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dancin'hamster

Dead Late Home

10 posts in this topic

Another one to read before bedtime........unless you're a wimp like Cuffy tongue.gif

In the autumn of 1979, a man named Frank Haines was driving his Ford Cortina along Queens Drive near Dunbabin Road in the Wavertree district of the city. The time was 1.45 a.m., and the rain was bucketing down. Frank had been to visit his old mother in the Dingle area, and was on his way home. However, his Cortina had a troublesome engine, and whenever Frank stopped at the lights, the car would stall or shudder. This happened on this rainy night. The car pulled up at the traffic lights, and then the engine conked out for a while. Frank had to turn the ignition key again and again to get the car going. Seconds before he was going to move off, a girl came running through the torrential rain, waving at him through the rain-lashed windscreen. She ran up to the Cortina and tapped on the passenger window. Frank saw that the girl looked as if she was about nineteen or twenty years of age. She wore a white rain-soaked tee shirt, a tartan scarf, and a pair of white flares. He leaned over and opened the door, and the girl climbed in the car, slammed the door, and sat in the seat wiping the rain from her face. She had long red hair and a pale freckled face.

"Could you give me a lift home mate?" she asked, and smiled at Frank.

"Do you always jump in strangers' cars like that?" said Frank, getting narky because the engine was playing up again. He turned the ignition key and the engine started. "Where do you want a lift to?" He asked the girl.

"Barnham Drive, please." the girl replied, and gave the number of her house.

"Let me see; where's that?" Frank asked, relieved that the car was moving along once again.

"It's off Childwall Valley Road." said the girl, and she leaned back, let out a sigh, and started singing an old song Frank hadn't heard for years. It was an old Bay City Rollers song called Bye Bye Baby.

"What are you doing out at this time?" Frank asked the girl.

"I've been walking for the last half an hour from Fir Lane through this rain. I hate the rain do you?" the girl replied. Then she said, "What's your name?"

"Frank. What's yours?" Frank said, and he accelerated through a set of traffic lights that were about to turn red. He rushed through them or risked stalling again.

"Kelly." said the girl.

"Well, Kelly, you'll have to direct me to Barnham Drive." Frank drove through the Fiveways roundabout and went down Childwall Valley Road.

"Thanks for the lift Frank. Are you going out your way for me?" said Kelly, and she beamed a smile at the driver.

"Nah, I'm not going out the way; I live over in Court Hey. Now, where do I go now?" said Frank, squinting at the road through the squeaking windscreen wipers.

"Erm, it's on your right here - no, its the next road on the right." said Kelly. Then she tapped Frank on his left leg.

"What?" said Frank, startled.

"Frank, could you do me a favour? But you'll think I'm cheeky." said Kelly.

"What?" said Frank, wondering what the favour was.

"Could you wait outside the house for me, then give me a lift to my mate's in Chelwood Avenue? Could you?" said Kelly, timidly.

"Look, I'm not a bloody taxi driver. I'm dropping you off at your house and that's it." Frank told her, and he turned into Barnham Drive and stopped near the girl's house.

"Please Frank. The girl touched Frank's knee and playfully pinched it, making him smile. Then Kelly pouted and sulked, "Pretty please?"

"Hurry up then. You've got five minutes. If this car doesn't start though, I'll have to walk home." Frank shook his head.

"Ta Frank. I won't be a minute. I'll just tell my Dad I'm staying over at my mate's." Kelly left the car and dashed down the road in the pouring rain. She opened her gate and disappeared behind a hedge as she ran up the path towards the door.

Frank was 33, but looked much younger. He wondered if he was too old to date Kelly. She only looked about twenty at the most. He dismissed the thought from his mind and waited for her to come back. He waited...and waited. Fifteen minutes crawled by, and Frank started to get restless. "That's it, girl; I'm going home." he muttered, then decided to just give Kelly another ten minutes, but the girl still didn't return. Frank surmised that she'd gone to bed, probably because her father had told her she couldn't get into a car with a stranger. Frank started the car up first time and started to drive off. But a few seconds later, the car started to shake and the Cortina shuddered to a halt. Frank tried and tried to get the car to restart, but it just wouldn't budge. He cursed Kelly, and thought, damn it. She imposed on me, now I'll impose on her for help, and Frank marched to Kelly's house and rang the bell. He knew deep down that it was also a good excuse to see Kelly again. She was a very pretty girl, and Frank recalled the way she touched his leg in the car. A silhouette came and looked through the frosted glass. "Who is it?" said a voice behind the door.

"It's me; Frank. Is Kelly there?"

A bolt was drawn back behind the door, and the handle turned. The front door opened, and a man aged about 55 to 60 peered out at Frank.

"Sorry to bother you. Is Kelly there?" Frank asked, dripping wet, and burning with embarrassment.

