Well That Was Fun - Part Three

 

Get off the train from Ludlow to Euston and wonder at the redeveloped ugliness of the station. Aesthetic reverie over, walk those wheely suitcases through the madding crowd towards the taxi rank, "Look, my dear, Northerners, keep your wallet safe." We weren't pickpocketed in Euston, remarkably, and found a cab, there were lots, "Reform Club, cabbie." He was happy to oblige and there we were on Pall Mall in good order and all of that. Nice.

Climb up those storied stairs and check in to chambers with the club's polite, friendly, attentive, helpful front desk. Room 320 and off you go. Basic, yes, but civilized, and know this - the Reform has two floors of rooms, they call them chambers, each of which features a pantry, complete with fridge, ironing board, tea, coffee, and all of that. Helpful and pleasant. Word to the wise, you can leave your wine, cheese et al in the fridge for a week while you go adventuring and guess what? It's there when you return. I told you, civilized.

Later that evening I struck out for Chinatown and takeaway, striding with purpose down Waterloo Place, just off Pall Mall. A voice rang out in the night, "Fr. LSP!" Sure enough, it was an old friend, RW, "Lovely to see you! Just heading to Chinatown for food, staying at Reform." He announced that he'd just come from Chinatown and was heading to the Travelers Club (next to Reform).  And so we passed, like ships in the night, and I brought back a score of Chinese food to our room, tasty.

Wantons, spring rolls, chicken and all of that later I figured it was time to explore the club after hours. So off you go into the midst of the thing, and what a thing it is. Regardless, I ended up in the Atrium and, as I crossed the deserted marble tiled floor there was a sound, a faint sound of a woman singing, coming from the Atrium's upper level. 

The words were indistinct and the song ceased after maybe less than 30 seconds. Eerie, and I knew no one was upstairs because I'd scouted it out earlier, on my descent to the ground floor. Struck by this, I went to the porters and asked them if they'd heard anything similar. No, they hadn't, but perhaps they hadn't served for long at the club. More on this later.

Ghosts aside, we rallied for breakfast in the Coffee Room (dining room) the next day. I had a "full English breakfast,"  which involved Black Pudding and sausage, yum. Mrs. LSP went with the Eggs Benedict option and all was delicious. Then we fell back to the garden for coffee and cigarettes to recoup before Mass at the Brompton Oratory.  And what a garden.

gotta get back to the garden

There you are, in the heart of London,  in the midst of the Rainbow Caliphate itself, in an oasis of peace, calm and order. Beautiful. Next and final stop? An Airbnb just off Covent Garden and a flight home to the great state of Texas.

Cheers,

LSP

Spooks

 

Do you believe in spooks? Well sure, we all know they're out there operating the arcana of their dark art, and the insouciance of latter day youth denigrates their online presence, "Glowies." But what about real spooks, ghosts, apparitions, typically of the dead. People see these, no doubt about it, and so have I. Here's a short story.

Back in the '80s our family lived in an Edwardian rectory on the outskirts of 'Nam, Cheltenham. My room was on the top floor and, when it was time for dinner, Ma LSP would shout out from the ground floor, "Dinner!" and off we'd go, all 5 kids.

a typical glowie

The pattern repeated. One night I was a bit slow off the mark and left the eyrie late. Walking by my parents' room  I did a quick eyes left and there was the silhouette of a woman, it was winter, the lights were off and she was combing her long hair in front of a mirror on the wall in the darkness.

I thought it was one of my sisters, being a comb your hair in the dark hippy, and was going to tease her for the malfeasance but thought better of it. Don't be a churl, LSP, let her enjoy the moment, so I duly walked down another flight of stairs and thence to the breakfast room, where everyone was present. No kidding, what had I just seen.

True story. Was it a ghost and if so, what are they, spirits of the dead in some kind of limbo? A transdimensional occurrence, a slip in  the fabric of space and time? Or something else. Feel free to weigh in.

Ghostly,

LSP