The Seance As promised here is an account of my one and only séance experience, which happened many years ago. Not knowing exactly what you have in mind I've tried to keep it short, telling the tale as I might over a couple of pints. The event took place over two nights, but here I've condensed it into just one. WILKIL THOSE two little words sent a chill down the spine. The next confirmed that one of us was about to meet a gory end., and that we had wandered into some dark and frightening place beyond our understanding. Yet it had all begun so innocently. Sharing a flat, and short of funds as students often are, the three of us had decided on a 'quiet night-in' with a chance to catch-up on our studies. It was something none of us was really looking forward to, and it came as no surprise when an hour or so later I heard Eddie heave a sigh and snap his book shut. Then it was George's turn. Giving a groan he announced that he was bored, studying was boring, and the entire world one big yawn. I had to agree. "Know how you feel" - looking-up from an essay I'd been struggling with I watched him begin to roll a thin cigarette. "But we're stuck in here. Flat broke. And short of robbing a bank, what else is there for us to do?" "Don't know." The three of us silent for a moment Eddie gave a shrug, offering a suggestion. "We could hold a seance." "You're joking" - even as I spoke I could see he was giving it further consideration. "Why not?" A grin spread as he explained further. "As a sort of experiment, if you like. Just to see what happens. Prove or disprove. Anything's got to be better than this." "Sounds cool" - George was already giving the idea his seal of approval. All I knew about calling on the spirit world could have been written on the back of a stamp but I saw my companions were better informed. All we'd need was a wine glass, Eddie informed me, and a sheet of paper to write on. Getting to his feet George was already going in search of both. "You mean, like a Ouija?" I was beginning to understand. "Yeah." "But don't the 'vibes' or whatever have to be just right?" "Nah ..." Eddie added a chuckle, "so much mumbo-jumbo but what the hell if it helps pass another boring hour or two." Returning in triumph George began tearing a foolscap sheet into small squares and writing down the letters of the alphabet on them., at the same time explaining further - "So if nothing happens, what have we lost! And where's the harm?" - before arranging them in a clockwise circle on our polished table then placing the upturned glass at it centre. "How do you both know so much about this? - I was quietly impressed as we all sat facing each other. "Must have read about it somewhere" - George threw each of us a grin. "And who are we supposed to contact?" "Whoever," Eddie answered with one of his own. "Better still, some old pirate who can tell us where to find a buried treasure. Help our cash flow crisis." Following his lead I placed my index fmger lightly on the glass, next to theirs, and as a silence descended on the room only faint sounds of late traffic filtered up the room. Then Eddie was speaking again. "Is anyone there?" It sounded ludicrous, and I had to stop myself chuckling. More seconds ticked-by and as nothing continued to happen and he tried again I found myself needing to choke-back more sounds of mirth. Only just succeeding. "Is ... anyone ... there?" It didn't help, either, that he had opted for a dopey voice, slow a deliberate as though communicating with a deaf person. For a third and then fourth time he put the question as we sat staring at the glass that remained unmoved by any amount of comical imploring. "Perhaps we're doing something wrong," I offered helpfully. He gave another shrug. "Maybe. But if we really concentrate our thoughts, try to imagine someone's there, perhaps it'll work." Another lengthening silence ticked-by then he was trying a different approach. "Whoever is there, if you wish to communicate, then reply. Is someone there?" With disbelieving eyes I watched the glass begin to move, sliding across the table's shiny surface to touch each letter in turn before returning to its place in the centre of the circle. Y - E - S None of us spoke, and glancing-up I recognised the same astonishment on my companion's faces as I was experiencing. Returning my gaze to where our fingers rested lightly I heard another question being whispered. "Who are you?" R - 0 - B Eddie needed to clear his throat before continuing. "Is that your name ... Rob?" Y - E - S I knew I wasn't pushing the glass and as our eyes met I saw that Eddie and George were not guilty of it, either. "Is that Rob, as in Robert?" - with this next question the glass was on the move once more, traversing the circle to touch letter in turn.Y - E - S "Hello, Rob. Pleased to meet you." Eddie's solemn greeting had barely left his lips when the glass was moving again. M-E-G- L -A -D-T-0 Hardly daring to believe what was happening before my eyes I sat stunned, transfixed, as the exchanges continued. With, it seemed to me, the glass finding a new energy, sense of purpose, as it sped across the table. "And you feel the same, too?" Y - E - S As I noted Eddie moistening his lips I also became aware that my own mouth was dry while noticing how the hairs on George's arm were raised, as though he was cold. "What do you want?" Almost forgetting to take a breath we watched the ring of letters being revisited to spell out something else. M-E-S-A-G Together we silently mouthed