A Ghost at the Vicarage.

            “Of course you know about our resident ghost, don’t you?” asked Mrs. Foley, the housekeeper.
            The Reverend David Armstrong almost choked on his toast. “What! A ghost here in the vicarage? Where?” He looked around nervously. 
He had been delighted to take up his first post as vicar in this picturesque village; however a ghost was more than he had bargained for.
“But then being a vicar, you’ll come across them all the time.” Mrs. Foley continued.
            David swallowed hard. “No. Not all the time Mrs. Foley.” Thankfully, he had never been asked to deal with a ghost. He pushed his plate away, having lost his appetite. “But you haven’t answered my question. Where does this ghost manifest?”
            “It doesn’t exactly manifest,” said Mrs. Foley, thoughtfully. “You just know he’s there. Mind you, he doesn’t bother anyone, he simply moves things
around. But as I said, you’ll be used to ghosts.” She glanced at his plate. “Can I get you some fresh toast, I see yours has gone cold?” 
            “No thank you. I’ve had enough.” The vicar pushed his plate even further away.
            Mrs. Foley bustled out into the kitchen. “I hope you aren’t going to be a picky eater, vicar,” she mumbled. “There’s nothing worse than cooking for a picky eater.”
            David had been afraid of ghosts ever since he’d overheard his Auntie Betty say she often held a conversation with one in her bathroom. He’d never felt comfortable in her house after that.
            Whenever his mother had taken him there for the day, he had kept well away from the bathroom, preferring to wait until he got home. He smiled to himself when he recalled his mother dragging him to the doctor’s, convinced his bladder wasn’t working properly.
“He’s a saucy ghost I’ll say that for him.” David jumped as Mrs. Foley swept into the dining room. “He once smacked my bottom in the middle of the night. I woke with such a start. I could feel it stinging for a long time afterwards.” She rubbed her rear end as she spoke. “Will you be in for lunch today? It’s the Parish Council meeting this morning and they usually go for a pub lunch afterwards. The Reverend Greenwood, God rest his soul, always went with them.”
            “I’ll join them in the pub, Mrs. Foley,” said David quickly. How could she stay so calm? If a ghost had smacked him he’d have packed and left.
            “Very good, vicar, dinner’s at six.”
            “Mrs. Foley, how long has the ghost been in the vicarage?”
            “About fifteen years I think.” She scratched her head. “It was before my time, but I believe it began one night when the drama group was here.” She pulled up a chair and sat down.
“Yes, that’s right. The drama group was meeting here because of a power failure in the church hall. The Reverend Johns was vicar then. I understand he was called out on an errand of mercy; something to do with a previous vicar, I think.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “Anyway while he was out, the group decided to hold a séance. Apparently a number of spirits came through and then disappeared again. But one liked it here so much he decided to stay. He’s hung around ever since.”  
“I see,” said the vicar, thoughtfully. “What did Reverend Johns say when he got back?”
            “They didn’t tell him. He wouldn’t have approved. The church is against that sort of thing, isn’t it?”
David nodded vigorously in agreement. He certainly was.
“Anyway,” she continued. “If he did try to exorcise him it didn’t work, because he’s still here. Reverend Johns was given another parish shortly afterwards and then Reverend Greenwood took over. Well, vicar, I can’t sit here gossiping all morning I’ve work to do.”
Mrs. Foley jumped to her feet. “Don’t worry, vicar, he’s really very friendly. Besides you won’t know he’s here half the time. Reverend Greenwood used to read his sermons to him; he always said the ghost was a good listener.”
            “If the ghost didn’t manifest, how did the reverend know he was there?” David was intrigued.
            “Like I said, you just know. You can feel his presence.” 
            Mrs. Foley was about to leave the room, when she noticed David looking around. “Don’t worry; he’s not here at the moment, vicar. It’s such a lovely morning he’s probably gone out for a walk.”
            Everything went well that day; the villagers made David very welcome. After lunch he called at the village school and then he dropped in on
the Mothers Union meeting in the church hall. Finally he met Janet Anderson,
a pretty young lady, who ran the youth club. She was painting the clubhouse. He found himself rather attracted to her.
Walking back to the vicarage, he felt very pleased with how the day had gone and was looking forward to his dinner. However drawing near, he was reminded of the ghost and it was with a heavy heart that he opened the door and went inside.
            The steak pie was delicious; there was no doubt Mrs. Foley was an excellent cook. However David couldn’t do it justice. He kept glancing around the room, half expecting to see the ghost.
            All too soon it was time for bed. What if things started moving around his room? What if he saw the ghost? He would have preferred to stay at the guesthouse in the village, but what would Mrs. Foley think?
            He made his way up to his room and undressed; carefully hanging his coat on the hook behind the door. Then he placed his keys, watch and other small items on the dressing table and finally, fearing he may need it in a hurry, he draped his dressing gown across the bed. After a further glance around the room, he climbed into bed. Though he doubted he would sleep, he soon drifted off and was only awoken when the alarm rang out the next morning. 
Sitting up he looked around the room and was horrified to find his dressing gown had been moved to the hook behind the door. Getting out of bed, he found his coat hanging neatly in the wardrobe, while his watch and keys had all been moved to his bedside cabinet. Memories of his Auntie Betty flooded back.
Just then Mrs. Foley called out telling him breakfast was almost ready. He washed and dressed quickly before rushing downstairs. One look at the vicar’s face told Mrs. Foley the ghost had been up to his tricks again. “He called in on you last night then?”
            “Yes,” David replied weakly. “My dressing gown, coat, watch and keys, were all moved. I never heard a thing.”
            She smiled. “You’ll get used to him, vicar. He’s just mischievous.”
David wasn’t sure he wanted to get used to him; he was tempted to see the Bishop about being moved to another Parish. However, requesting a move after only two days would look bad on his record, but, on the other hand, he didn’t feel up to sharing his home with a ghost, mischievous or otherwise. Surely the bishop would empathize with that.
He ate his breakfast merely to please Mrs. Foley; at the moment food was the last thing on his mind.

