A Cockney's Journey (3 page)

    “If we can get up there, we can get in,” Tony said excitedly.
    “We need a rope,” I said. “It’s the only way to get up there.”
    “Where are we going to get a rope from?” Tommy asked sheepishly.
    “Let’s have a look around and see what we can find,” I said.
    As we looked around the building, it became quite clear to me that this place hadn’t been used in years; completely derelict.
    “Nothing,” Tony said. “I can’t believe there’s sod all here to use. My dad’s got a rope in the garage. I could go home and get it. If I run I could be back here in an hour. What do ya think, lads?”
    “It’s half past twelve, Tony,” I said.
    “Let’s go home and come back tomorrow,” Tommy pleaded.
    “I’ll wait for ya, Tony,” said Brian.
    “OK, Tony, get going,” I agreed reluctantly. “I’ll wait till half past one.”
    With that assurance, Tony legged it immediately, disappearing into the dense woodland.
    “Wait for me,” Tommy shouted. But it was too late. There’s one thing about Tony; he can shift when he has to. Tommy was seriously stressed. “I wanted to go home,” he said.
    “Look, just be patient,” I told him. “This is something we need to do, OK, mate?” I said, glaring at him.
    “Fine,” was his reply.
    All three of us sat on a tombstone and waited for Tony. I lit up a fag, filling my lungs with smoke. Sitting there quietly, I drifted off into deep thoughts…
    “Hurry up, Ed. We’re going to miss the coach,” Danny moaned. “OK, I’m coming. Just give me a tick.”
    We both legged it up the street to the school gates. The coach was half full. Mums and dads were seeing their kids off. I’d never been on a school holiday before, what an adventure! Tony and Brian were already on the coach, peering out of the window laughing at Danny and me.
    “Didn’t think you were going to make it,” Tony laughed as we both boarded the coach and sat down.
    “Neither did I,” Danny blurted out. “Ed was still packing his bags at 8:30.” He laughed. The coach started to pull away. I was looking out of the window to see if my mum or dad had bothered to come and see me off but they hadn’t.
    “Well,” Brian said, “this is it. Sayers Croft, here we come.”
    Mr. Parkin stood up and started to lecture us on how to behave when we arrived, laying down his own set of rules.
    “How much money you got to spend, Brian?” Tony asked.
    “My dad gave me a tenner,” he replied.
    God, I thought. He’s rich. I only had two ten bob notes to my name.
    “What about you, Dan?”
    “Seven pounds my nan gave me.” Danny’s parents divorced and he now lived with his nan in the same street as me.
    “What about you, Tony?” Brian asked.
    “Twenty pounds,” was his reply.
    You’re having a laugh. Mind you, his dad was a black cab driver and they always had money and holidays abroad. “How about you, Ed?”
    “Not a lot,” I sighed. “They’re supposed to post me some money during the week,” I said, unconvincingly.
    How could they do this to me; a bloody pound to last two weeks?
    There was a loud crack and rustling in the bushes. I jumped up and saw Tony moving towards us, carrying his dad’s tow rope around his neck.
    “That was quick,” I said, all surprised.
    “Yeah, found a shortcut on the way back. Come on then, let’s get up there and try this rope out.” Tony started to put a big knot in the end of the rope. Several attempts later, the knot finally settled between the gaps in the crenulations on top of the wall. He put one foot on the wall and gave a large tug on the rope. “Sound,” he said, “who’s first?” Brian walked over, grabbed the rope, gave it a tug and pulled himself up.
    “Come on, Ed,” he whispered. “It’s easy.” I started to pull myself up, noticing that the brickwork was uneven. It really was easy; just like climbing a ladder. Within a minute, all four of us were on the flat roof. We stood there for a few seconds looking over the cemetery.
This is scary stuff.
So dark and not a sound to hear, apart from Tommy’s heavy breathing as he struggled to get up. Tommy started to pull the rope up when suddenly there was a loud scream. It came from the woods in front of the church. I froze with fear. Straining my eyes into the shadows, I caught a glimpse of the bushes moving rapidly. A tall figure came running out into the clearing towards the church. A lump rose in my throat that almost choked me. It was at this point that Tommy dropped the rope, but no one noticed.
