Bricked Up Doorways

Warming Ups

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I took Ernie up the Gorge first thing as he wanted to go to the shop that sold fossils.

Catie had asked him to count how many different species of flower he saw on the walk and he diligently took on this task. Getting to 200 by the time we got to Gough’s cave. It’s fun taking time out to look at stuff you wouldn’t usually look at. he was delighted to see this snail happily sitting in the middle of a flower.

In turn I pointed out all the places that had changed since I lived here between 40 and 50 years ago. The phone box I sometimes rang my first girlfriend from (not sure why, we had a phone in our house) was still there, but it doesn’t have a phone in it any more, just some painted stones. I seem to remember my girlfriend also once slapped me across the face by that phone box, hard enough for me to fall over. I wonder what I had done. I didn’t tell Ernie that.

We were so early that not much was open up the Gorge. I took him to look at the entrance to Gough’s cave. There was a branch lying by a bin and he asked if that was a bone from caveman times. I said it was unlikely that it would have sat there unnoticed until now.

The cave guides were getting ready to open up. I thought about telling them that I used to do their job 40 years ago (I am pretty sure I was there in the spring of 1986 in fact). The cave guide room seemed to be in a different place than I remembered. Perhaps my memory was failing me. But when I looked at where I recalled the door being, you could see the outline of a bricked up doorway. I may be the only tourist to have taken a photo of that. Everything changes.

Later we’d pass the primary school where I was a pupil 50 years ago (which made me feel like a fucking ghost). The entrance we used to use to get into the playground was also bricked up. It feels like Cheddar is so ashamed of me that they are bricking up my past.

To Wells for lunch, with my niece and my two great-nieces, one of whom cries and runs away every time she sees me (she is 28 years old) and the other seems to like me well enough. Or at least stares at me a lot. I presume in wonder at my beauty. Rather than trying to work out what this weird hairy creature is.

The people of Wells were very excited too to have a celebrity in their midst. One man stopped in the street and said “It’s one of the comedians - Richard Herring”. I said Hello to him quite cheerily, but he then just stared at me. I presume in wonder at my beauty. Though I wondered if he might be planning an attack.

After lunch, walking back to our car, another man shouted at me “You’re off the telly.” Which is true if you have a long memory. Again I said hello, but carried on my way. My mum though stopped to talk to him. He told her he didn’t know what my name was and so she told him and told him I was in a double act in the 1990s, which I don’t think he was aware of. At least the first guy had known my name. Even if he did look like he was considering murdering me. It’s still nice when they know your name. Imagine being murdered by someone who only vaguely recognises you. That would be embarrassing.

Mum seemed chuffed that the second, possibly crazy, man had recognised my face, even though he had no idea who I was. It’s nice to have made her proud. Once every 58 years isn’t bad.

Most of the people of Wells ignored me though, because there was a real star in the city today. The police car from Hot Fuzz was parked up in the town square. I can’t compete with that.

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The electronic signs on the motorway occasionally read “Don’t Drive Tired”. Thanks for the advice pixelated sign and it’s very easy for you to make that kind of judgement. But are you prepared to look after my kids for a week so I can get some sleep? Didn’t think so. You’re there when it comes to criticising me for sleepily weaving all over the road, but not so keen to help out when needed.

Or if I am gigging for £150 in Yorkshire, will you pay the £160 bill for the hotel room? Why have you gone so quiet sign? Maybe it’s not as simple as you thought.

I did drive tired and I hardly nearly got into any accidents. So maybe just tell us when roads are closed and stop judging us.

We watched episode two of Widow’s Bay last thing tonight, which I am not sure about, but this episode was about a man staying in a creepy hotel that was full of possible ghosts. Afterwards I had to take the dog out for a quick walk and the streets of Hitchin were empty and quiet. It was about 11.30pm

Wolfie weed on a patch of grass up the road and I returned. I could hear a strange noise approaching. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was, but it was coming towards me and getting louder. Like something was rolling or scraping against the ground. I don’t believe in ghosts and I wasn’t scared.

Then a young girl of about ten appeared dragging a suitcase on wheels behind her. That was the noise, but what was she doing out so late, with a suitcase? She wasn’t alone- two adults and another girl were behind her, also with suitcases. But none of them were talking or smiling, just walking. I was on the other side of the road and safe from this slightly unsettling apparition. Then they all crossed the road towards me. Why were they out so late? Why weren’t they speaking to each other? All I could hear was the noise of their suitcases.

They didn’t acknowledge me, but I didn’t acknowledge them either, because they were ghosts.

Probably they’d been away for bank holiday and arrived back at the train station late and walked home together, too tired to talk. But when you’re spooked everything is spooky.

Also they were really spooky.

Don’t walk tired either, I guess.

Retro RHLSTP with Catherine Bohart here.

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