CHAPTER 4

Dark Encounter

Brighton by the seaside could be reached easily by bus and train from South London. We would get a red double decker bus to Croydon, and then get the train to Brighton.

On this particular day, we each had proper return tickets, so there should be no need to hide under seats from any ticket inspectors.

The train pulls into Croydon station, and as it slows down, we run alongside the carriages to see which ones are empty so we can have some gang privacy once we get on.

We select a passenger car that has adjacent and opposite seating on both sides of the carriage with the walkway down the middle.

These old dull and smelly tobacco stained railway cars had luggage racks over the tall wide seats, and we all decided to use these as hammocks rather than sit down properly.

The journey to Brighton goes quickly as we play games like who can get to one end of the carriage and back without touching the ground, by jumping and climbing from seat to seat.

As the train pulls into Brighton station, we are already opening the carriage doors and jumping from the moving train before it stops, just like we jump off the open entrance and exit platform on the older London double decker red buses.

It’s lunchtime now as we leave the Brighton train station, and we all make our way down the main street towards the seaside promenade.

TOBY: I’m starving,

ME: CHIPS! Instead of getting four small bags of chips, lets get two big bags, it would be cheaper,

MIKE: Yeah, and a big bottle of cold orange soda to share,

JACK: And eat it on the sandy beach!

We stop at a fish and chip shop facing the sea and pier, and get some chips and a bottle of fizzy orange soda pop, then wander across the wide sea front road over to where there are some steps that go down to the beach.

We all stop halfway down the steps to have a look over the stone balcony wall,

JACK: Where’s the sand?

TOBY: It’s all pebbles?

JACK: Maybe the sea washed it all away last night?

ME: Don’t be fucking stupid, the sand doesn’t wash away. Does it?

From here on, the day just worsens, and gets stranger and stranger…

After lunch we all start picking up small pebbles then start throwing them at each other. But as we are boys the pebbles get larger and larger.

We start swearing at each other as the impacts are beginning to hurt. We start moving down the beach towards the sea. Toby picks up a huge pebble and raises it above his head.

Making out to throw it at one of us the big wet stone slips between his fingers and hits him on the head, which sounds just like a coconut being hit by a hard-wooden ball at the funfair.

We stop throwing stones at each other and start laughing at Toby, but the laughing stops as we see blood running down from his hairline, then down his forehead and down his face.

ME: Lets look at your head to see where the blood is coming from,

TOBY: Well?

ME: Small cut. Let’s go up to the pier and see if there is a first-aid person who can have a look at it,

JACK: We can go on some of the pier’s amusement rides as well,

When we get to the pier, we ask an attendant for a first-aid person. We get directions but stop at the “House of Horror” ghost train ride on the way.

It starts to rain, and the water is mixing with Toby’s bloody face fluid. It’s starting to run down and around his nose now, and also behind his ears, but none of this is not stopping him wanting to go on the ghost train.

We pay to go on the ghost ride and the four of us squeeze into a car behind a couple of girls who are just leaving the platform in their ghost train car.

The girl’s car leaves the platform as it rattles and electrically sparks on the rails, it goes through the double door entrance into the Haunted House, our ghost train car follows close behind.

As we rumble slowly along the maze of tracks swinging quickly left and right you can hear shrieks and screams from other ghost train riders.

In the shower of sparks coming from the old electric track and our train car wheels you could occasionally see the car in front of us, it was only about two metres in front. Then suddenly all the train cars just stop. All of us are just sitting there in the darkness.

TOBY: What’s going on?

ME: Power cut?

MIKE: It’s a bit dark,

TOBY: I’m getting out!

ME: Don’t!

Toby gets out of the car,

JACK: Where you going Tobe?

We hear a thump!

TOBY: OH, fuck it!

Then the power comes back on. In front of us is the girl’s car, and in front of them a scary skeleton light’s up and leans forward, the girls give out a big put-on scream.

Then alongside the skeleton Toby appears in a strobing blue light, moaning because he had fell and banged his head on something, and he was holding his bloody head that looked worse because of his rain-soaked hair. The girls scream sounds very loud and very real this time.

Toby got back in our car and sat there rubbing his head and carried on moaning. The girls looked around at us, they looked terrified, then confused. Me, Jack and Mike took no real notice of this terrifying bloody headed monster who had got into our ghost train car with us, seeing as we didn’t seem that concerned about it. I guess the girls couldn’t figure out.

The rain had stopped, and Toby had cleaned up his face. We were all standing along the pier rail now and were watching a man under the pier at the base of some metal and wooden steps fix a white speedboat that was tied up. A sign at the top where we were observing from read “Speedboat rides, fifty pence per person”

The man fixing the boat looks up at us,

MAN: Want to come for a free ride?

Without a word from any of us we all jumped over the staircase safety chain and ran down the stairs in just a few seconds.

We jumped from the bottom of the stairs onto a small floating mooring jetty where we could see another boat that the man was pointing at.

But this old white wooden rowing boat was covered in greasy and oily handprints. It looked like a badly converted speedboat; it had a big exposed diesel engine that looked like it was from an old coach.

It was obvious the steering wheel was from a motor coach, because it still had a large engraved riveted brass name plate attached to it which said “LEYLAND LIMITED” engraved on it.

And this huge old steering wheel still had the wiper and indicator stalks attached. The wheel was probably from the same coach the engine had come from. But, hey! Free ride!

We all jumped into the high back wide red seat at the back of the boat with the huge oily engine in front of us. We found lap belts tucked into the back of the seat and put them on. (I am sure this was the rear seat from a coach) the driver, “Paul”, sat in a plastic garden chair at the front of the boat and started the engine.