the word - "Message." I felt something icy run along my spine. My arm was beginning to ache, but I left the finger where it was. "He's spelling phonetically," Eddie commented quietly, as though to himself. "The quickest and easiest way" - George added a nod, agreeing. Then it was my turn to put the next question. "Rob, what is your message?" W-I-F-K-I-D-S "For your wife and children ... tell them what?" With none of us pushing the glass there could be only one explanation. Slowly I took a deep, and steadying, gulp of air as I realised that the unbelievable was happening and we had made contact with someone from 'the other side.' Then the next reply was being spelled out for us to read. L U - V Within reach was a pencil and spare sheet of paper and I began scribbling the exchanges as best I could, but using my left hand saw a scrawl that I guessed might be almost impossible to read later. Trying to record our next questions, and the clipped answers, was proving tricky as the paper slipped around on table's polished surface, but it was the only way. As gradually we learned more. His name, he told us, was Robert (after some debate we opted for a surname 'Callas') who had lived in N-U-Y-O-R- K, and the message was to his wife and children who he loved dearly. Wanted them to know they were still in his thoughts. "And they are called ..?" Eddie was breaking-in again. "We need to know more, their names, if we're to help." The reply this time was faltering, hesitant, as the glass picked out a dozen letters that seemed to make little sense when I copied each in turn. Then, like code-breakers, we were making a break-through and settling on four that seemed to hold most promise. E-V-L-N Slowly something was beginning to dawn and scribbling a name I put the next question. "Your wife's name is ... Evelyn?" Y E S By carefully phrasing our next questions, so that they needed just a simple Yes or No reply, we were able to learn more. There was Rob junior, aged nine, and a daughter of five months named Jane. As for himself , an engineer in the oil business Rob had been a passenger aboard a light aircraft that had gone down on a survey flight over Alaska. Just a matter of a few months previously, it seemed. "And where are you now?" - as George took over we watched the glass moving again. H E - R Copying the reply I felt something tingle down my spine again at the thought that he was with us - Here! - perhaps even in the room. Looking down, or whatever, and watching us. It was, to say the least, unsettling. "Wow!" - Eddie's wide-eyed reaction summed-up how we all felt. Then George was adding something else in an awed whisper. "Bloody hell ... he's in the room!" For every scrap of information we were receiving there had been more moments of confusion, leaving us to stare blankly at each other. Now suddenly our new friend was following-up with something else to leave us baffled ... H-A-H-A-H-A until we realised he was amused, and laughing at our reaction. I found myself wondering again how he could know so much. "So where exactly are you?" - the words were out before I could stop them. M-I-D-L I could sense Eddie's disquiet as he spoke next - "Does that mean ... heaven?" N - 0 "The ... other place?" N 0 Raising a spare hand to silence me he pressed on - "Then where else is there?" M-I-D-L More seconds ticked-by slowly before George was quietly voicing what was also on our minds, glancing to each of us in turn as he spoke. "Where do you reckon it is, this 'middle' place? Some sort of limbo, where you have to wait before being sent ... to somewhere else?" I heard myself replying with a shrug, "Who knows." Then Eddie was doing the same, "Your guess is as good as any." Before George was posing another question - "And why is the glass slowing down?" Unexpectedly it had begun to move sluggishly, with longer pauses between choosing each letter. What had taken seconds before had become slow, and an agonising wait. After the last reply it had come to rest off-centre as though without the energy to move further. Eddie was first to speak again - "Rob, we need to know more." As the glass started moving once more I found I was holding my breath again, and willing-it-on. To complete its faltering reply. S-A-Y- I-"You want us to say ... what?" - Ed's tone was gentle, trying to coax a response. L - U - V ... E - M "Of course we will, tell them that you love them. But how? We'll have to know more, like where to get in touch. Can you do that for us now?" Y - E - An eerie quiet had descended on the room as we waited for that last missing letter to complete the reply. Only to see nothing happen. flow many more minutes passed I have no idea before I heard Eddie trying again. "Rob, are you still there? Is anything the matter?" The sound of a car door being slammed-shut in the street below only served to deepen the silence. With the glass motionless I felt a twinge of regret, that it was all over, and looking to my companions sensed they were feeling the same. "That seems to be it" - Eddie gave a sigh. "Seems like" - with a shrug George agreed. "Shall we pack-it-in?" - my suggestion received nods of approval. About to take our fingers from the glass we were stopped as suddenly it began moving once more, swiftly and apparently with fresh purpose.Startling us with a new message. G - 0 - N Left staring at each other Eddie was taking over again. "Who ... what ... has gone?" H I M It took a moment to digest, before another question was being put. "Why has Rob