    We were all crouched down behind the parapet wall peering through the gaps, dreading what we would see. No one said a word. We watched this figure dressed in a black hooded cloak approach the wall where we had climbed up. Suddenly he, or it, was out of view. I realised he must be up against the wall. At the time we didn’t know it, but it was a good job Tommy dropped the rope. Otherwise it would have been seen hanging there and we would have been rumbled. All of a sudden we heard voices below.
Shit, there’s more than one.
What have I got myself into? I looked at Tony and his expression, and that of the others, was a look of abject terror. I tried to make out what was being said below but it was all mumbled. I could only pick out a couple words. “Sacrifice,” one voice said. “The rules,” said the other. I felt a shiver run down my spine and I started to feel light-headed. Suddenly, the talking stopped and it fell silent again. After a few minutes I knew they had gone.
    “Now what?” I whispered to Tony.
    “We must get out of here,” Brian said. Tony nodded his head in agreement; his eyes were wild with shock. Tommy, ashen-faced and trembling, said nothing.
    I pointed out that Tommy dropped the bloody rope.
    “Bloody great,” Tony said sarcastically.
    “We’ve got no choice; we have to climb into the church and look for a way out,” Brian suggested, reluctantly.
    While crossing the flat roof I noticed that two of the windows were broken. I pointed this out to the others. Tony stuck his head through one and shone his torch into the darkness below.
    “Yeah, there’s a bookcase just below the window. We can climb down onto it and lower ourselves to the ground.” Within seconds he was in and standing on the top of this old bookcase. “Very sturdy, this is,” he assured us. “Come on, it’s a piece of cake.” So I climbed in through the window, my mind full of misgivings. “Climb down, Ed, we can’t get all of us on here.”
    “OK, let me get my bearings first,” I replied.
    I dropped to the side of the bookcase and then I was hanging there, reluctant to let go. I had no idea how high I was, or if anything was underneath me. I closed my eyes and dropped. Why I closed my eyes I haven’t got a clue; I couldn’t see anyway. I landed on my feet and sighed with relief. “OK I’m in,” I whispered. One by one they dropped down. Tony shone his torch around. There were a few rows of pews and at the far end was a funny shaped altar. To the left and right were identical arch-shaped doors. Opposite, on the right of the pews, stood two large entrance doors.
    “That’s the way out,” Tommy yelled excitedly.
    “Not so bloody loud, you knob,” Brian barked.
    We started to move towards the large doors when suddenly the torch went out.
    “Oh no, the bloody batteries have died,” Tony gasped.
    We stood there in silence, listening to Tony shaking and banging the torch on the palm of his hand.
    “It’s not going to have it,” he informed us.
Now this is what I call bang in the shit.
    “Ed’s got a lighter,” Brian muttered in a low voice.
    As he was saying it, I was already rummaging around in my pockets, feeling for my lighter. There was a click and a sudden surge of light appeared; much brighter than a candle.
Pukka lighters these petrol ones
.
    “Blimey, that’s nice and bright,” said Tony.
    “Yeah,” I said, all cocky and feeling proud of myself. “And it’s full up.” I put a fag into the flame and took a large drag, blowing a cloud of smoke in their direction. “Right, let’s see if we can budge these doors,” I said, pointing the lighter.
    “Not a chance, they must be six inches thick,” Brian remarked, disappointedly.
    “Yeah, you’re right mate. There must be another way out,” Tony said.
    “Let’s try one of those doors over by the altar,” I suggested.
    As we moved towards the door on the left, there was a horrible and loud howling noise that stopped us dead in our tracks.
    “Fuck! What was that?” Brian said, trembling.
    “Quiet will you, otherwise every motherfucker will know we’re in here,” Tony hissed aggressively with facial expressions to match. We stood there in total silence in front of the door. There was a dragging sound coming from the other side of the chapel. In fact, it sounded like it was outside the main entrance door. I flipped the lid on my lighter shut plunging us into darkness. I whispered in Tony’s ear, “Someone’s coming!” Suddenly, there were a lot of jangling noises and pushing; something was trying to open the main doors and it was obvious they were having trouble getting them open. I thought there must be a few of them. God help us. I reached out in the darkness, frantically feeling for the door handle. Eventually, my hand felt metal and I pushed it down. Realising the door was stiff, I leant on it with my shoulder. The door creaked as it opened slowly. “Come on, follow me,” I whispered. “Quickly.”
