A ghost story for Hallowe'en

Everything described here really happened.

 "Ooh, I think you must have seen a ghost!" my friend S suggested excitedly, as we sat at breakfast in a Norwich hotel, the morning after the Edwyn Collins gig.  As her words sunk in I felt a slight tingle, the clichéd shiver down my spine - the thought had never occurred to me.  But I'd just been telling my two pals about an experience I'd had soon after entering my bedroom the previous day when we checked in.  And I was only telling them because in retrospect I'd thought it quite funny - comedically funny, I mean.  It was certainly memorable.

I'd just arrived in my room and, if you'll excuse me, I was really very desperate for a wee after the journey, so I'd hurriedly plonked my overnight bag down on the floor just inside and headed straight for the loo in the tiny ensuite bathroom.  Unbuckled my belt, unzipped my jeans, etc... when half way through relieving myself, aargh! - there was a knock on the room door.  "Just a minute!" I called out urgently, but I wasn't sure I'd be heard from there.  It'll be my friend L, I thought; her room was a bit further down the creaky-floored corridor, maybe she needed me for something.  I expected her to wait or knock again but... suddenly... I heard the room door opening - someone must be coming in! Oh no!  I quickly tried to finish what I was doing, frantically pulling up my clothes as best I could, and ran out of the bathroom - never mind that my jeans were still unzipped and I hadn't had time to do up my belt - what if someone is stealing my bag...?

"But it was this very small old lady," I explained, as I continued the story to my friends next morning.  "A chambermaid, you know, black clothes. Very thin with long grey hair. She had these really blue eyes, but they were sunken, sort of hollow looking, dark circles round them - she didn't look at all well, really, rather sad-faced, poor woman.  And there was me, standing there all dishevelled with my jeans gaping open and my belt dangling, wondering what on earth was going on!  She just asked something, opened a drawer, looked inside the wardrobe and then left.  But, argh, how embarrassing...!"  

It was at this point that S suggested, much to my surprise, that I may have had a spooky visitation.  "I'm pretty sure this place is supposed to be haunted," she added. Of course, I then wanted to delve a little deeper into the hotel's history... so I checked.

My room was in one of the older parts of the establishment, an impressive building dating back to the 13th Century, with ancient beams, long winding corridors, narrow staircases and sash windows, and in Tudor times it had been a busy coaching inn.  And yes, the hotel was indeed rumoured to be haunted.  Stories abound of a long-gone innkeeper who wanders around checking that everything is still in order, of a giggling child who can be heard but not seen, of a 17th Century Mayor who walks the corridors shaking his head.  And of the ghost of a forlorn-looking but kindly older lady who had been a chambermaid centuries ago, checking the rooms and still going about her duties...

My spine tingled a little more strongly and goosebumps appeared on my arms... oh, I wonder, I wonder if...?

The thin lady in her maid's uniform did look deathly pale and she was certainly old-fashioned with an air of sadness, - or bewilderment, perhaps - but with a kindness in her somewhat sunken eyes.  And it was rather strange that she'd just come into the room like that unexpectedly, briefly searched it and then, with silent footsteps, left.

"I reckon she was that ghost!" ventured S.  "What was it she asked you?"

I thought back to that moment when the old woman's hollow eyes met mine, a slightly flustered look on her gaunt, sallow face.  What was it she'd said to me?  Oh yes.  "She asked if I needed a bag for the hairdryer..."