THE SEANCE- Intro to novel

THE SEANCE

My mother told us not to do it. I wished we’d listened to her. I wish we could go back, Jeff, Joanne and me. I might still be alive.

I guess all of us at some time in our lives have thought about dabbling in the occult. Our gatherings usually took place in a loft, a spare room or even the garden shed. All of us high on too much cola, waiting until our parents had left. Then out would come the playing cards and a wine glass, dim the lights and we were ready. Other kids had the real deal but we never had a Ouija board we had to make do with writing letters on playing cards. But we all did it. At least once. I’m sure you remember accusing someone of pushing the glass or rapping their knuckles against the table leg. My interest in the after life started around the age of twelve or thirteen . A time when a kid at school would hyperventilate and then hold his breath and you would stand behind him and squeeze his chest until he passed out, a time when a sleepover involved sneaking out to the greenhouse to smoke cigarette butts and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in your pyjamas. A time in my life when curiosity and experimentation were central to my transition from child to adolescent.

The school playground was a breeding ground of Chinese whispers about ghosts, witches, mediums and the devil. While other boys read sci fi and adventure books I read Denis Wheatley novels and rifled through my Fathers adult magazines and books to satisfy my curiosity. Once i found a journal of black and white photographs. One grisly image was of a woman caught in barbed wire while hooded men touched her. I didn’t understand it or like it much. The Exorcist had opened in America so that puts the beginning of this story around 1973. A friend of mine called Jeff was an usher at the local cinema. Apart from giving me free posters of all the new releases, he would let me sneak in to watch any film i wasn’t old enough to see. I saw ‘ Straw Dogs, ‘ ‘the Devil Rides out’, ‘The Wicker man, ‘ and i had a morbid fascination with Charles Manson, but the Exorcist for sheer un adulterated terror and sleepless nights, that took some beating. I don’t know what Jeff is doing now but he was there that night so he could tell you what happened. But that was only the beginning.

Jeff was tall and lanky. He was in the year above me and had started shaving. He used to hang out with a girl called Jo. She went to the local Convent school. Jeff always took care of Jo. He said he felt sorry for her because all the other boys said she was a slut. She had done it with two boys, one after another. Jeff said they did it in his loft and he watched. I had heard rumors, i found it kind of exciting when he talked about it. I could only dream about things like that. Jo lived near Jeff and they spent a lot of time together. They were a bit like brother and sister. Jo was kooky and really grown up. She had curves in all the right places and her sweaters were always pulled tight over her chest. She liked me because she said i was cute. I suppose I was non threatening, unlike the other boys always pestering her for a snog or a feel. To be honest I always felt a bit in awe of her. Then one day she took her shoes off to run for a bus. I was surprised how small she was in her stockinged feet. I looked at her differently after that. I wasn’t intimidated anymore.

We lived in a bland 1930’s semi detached house in Surrey. Not a run down gothic pile in the middle of nowhere which the film industry seems to feel is a prerequisite component of any tale that will scare you shitless. We were the perfect nuclear family. I had a younger sister called Milly. She went to the primary school at the end of the garden. If i stood on the back step I could see her playing in the playground. My parents were young, i think my mum was 20 when i was born. My dad younger. My mum was a teacher i don’t know what my dad did. He went out late at night and slept in late. We had a car a white Rover. My dad said that when he drove it home at night everyone pulled over because they thought it was a police car. I was quite a sporty kid. I could never walk anywhere i had to run. I didn’t want to be a footballer like most of the kids, My dream was to be a commentator. I would spend hours alone in my bedroom honing my skills on imaginary football matches. My Mother always thought i was kind of odd.

Jeff was my best friend, he lived down the hill towards school. His road was on the other side of the park where we did cross country. At the weekend I used to cycle to his house and we did a paper round together. It wasn’t too difficult , not with two of you. One of the routes took us to a house that sat up on a hill. There were steep steps up to the front gate, which squeaked when you opened it and the garden was overgrown and unkept. Jeff said it was haunted. He used to make me deliver the paper to this house. He used to tease me about it and i always got butterflies in my stomach as i set my bike down and removed their paper from the bag. I would run up the steps really fast, and leave the paper on the path. I never told Jeff i didn’t go right to the door. I didn’t want him to think i was coward or anything like that. Some Saturdays we would take the train to Mcdonalds in Croydon and eat two big Macs, with a triple thick shake and an apple pie. It was the only one in the UK. Jeff had been to America and he knew everything about Mcdonalds. We were just two perfectly normal teenagers having fun, hanging out.

So you’re probably wondering what we got up to. Well you’re going to be surprised because what i’m about to tell you is scary. It will scare you shitless!