gone?" B-C-0-S The abrupt reply - 'because' - somehow had a ring of insolence to it that left me thinking uneasily of a sneer being uttered aloud. Something mocking, and disturbing. An unwelcome change of mood. "What's happened to Rob?" T-I-M-C-O-M His 'time had come' we were being informed by someone, or some new entity, that had obviously taken his place. "Who are we speaking to now?" M - E From the amiable, even in a sad way, we now found ourselves being drawn into something new and unsettling. And as we quietly discussed what to do next, whether to try and discover more or quit, the glass was reclaiming our attention. D-O-N-T-G-O "Why not?" - I detected a note of impatience in Eddie's voice. B-C-O-S The hairs on the back of my neck were standing upright as I realised that whoever or whatever was now 'with us' had been listening to our conversation. Might even be near, unseen by us, while following every word. "And if we do go?" - without thinking I had thrown down a challenge, and immediately saw another message being spelled out. W-I-L-K-I-L Again and again, with the glass spinning almost crazily from one letter to another, we watched the message being repeated. . K - I - L K - I - L K - I - L Left stunned, and not daring to raise our fingers to break the spell, we sat staring at the moving glass. Seeing the threat repeated. S-T-A-Y-K-I-L I was conscious of Eddie swallowing hard, and think I must have done the same. "This has gone far enough" - he spoke in a whisper, barely audible. "I think we ought to stop it - now!" Nodding agreement I saw the glass resume its travels. C-U-T-F-L-E-S-H Most defmitely no longer a fun experiment, but something very frightening, we knew we had had entered a dimension beyond our understanding. Were totally out of our depth. Yet a stubborn streak in me refused to give-in to it too easily. "How?" - I saw my challenging receive a swift and chilling reply. N - I - F It took some seconds to translate, understand, then together the three of us were left staring in the direction of a long sharp blade used earlier to share-out slices of pie. More chilling proof that we needed to end it all as quickly as possible. S-T-A-Y-K-I-L The new warning reminded us once again that our thoughts were being read, and that there might not be much time left for us to act. G-O-R-G As his name was spelled-out I heard a low groan, and turning to my friend saw a look of horror sweeping across his face. D - I A damp sheen glistened on Eddie's brow and I felt the same on mine. K-I-L-G-O-R-G Glancing to my companions again I saw that they were sharing the same fear, and were ready to risk an escape. D-O-N- T-G-O Once again our thoughts, even as we had them, were somehow being anticipated. And I knew that when we did act it would have to be as one, our fmgers removed from the glass together in the same split-second. C-U-T-G-O-R-G Mouthing a countdown from three, with generous pauses between each to allow the others plenty of time to follow, I saw the glass continue its murderous journeying. C-U-T-F-L-E-S- H In truth, I suppose, I was taking as long as I could. Scared and reluctant to tempt fate. Doing anything to put-off the dreaded moment. G-O- R-G-D-I Eventually it could be delayed no longer. Snatching our fmgers away together we waited for what might happen next, the knife to come flying at us perhaps to begin something bloody. A long and tense moment later I found myself slowly heaving a sigh of relief when we were being spared the expected mayhem. In silence we got up from the table and I took the opportunity to hide the blade out of sight in a nearby drawer where it could do no immediate harm. We had been left shaken and reluctant to delve too deeply, so soon, into what had just taken place. Each of us, suppose, preferring to keep our inner thoughts to ourselves. Had it all been real, and a true glimpse into the afterlife, or a trick of the mind? I didn't know. Why had poor George been singled out that way? What part might we have unwittingly played? And if so, then which dark recess was responsible for such an insane and terrible thing? Again I had no answers. Later, on the way to our separate rooms, I couldn't help noticing how George had fashioned a crucifix using two pencils and an elastic band, then placed it on his bedside table. I knew why, and couldn't blame him. We never did dabble in the occult again. END

When I lived near Swansea I used to drink at a pub in Bishopston called The Plough where I was introduced to a gentleman called Dave Arnold; we got on well. Dave had a “valleys” background and had trained and worked in journalism in London before retiring back to south Wales. I remember one evening we were discussing ghosts and Dave related a story of how once, as a young man he was cycling home from work over a dark mountain to Nelson, where he then lived. As I recall, he stopped for a break in the dark and heard someone walking up the road towards him, he looked up to see who it could be - there were footsteps, but no one there and the footsteps receded along the road behind him. I cannot remember Dave’s telling of his reaction - I know what mine would have been. When I decided to include these stories in my website I contacted Dave and asked him if he would write out his “Ghost Story” for me, he agreed and sent it to me through the post. To my surprise it was not the”Nelson mountain” tale but the following story. Dave has, sadly, gone now but I think you will agree that he tells a very good tale.