Black Diesel smoke wafted everywhere. You could not hear each other even if you shouted or yelled, as the noise from the engine and exhaust prohibited that.

PAUL: Hang on, off we go!

The boat took off very quickly, the sharp end of the boat pointed to the sky and the rear sunk down, and before you knew it, we were bouncing up and down up and over the choppy waves about fifty meters off pebbly Brighton beach.

Then around a mile from the pier we turn around and started to go back. Then to our surprise Paul tied up the boats steering wheel and came to the back where we all were.

PAUL: On the way back, I’m taking the boat under the pier, don’t be scared. OK!

We all looked around at each other and nodded back at Paul. We were having a pretty good time for free.

Paul got back in the garden chair and unties the steering wheel; he then aims the boat for the largest opening under the pier. As we go underneath, we all get soaked as waves caught up in the piers supports splash across us.

As we get a couple of hundred meters past the pier Paul stands up and tries to spin around the steering wheel fast to turn the boat around and go back, except, a huge wave launches the boat into the air.

Paul is hanging onto the steering wheel now with feet off the ground, he falls backwards pulling the steering wheel off its shaft, he then falls into the plastic garden chair and it collapses, the plastic chairs legs break off from the impact.

The boat is now speeding towards the beach at an angle, with Paul on his back sliding around in a few inches of seawater holding this big detached steering wheel in one hand and grabbing out in the air with his free hand.

All we could do is just sit there and watch him as we are all strapped in and bouncing around, looking at this unobstructed view of this condemned boats bow now fast approaching the beach.

As the boat reaches the Stoney beach, we ride a big wave onto the pebbles and slide for some meters. We stop abruptly as the nose of the boat digs in and then the engine revs up.

The boats rear comes up and we reach a forty-five-degree angle, and we all find ourselves staring downwards at the brown and grey pebbled beach for a second before the boat falls back.

The engine stalls as a spray of stones is heard thumbing the boats underside at the back of the boat as the pebbles get churned up by the propeller.

All at the same time we unclip our lap belts and jump off the back of the watercraft. We all stamp on the wet stones and pass the front of the marooned boat, Toby turns to Paul who is sitting down on the boats wet floor,

TOBY: You’re a fucking wanker, and your boat is shit!

We wandered around Brighton until it was dark and decided to get some chips again to eat while waiting for our train home at the train station.

JACK: Should we get a big chips and a soda to share? Again,

TOBY: Yeah!

MIKE: Yeah!

ME: OK!

As I get some money from my pocket to pay for the food, I realise my return train ticket has become a soggy and unreadable mess from getting wet when we all went for the boat ride,

ME: Oh! Fuck! Look at my ticket!

Toby and Jack check their tickets,

Jack gets his ticket out of his pocket, while Toby pulls his from his sock,

MIKE: It’s no good,

JACK: Mines the same!

TOBY: Mines OK, look!

ME: When its late, they don’t check your tickets when you go to the train’s platform, you just hand them in when you get to your station at the other end, I think?

We all agree that is what the ticket inspectors would do.

We had had a hell of a day, and it was time to go home.

The train was on time and virtually empty. No one needed to look or check our tickets at the station, so we just got on the train anyway.

We found an empty carriage and settled in for the journey home.

We were not very active, just all very tired. About halfway home Jack got up to go to the toilet but came running back down the carriage,

JACK: There’s a ticket inspector coming!

TOBY: Well I’m ok, I got a ticket!

ME: Well fuck you Toby. Come on Jack, Mike, lets hide,

Mike goes off in the opposite direction,

Me and Jack run down the carriage and look for someplace to hide from the ticket inspector. I check a toilet door as we hear the ticket inspector asking to see a passenger’s ticket just around the corner. I pull Jack’s arm and whisper to him.

ME: Look! This toilet is vacant,

As I open the toilet door the trains lights all go off, this doesn’t bother us as this it is not uncommon for the lights to go off occasionally on a night train. I pull Jack into the dark toilet and fumble for the door lock, I find the door lock and pull it across then pull and push the door to check it is closed and won’t open.

We stand there quietly in the dark, side by side, both facing the door, a flicker of moonlight flashes occasionally though the frosted toilet window as we pass telegraph poles and go under small bridges.

We stand there in the dark and hear the ticket inspector asking for tickets to be shown, we stand there for at least ten minutes. We hear the inspectors fading voice going away.

Then!

MAN: I know you are there, I can hear very well you know, what do you want? Can I help you in any way?

Then there is a shit plopping into water sound, quickly followed by a squeaky farting of wind that is quickly followed by a pissing into water noise from behind us.

The hairs all over my body stand on end, I feel myself go cold. I’m sure I can hear my heart beating. I slowly look around as the lights briefly strobe and flash then brightly come back on.

Jack is trying to be as still as a statue, but he is shaking and looking wide eyed straight ahead at the toilet door. I turn around slowly and look behind me, there, sitting on the toilet seat, is a well-dressed suited man with his trousers and underwear around his ankles with a bowler hat on his head.

He is holding a white stick in his right hand with its point on the floor, and on his left side is a dog sitting there ever so quietly with a reign harness on. The man is wearing dark glasses.

ME: Oh! Oops, sorry, excuse me sir!

I unlock the door and push out a shivering Jack who has not yet looked around into the train’s corridor.

We go back to our carriage and just sit there without talking; Toby and Mike are stretched out across seats sleeping. Me and Jack were both very wide awake, we are still both in shock, we didn’t sleep.

The man was blind,

But certainly not deaf.