            “What are your plans for today, vicar?”
            “I’ll write my sermon this morning.” He tried to sound calmer than he felt. “This afternoon I may visit the youth club again. Perhaps I could help Miss Anderson with the painting.”
            “Yes, Janet is an attractive young woman, isn’t she?”
            The vicar blushed. “Yes… I see I can’t fool you, Mrs. Foley.”
            After breakfast David opened the door to his study and peered inside. Propping the door open with a heavy book from the shelf, he walked across to the desk and began to prepare his sermon. 
            After about an hour, he had the strangest feeling that someone was peering over his shoulder. However, looking around, he could see no one. He would like to have run out of the room, but his legs wouldn’t move.
            Then he noticed that the door was firmly closed and the book, which had held it open, was back on the shelf. He panicked; yelling out for Mrs. Foley.
            The housekeeper ran in. “What is it, vicar... ” She paused. “Yes, he’s here. I told you, he likes sermons.”
            David broke out in a cold sweat. His heart was pumping so loudly he felt sure Mrs. Foley would hear it. Taking some deep breaths, he sat down, his legs unable to support him any longer.
            “It’s all right, vicar,” said Mrs. Foley. “He’s gone. He probably doesn’t like being disturbed.”
            I know exactly how he feels, David thought, wiping his brow. He tried to compose himself. “Thank you, Mrs. Foley. I’ll be all right now.” Once the housekeeper had left, David opened the window and gulped in the fresh air. What was he going to do?
            Later that afternoon he called on Janet. She looked genuinely pleased to see him, and instantly accepted his offer of dinner one evening. Now if only he could get this ghost problem sorted out, everything would be wonderful.
For the next few days, David spent as little time as possible in the vicarage. He wrote his sermon in the church and ate out so often, Mrs. Foley asked if he didn’t like her cooking. Nevertheless, his nights were still spent in the vicarage, something he had come to dread.
One night, as he sat in bed reflecting on the wonderful evening he’d spent with Janet, he saw a puff of smoke. Believing it to be a fire, he was about to call Mrs. Foley when the smoke took on a human form.
David’s heart pounded, as he began to make out the features of an old man. Realising it was the ghost he tried to get out of bed, but was unable to move.
The ghost smiled and David shrank under the covers.
“Who are you? What do you want?” he croaked.
            “I’m sorry. It didn’t mean to frighten you. My name is Alan Wright; I was once vicar in this village. I died some fifteen years ago, Reverend Johns attended me. But on my way to the next world, I was caught up with a happy bunch of spirits on their way here. I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I couldn’t believe my luck. You see, I loved this village, the people, everything… It was just so wonderful to be back.” He bowed his head. “I know it was wrong, but I’ve hung around ever since.” The ghost moved across to the window. “But I’m told it’s time to move on.”
            David pinched himself, wondering if he was dreaming. Glancing around, he saw that his things had been moved again.
            The ghost laughed. “I’m sorry about that. That’s where I left my things; it’s force of habit…” He broke off. “My time grows short, I must go. You won’t see me again. But I know you’ll take care of my flock.”
            David nodded. “Of course I…” But the ghost was gone. Looking around, he saw that his belongings had been returned to their rightful place. He sunk down under the covers, reflecting on all that had taken place.
            Reverend Alan Wright; David recalled reading that name on the board inside the church. He had been a vicar for a great number of years. How he must have loved this village to delay going to heaven.
            “But then it is a delightful place,” David murmured to himself. And as he drifted off to sleep, a wonderful feeling of peace descended over him. 
                                                            The End

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