The Three O'Clock Ghost

Chapter 3 - The Story

By this time Charlotte and Matty were half way up the stairs, and by the time Pa had slowly made his way up, they were tucked up in bed, eagerly awaiting their favourite part of the day.

"Shove up then" said Pa as he squeezed next to Charlotte and thought for a few moments.

"Well, this one's about a ghost. You won't be scared will you?" he said in a menacing voice.

"No!" cried Charlotte and Matty together.

"Its about a ghost at the mill. Your mill no less."

Charlotte slid under the blankets a little further, as if to shield herself from the ghost in the story.

"The ghost is a boy. He's about your age Charlotte, and he visits the mill every day at the same time."

"Who is he Pa?" asked Matty.

"He's the dead son of the mill owner, Mr Wilkinson."

"I've never seen Mr Wilkinson Pa, he never comes to the mill," Charlotte added.

"No, he doesn't visit because it's too painful for him to see the building where his son lost his life. Some say the boy can't rest in peace because he's searching for his father, as he has a message for him but can't find him."

Charlotte and Matty gasped.

"How did he die Pa?" asked Matty.

"He fell from one of the loading doors on the second floor. There isn't a body that could have survived that fall. They scraped up his little broken corpse and some say his father screamed so loud that they could hear it above the clatter of the mules."

"Pa that's so sad," said Charlotte.

"It is Poppet. A terrible thing for any parent to go through."

"But how did he fall?" asked Matty.

"No-one knows son. Friskers was the first on the scene and he reckoned that the boy tripped over a pile of bobbins that had been left. Friskers beat a young lad with billy roller until he nearly followed young Master Wilkinson to his grave, saying that it was his job to clear up the mess."

"Friskers Whiskers is a nasty, nasty man Pa and I'm scared of him!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"Come on now, hush Poppet, you know that it's best to keep out of his way and get your work done. Besides, that's why Mr Wilkinson leaves the running of the place to Friskers and the like. Those greedy devils would take your blood if they could make money from it."

It wasn't like Pa to sound so bitter. He reflected for a few moments, his brow furrowed, and then as if realising how unlike himself he had been, he smiled, saying "Anyway, that's enough for tonight, sleep well." With that he kissed them both on the forehead and slowly left the room, coughing after the exertion of the storytelling.

"Matty, do you really think there is a ghost at the mill?" Charlotte whispered once she was sure Pa was out of earshot.

"Don't be daft, it's just another of Pa's tall tales. Like when he told us there were eagles living in the roof at the mill, or that we are related to Queen Victoria. He's full of yarns, our Pa. I've never seen any ghosts in any part of the mill. Now go to sleep. I'm worn out."

Charlotte lay awake for a while, imagining the boy, trying to decide if the story was true. There was something different about this tale and Charlotte didn't share Matty's view that it was just another tall tale. When sleep overcame her tired frame, she dreamt of falling, and when she opened her eyes in her dream, Mr Frisker would be bent over her, staring at her with his bulging eyes, and billy roller in his hand, ready to strike.

It seemed no time later that Ma was gently shaking her. "Come on sweetheart, time for work."

And this was how Charlotte's life went. Day in. Day out. With little to change it.

That is until that day.

The day that she saw it.