    Once inside, I shut the door tight and lit my lighter. We were standing on a small stone floor, with steps spiralling down. As we moved towards the stone stairs there was a thud.
    “Arghhh!” Tommy cried, as he fell to the ground.
    “Quiet!” Brian shushed.
    I pointed my lighter in the direction of the noise; Tommy was sitting on the floor holding his foot.
    “That bloody hurt,” he said. “I tripped over that lump of iron lying on the floor.”
    On the floor by Tommy’s feet lay a four-foot long iron pole, about two inches round, and completely rusty.
    “Great. Let’s prop it up against the door,” Tony said quietly. He picked it up and wedged it in a mortar joint in the floor, pushing the pole under the cross beam on the door.
    No one’s getting through that door, I thought gleefully.
    “Come on. Let’s get down those stairs,” Tony ordered. “You first, Ed; you’ve got the lighter.”
    I was just about to put my foot on the first step when we heard all the commotion coming from inside the church. I flipped my lighter shut and once again we were in total darkness.
    “They’re inside the church,” Brian informed us. He was pretty good at stating the bloody obvious. All four of us stood rigid on the spot, five feet from the propped-shut door. I could see a faint light coming through the cracks in the doorframe. It sounded like there was a large gathering on the other side. We could hear feet shuffling and a lot of whispering but couldn’t understand what was being said. Then came that howling noise again, followed by a series of chants. The hairs on my neck and arms stood up like a hairbrush and I felt all hot and clammy.
    “What’s happening?” Tommy beseeched.
    “It’s obvious; satanic worshippers. I told you, didn’t I?” Tony whispered. With that, I struck my lighter and moved a bit lively down the stairs with the rest following at the same speed.
    “How far down does this bloody go?” I gasped.
    “It must lead underground,” Tony reckoned. “Where we saw those iron gates in the cemetery, Ed.”
    “Of course, that’s how we’ll get out.”
    “Do you mean we’ll have to go through the crypt to get out?” Tommy asked, now visibly trembling.
    “Unfortunately we have to, Tom,” I sighed.
    “Bloody hell,” raged Brian. “What have we got ourselves into?”
    As we continued our descent, I noticed how cold and damp the air was. There was a strange musky smell and the stairs seem to get narrower. I found it difficult to balance.
Must be near the bottom.
I stopped for a second and held my arm out straight. My lighter was flickering.
    “There’s a draught coming in from somewhere,” I whispered.
    As I turned round to face the others, I slipped and dropped the lighter, plunging us into darkness again. I panicked.
    “Don’t move, none of you. I’ll find it,” I reassured them. I leant on the wall to get my balance. “Oh my God! What’s this?” I screamed. My hand sank into the wall; it felt like I had put my hand into a bowl of custard. Pulling my hand away from the wall, I knelt down on the stone stairs wiping my hand on the treads in a desperate attempt to remove the stuff.
    “What’s happening, Ed?” Brian asked in a trembling voice.
    “Nothing, I put my hand in something.”
    While cleaning the stuff off my hands I hit the lighter.
My God, if ever there was a time for a miracle this was it.
    “Found it,” I said. The stairs lit up. I looked at my hand; it was covered in this white stuff, like some sort of fungi. At last, we were at the bottom of the stairs. I waved the lighter around and noticed an archway to the right of me. Cobwebs hung everywhere and on one of the cobwebs I noticed a large spider with its eyes upon us, as if watching our every move. This is it; the way out, I hoped. But something strange happened; the lighter stopped flickering.
    We continued through the archway and a feeling of dread came all over me. I can’t explain why, but it felt like we were not the only ones down there. The whole place reeked of evil. We walked into a large basement vault and stood there, motionless. Stacked around the walls were coffins and in the middle of the room was a massive uneven black marble table with stained large metal bowls and used black candles at one end. To the right was a small lectern with an open book. In the far corner was a small iron gate, ajar.