A Halloween Story

We had had a good night out at the Travellers Joy pub in Rayleigh, me and the girls. Six of us, old friends. It had been ages since we had had a night out together, before the Covid pandemic struck, in fact. We had all had Covid at some point over the last 18 months or so. Jenny and I had been really poorly and Jenny still didn't feel 100%, but apart from a lingering cough for a month after, the other girls hadn't been too badly affected. Anyway, we were all glad to have survived intact. Both Ann and Clare had lost a loved one during the lockdowns. Ann, her Nan, and Clare her Granddad, who had been in a nursing home. Neither had been able to visit and say goodbye. A horrible time it had been. We were all triple vaxed up and ready to celebrate all the missed birthday celebrations and Christmas get-togethers. We all arranged to get a taxi home or have our partners pick us up by11pm. At11 pm I was the only one left to be picked up. My partner Tony had texted to say there had been a bit of a hold-up on the A127 but was on his way. The pub was ready to close so I was waiting outside on the little terraced balcony. We had had a scorching summer, and although it was the end of October, it was quite mild. There was virtually no traffic passing at that time of night and not a soul about. It was quite nice waiting in the quiet gloom. We had all had quite a lot to drink, me included, which was unusual, but I felt mellow rather than inebriated. After 10 minutes or so, I thought I would walk around the car park a bit to avoid starting to get cold. It was getting a bit misty and the Halloween pumpkins dotted about were looking a bit spooky with their funny cut-out eyes and mouths. One of the flats across the road had one lit up in the window which looked more cheerful than scary.

After a while I stood nearer the road to look out for Tony as the pub lights were now turned off. All was silent, and then I heard a muffled voice somewhere near, but no actual person to be seen. I thought it must be my imagination until I distinctly heard a young voice say

‘Miss, Miss’. I looked around, but there was no one. And then I saw a most extraordinary thing that so shocked me I was rooted to the spot. Looking down, I saw what looked like a hand appearing out of the ground. Impossible I thought. Then it moved and stretched its fingers. It looked like the hand of a young male. I looked closer; yes, I guessed, a young man’s weather-beaten hand. The air was beginning to feel cooler and a bit damp. Whatever I had drank that evening had definitely gone to my head. The voice came again. ‘Miss Miss’. The voice seemed to be coming from below the ground, and then, with a swirl of mist, it rose above the ground and was very close. I waited, still rooted to the spot. The voice came again, nearer to me.

‘Miss, my name is James. James Cook. I died a very long time ago.

‘How long ago?’ I heard myself ask. As if it mattered at all.

‘In 1829, Miss’, came the disembodied reply.

‘It was wrong, Miss, a miscarriage of justice Miss; I never done what they said I had. Mr Green the farmer I worked for said I set fire to his property Miss, and they believed him and took me off to prison. It broke my Mam’s heart it did. I had to go to court. There had been a few arsons about that time what with all the dissatisfaction with farm workers conditions. Everyone working on the land were frustrated. They had taken our contracts away and we only got what we worked for ,so during the winter if there was nothing much to do ‘cept feed the animal no one got paid until planting time in Spring.It was hard to survive, and some didnt. I was 15 at the time and although headstrong didn't have any evidence,so it was my word against Mr Green’s. He didn't like me one bit. He had a nasty temper and worked me to the bone. He beat me once too. He was a horrible man. His wife was scared of him. When his daughter Molly even dared look in my direction he would shout and ball at me and reduce my dinner ration. I would of left if I could but my Mum was a widow and couldn't really afford to keep me in food. In fact I used to scrump apples and plums for her and a handful of corn for her 3 chickens now and again to help her out. It was the only way. But I did hate him and he knew it. I don't know who did torch his barn, he was not liked by anyone, but it weren't me. But he was determined to punish me for anything he could and apart from being asleep in another barn, I had no alibi. He was an influential man was farmer Green. I stood no chance. I'm sure my Ma believed me but what good was that to her? I couldn't help her out any more. I never thought for me it would come to the gallows, but with all the unrest with farm workers and labourers and he arson attacks the judges were coming down hard to try and frighten folk and stop it happening.’

There was a pause while I digested this information as best as my fuddled brain could. He carried on with what sounded like a little sob in his voice.

I was shocked to hear the judge say

‘The sentence of the court upon you is that you be taken from this place to a lawful prison and thence to a place of execution, and that you be hanged by the neck until you are dead. And may the Lord have mercy on your soul’

‘Where you are standing now, Miss, is where the gallows stood, and where I was hanged. Walking up those steps with townsfolk standing watching was horrible. I dared look up at them standing there. I told my Mother not to come, and I was glad not to see her face. But I did see my brother. He was crying so pitifully I had to look away. I never knew who burnt down farmer green’s barn. It could have been anyone with a grudge, or it could have been an accident. But I was blamed and had my life ended cruelly and wrongly. I was barely 16 years of age. I can never settle. I am troubled and restless. Tonight is Halloween, when many spirits are abroad. Most living folk do not have the spiritual power to believe in the spirit world, and so do not hear or see us. You have heard me, though, and it has helped me that you have listened. Do you believe me?’

‘Yes, I do’, I hear myself say, almost in a whisper.

Just then I am alerted to Tony’s car lights as he swings into the pub car park.

He stops the car and leans over to open the passenger car door. Before I get in I look all around me in a slow 360-degree movement. Nothing to see or hear. Tony calls me to get in. Giving me a peck on the cheek as a welcome, he says, laughing,

‘Good Lord, love. Good night with the girls then? You look like you are three sheets to the wind, or have you just seen a ghost? Well, it is Halloween. Let’s get you home; you definitely don’t look quite right.

I am silent as we drive home. Was that real or just my imagination?.

Copyright, Jane Scoggins October 2026