thirty years of her working life as a company accountant. Eva has a keen interest in spiritualism/mediumship and has attended several workshops to develop her skills further. During her quieter moments, Eva enjoys a cryptic crossword, sudoku, and gardening.
