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    Where A Good Man Falls: The Spirit of Peterborough, #4
    Where A Good Man Falls: The Spirit of Peterborough, #4
    Where A Good Man Falls: The Spirit of Peterborough, #4
    Ebook87 pages1 hour

    Where A Good Man Falls: The Spirit of Peterborough, #4

    By Tom Goymour

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    About this ebook

       A family move to a picturesque village just outside Peterborough but soon find that their new home, their friendly neighbour, and it seems, perhaps the whole area are harbouring a secret from the past that only they can uncover. As the McBrides find themselves being drawn deeper into this mystery ghostly clues start to surface, and they soon realise there is far more to it than just moving to a haunted house. . . so how does it involve them? 

        The Spirit of Peterborough is always there. watching, seeing through all of time in a glimpse of an eye as he dips in and tells the story that unfolds before him. 

        Now, open your mind and be ready, and I pledge you will never see your home town or city in quite the same light again . . . but afterwards, perhaps that light will burn for you just a little brighter

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherVerbum Publications
    Release dateFeb 28, 2017
    ISBN9781386268857
    Where A Good Man Falls: The Spirit of Peterborough, #4

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      Book preview

      Where A Good Man Falls - Tom Goymour

      Prologue

      People have always come to this city. Like any other, it has attracted all types of folk over the centuries. The suburban areas have expanded with time, engulfing the greenery and swelling the population as they've grown. But I can see the places that are untouched by time, pockets of the past that can still turn out their secrets, and reveal their story to those who probe – to those who are driven to search deeper.

      Many, many years ago, a young man travelled to these parts by foot from some thirty miles or so away to begin a new life.  I swear I saw him once . . . one summer evening, long, long ago, but his is another story.

      What I'm going to show you now happened quite recently to a couple who also found themselves drawn to the area from a place of similar distance away. They too were searching, looking to improve their lives, and, as they found themselves probing deeper into the past, the underlying messages became gradually clearer.

      But where does this story unfold?

      Very nearby, in fact quite close to where that young man who travelled spent many summer days all those years ago until befell upon him one particularly tragic summer evening! 

      I look to the West and beyond the river. Ah! Such variety in the landscape . . . green fields break up the suburban clutter as the land suddenly loses its flatness. I see a village, unspoilt by the brutality of twenty-first century modernism, its deepest beauty still only ever slightly touched.

      On a hill stands a church. It is early spring, and I can see someone there searching for something that is very important to him. As I drift and watch from high I know what is coming, I know they have a mission to complete. Their journey is only just beginning, right now, here in this place.

      * * * * *

      1. The Search

      "Never shall a true man rest

      when a Spirits' echo calls,

      For acts of strange will come to pass

      Where a good man falls."

      He looked around despondently. They had been there for half an hour or so on this warm afternoon in early spring and yet – nothing. Beth looked across, her expression was blank, as if to say, I told you so but I don't want it to show because I'm actually feeling a little sorry for you!

      Joseph McBride glanced back at his wife.

      I'm just going to look over the east wing, if there's nothing there, then . . . it will be time to go I guess.

      His voice was flat in tone, as if he didn’t believe anything was going to turn up right now.

      All right darling, his wife replied.

      Come on Harry, let's go back to the car and you can help me put these away.  She had some plants bought from a roadside stall a mile or so before they entered the village.

      Little Harry bounded after his mother as she headed out of the churchyard to the slope of the hill at the junction where the family car was parked.

      Beth and Joseph McBride were a couple in their thirties, Joseph just a little older than Beth. His short beard, dark, neatly cropped hair and thin-framed glasses made him look perhaps a little older Beth thought. She liked this about him though, somehow he displayed a sharp intelligence through his deep-set eyes. Beth on the other hand was a small woman of fair features. She looked up to her husband, after all he was the architect, and the one with all the ideas.

      Their son, Harry, was just six, and, on this partially sunny afternoon in late March, they found themselves in the churchyard of St. Kyneburgha's Church in the village of Castor, Cambridgeshire, to the west of Peterborough. Their mission was to search for the grave of Joseph's great grandfather who had supposedly lived in the village sometime shortly after the First World War.

      As Joseph's eyes carefully scanned tombstone after tombstone, he became aware that someone was watching him. At first he ignored this as he tried to concentrate his efforts on finding what he had travelled thirty miles or more with his family to find. Soon however, his gaze caught the eye of an elderly gentleman sitting on a seat towards the east corner of the churchyard.

      Afternoon, the man called out, raising a hand to signal his greeting as he did so. Family or friend? he enquired.

      Joseph was slightly taken aback.

      I'm sorry! replied Joseph, not really wanting to start a conversation but feeling it was only polite to hear what the stranger had to say.

      Is it a family member or a friend . . . the grave you're looking for? Obviously that's what you're about!

      Oh yes of course. Well, actually it’s my great grandfather that we're looking for, he's supposed to have been buried here somewhere. We were just taking a look on the off-chance to see if we could locate his grave.

      Joseph moved closer towards the man so that there was now no need for either of them to raise their voices.

      Well, good luck to you, the stranger replied, there's many a folk buried here, very easy to miss anyone first time around. Anyway, George Mandleson is the name. The man reached forward and offered his hand.

      Joseph. Joseph McBride. The two men shook hands.

      So, what's your mission here, if you don't mind my asking?

      Joseph hesitated for a moment. This chap seemed very interested in his business. Should he engage him? He had to make a quick decision and he could see no harm in answering the old man’s question as he was simply being pleasantly friendly.

      We're from a little way south of here, near Ramsey on the edge of the Fens, but, actually we’ve come to the village for the purpose of ‘house hunting’. We're thinking of moving to the area.

      What's so special about here then? asked George. (He knew the answer really, almost everybody who came to the village fell in love with it sooner rather than later.)

      We just felt sort of drawn to this place, and although we have looked  at some of the surrounding villages, we really like Castor. As it happens I have roots here as well.

      Well, that all sounds good then. I'll tell you what, the house next to me is on the market, stated George with a grin.

      Whereabouts is that then?

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