"Kelly who?" the man asked, suspiciously. Frank suddenly noticed that the man held an Alsatian dog by the collar with the other hand.

Frank told the man about the red-haired girl he'd given a lift to, and the man seemed flabbergasted and badly shaken.

The man said his daughter Kelly had been knocked down in a hit and run incident on Fir Lane four years ago. He was so shaken by the story, he invited Frank in out the rain, and the two men talked into the small hours. Kelly's father showed Frank his photo album of Kelly. She was dressed in tartan and white flares, because her heroes had been the Bay City Rollers, and Frank remembered the song Kelly had sang in his car: Bye Bye Baby. Just before Kelly died, her friend in Court Hey had had an argument with her, and cried her eyes out when she heard that Kelly had died. She kept saying she wished she could say she was sorry to Kelly. Another strange thing happened on that rainy night when Frank called at Kelly's house; the Alsatian dog had been howling all night and kept running up to Kelly's bedroom, where it stared at something and wagged its tail.

It is said that Kelly's ghost still walks up Fir Lane, and has even been seen by police. In 1990, it was reported that a Royal Mail van had swerved to avoid the ghost of a red-haired girl who vanished in the middle of the road.

So..........now I have to drive to Blandford................and back home......in the dark!!

dontgetit.gif

Hammy x x x

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Oi! huh.gif

What do you mean, `wimp?' The word is `wuss', actually. wink2.gif

Actually, Hams, I've heard another phantom hitch-hiker story a bit like this, where the ghost physically interacted with the driver.

In the account, the girl handed the driver money towards his petrol costs. The girl disappeared from the backseat of the car as they reached the destination. But where did the money come from? I'll have to try and find the story.

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"Please Frank. The girl touched Frank's knee and playfully pinched it, making him smile. Then Kelly pouted and sulked, "Pretty please?"

Ghosts, eh? disgusted.gif

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I've heard a similar story where the guy driving the car lends the girl his jacket, and then when he arrives at her house and enquires about her, he is directed to the local cemetary, and sat on her gravestone, neatly folded, is his jacket... dontgetit.gif

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I've heard a similar story where the guy driving the car lends the girl his jacket, and then when he arrives at her house and enquires about her, he is directed to the local cemetary, and sat on her gravestone, neatly folded, is his jacket... dontgetit.gif

Sounds a little dodgy to me, that one. The sting in the tail has urban myth written all over it. A neatly-folded jacket, teleported to, of all things, a grave stone? huh.gif

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In the account, the girl handed the driver money towards his petrol costs.  The girl disappeared from the backseat of the car as they reached the destination.  But where did the money come from? 

That's like a story I remember of Windsor Castle where a guardsman encountered the ghost of a policeman who had succumbed to a heart attack there thirty years before. This figure offered him a cigarette but the guardsman declined. I wonder what would have happened if he'd taken it.

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That's like a story I remember of Windsor Castle where a guardsman encountered the ghost of a policeman who had succumbed to a heart attack there thirty years before. This figure offered him a cigarette but the guardsman declined. I wonder what would have happened if he'd taken it.

Damn! tongue.gif

I was hoping you'd know, Agent! laugh.gif

My theory is that the man in the car, caught up in the experience, imagined (or the ghost/replay/whatever suggested to him) that he'd been handed money. Sort of hypnosis or strong suggestion.

Maybe the Guardsman would have imagined he was smoking a cigarette?

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When I was on local radio in LIverpool, I spoke to a lady who told me about her sons' experience. He was walking home down a well-known suburban shopping street at around 2.00 am, when a tall, dark figure stepped out of a shop doorway and asked him for a light. The figure, a man, took a cigerette out of his pocket and put it in it his mouth. The son had lost his lighter but had a box of matches, so he struck one and held it towards the mans' ciggy. At that moment a taxi approached. As the headlights hit the figure, it disappeared from the feet upwards........leaving the poor witness standing with a burning match, rooted to the spot in terror. He burnt his fingers on the match!!!!!

blink.gif

Hammy x x x

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Sort of hypnosis or strong suggestion.

Maybe the Guardsman would have imagined he was smoking a cigarette?

A shared trance/PSI between a living soul and a dead one? I wonder what the word for that would be?

That's a spooky story, Hammy. rolleyes.gif But you'd feel a right idiot standing there in the headlights with your arm extended towards nothing. laugh.gif

Edited by Agent_21

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Sort of hypnosis or strong suggestion.

Maybe the Guardsman would have imagined he was smoking a cigarette?

A shared trance/ESp between a living soul and a dead one? I wonder what the word for that would be?

Erm...`unlikely?' blush.gif

Just a theory, Agent...

I was hoping you'd come up with a better one.

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