The ghost of Ballynashack
By Brendan Mc Crossan. 10th July 2002.How he hated this country with its twisted windy roads and back lanes, and continuous rain He never wanted to come to Ireland in the first place, but his editor insisted he go to Ballynashack in the middle of Ireland somewhere. His editor told him he was to investigate a story about an Irish ghost seen in Ballynashack, apparently it will talk to people which was a strange thing for a ghost to do.
‘God almighty’ he moaned as his car went down another large puddle hole in the road. Do they not fix the roads around here, he sighed, I’M going to have no car left at this rate. Blast this flipping place!
He arrived just on the outskirts of Ballynashack late at night and as he searched for somewhere to stay the bumping of his back wheel alerted him something was wrong. Getting out of the car he saw that he had a flat tyre. Cursing and swearing he kicked the tyre, then he opened the boot of the car to get a new tyre out. He cursed again, he had forgotten to check if this rental car had a spare tyre and it did not. This is a blooming backward country he moaned.
The rain beat down heavily on him the wind whipping it into his eyes. He decided to walk and try and find somewhere to
stay and get the car fixed in the morning, that’s if they have a garage in this god forsaken place.
Walking towards Ballynashack he pulled his coat around him trying to keep warm but he was already drenched through and shivered with the cold. As he walked the rain eased and settled into a little misty drizzle.
He was so engrossed in his discomfort he never noticed the young girl until he bumped into her. Startled he jumped backwards, squinting his eyes to see through the rain, trying to see what he walked into. He was surprised to see a young girl of about 23 looking at him.
IM sorry I didn’t see you miss, he apologised. That’s ok, she replied. Could you tell me, he continued, is there somewhere around here where I could stay for the night? Yes, she replied, there’s Murphy’s bed and breakfast just a half a mile away, Ill walk with you and show you where it is if you like?
He was glad of the company, he didn’t like this place it was dark and creepy and he shivered with a strange tingling sensation running up and down the back of his neck and the hairs on his neck stood on end. This place scared him, he was glad she was accompanying him.
As they walked along they chatted away.
What is your name? He enquired, mine is Mike. Susan, she replied. He reached out his hand and they shook hands. Her hand was cold. He thought, blooming Irish weather, she’s freezing too. It was
only then that he realised that she had no coat on, just a light cream coloured cardigan over a blue blouse, and a black skirt. She’s pretty he thought. Very pale complexion, no wonder though with all this bloody rain and no sunshine.
His thoughts then returned to why he was here in this God forsaken place, and he asked her.
Did she ever see anything strange, or hear any stories about a ghost being seen in this area? A ghost that talked to people.
Never in all my days here have I ever seen a ghost, she replied. Sure there’s no such thing, and she laughed. There’s only the travellers around here, she continued.
Blooming Gypsy’s are everywhere, he muttered, disappointed that she hadn’t seen a ghost or heard of one.
Just travellers, she said again and laughed.
Here we are this is Murphy’s. she said as they arrived at a lovely looking cottage. She knocked at the door and stepped back motioning him to move forward.
Turning to thank her he was shocked to see her vanish before his very eyes.
Just travellers, she said as she disappeared.
As Mrs Murphy opened the door he rushed in past her knocking her aside he was shaking with terror.
Close the door close the door! He screamed, don’t let it in. He collapsed in a heap in a chair.
Mrs Murphy smiled knowingly and said. I see you met Susan she was one of the travellers. Nice girl, very friendly and talkative.
I presume you need a room, she enquired. Would you like
something to eat? or to drink. No thank you I am just to worn out to eat or drink, I just need somewheretoliedownandsleep,I’Mtoshockedtoeatordrink.
Come and I’ll show you your room. Mrs Murphy said leading him upstairs and showing him into a lovely little cosy room with a large double bed. After Mrs Murphy left he undressed and climbed into bed and was soon fast asleep.
Chapter 2
He awoke next morning to the sound of a cockerel crowing, he looked at his watch and was surprised to see it was after 10-o-clock. Getting out of bed he washed and shaved and put on fresh clothes.
Going downstairs he was surprised to find no one there. He called out, hullo Mrs Murphy are you there?
But she never answered; the house was silent except for the sound of the cockerel crowing and hens cackling outside. That’s strange he thought, maybe she is at the shop. I’ll leave some money for my keep on the table and go see if I can find a garage and get the tyre fixed.
Making his way towards the little village square he came across a garage. Going inside he found the owner working at a car.
Could you mend a puncture for me, he enquired. Looking up the garage owner smiled and said, of course where is your car?
Just outside the village, he answered. I’ll show you.
Getting into the garage owners car they went to retrieve the punctured tyre and brought it back to the garage, and the garage owner soon mended it.
As the garage owner fitted the mended wheel back on the car, he asked. Did you just break down?
No, mike replied, I broke down last night and a ghost girl showed me a place where I could stay, scared the wits out of me she did, disappeared in front of my eyes. My goodness that must have been Susan she was a traveller, she died a few years ago. He sighed deeply A lovely girl she was, I remember her well. She took me to Mrs Murphy’s house, said mike, and I stayed there last night, she was a lovely girl. And Mrs Murphy is a kindly woman as well she keeps a beautiful guesthouse, and a very tidy flower filled garden. The garage owner looked at him and said. You stayed at Mrs Murphy’s house last night? A plump lady with brown hair aged about 54!
Yes, Mike replied smiling kicking his tyre. She’s a really nice woman.
Mrs Murphy died twenty years ago and her guesthouse has been boarded up since then. Look at it and see for yourself. Said the garage owner haltingly. Look! and he pointed at the house.
Mike turned and looked at the guesthouse where he spent the night, saw that it was indeed boarded up, and the garden was over grown with weeds. Gasping with shock and turning sheet white he thrust money into the hands of the garage owner and jumped into his car and sped away, swearing as he left he
would get out of Ireland as fast as he could and never return.
You would think he’d never seen a ghost before, muttered the garage owner and went back inside his garage. As it faded away in the early morning sunshine.