OUR TEAM MEMBER, AUTHOR EVA BIELBY, IS SHARING HER 'TALES BY FIRELIGHT' STORY TODAY - 'FINDING THE WAY' #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat

Finding the Way

by Eva Bielby

The four girls had been excited for the last week or so. Finally, Saturday arrived and their overnight camping trip was about to begin. The reason for their excitement is that it is the first time they have ever been allowed to go away unaccompanied by their parents. It was a nice feeling to be trusted at last and they had no wish to abuse their parent’s trust by inviting boyfriends to tag along. Besides, if they behaved themselves this time, they would hopefully be allowed to go again at some point…and perhaps for longer.

The camping paraphernalia was all packed into Chloe’s dad’s car the previous evening. All they needed to do this morning was to pick up their backpacks and the cool-box which contained a few supplies.

Chloe was almost through with lunch when her cell phone rang. It was Charlie’s mum. Apparently, Charlie had succumbed to a stomach bug that was doing the rounds and she would not be able to join the gang as planned. Chloe sent her love for Charlie and told her mum to assure her, that there would hopefully, be further opportunities during the summer months.

Once lunch was over Mr Jackson hurried Chloe along. He wanted to get there and back to leave himself with plenty of time to cut the grass in their rather over-sized garden. They were stopping off en route to collect Jenny and Elaine, Chloe’s other friends, and classmates.

*****

It didn’t take long before the girls started singing along with the radio. Mr Jackson smiled to hear their high spirits, but not knowing any of the lyrics to the current chart-toppers, he asked if the girls liked eighties music. In unison they all said, yes they did. He promptly switched the radio to a different channel and happily joined in with the girls as they sang along to Duran Duran, Madonna, The Police and Prince. When they were three or four miles away from the area they planned to pitch their tents, Chloe turned the radio off. At the three mile point she spotted the ideal camping spot.

“Here, Dad! Dad, STOP! Right here, please!” Chloe urged. Her father’s foot hit the brake and the car came to a grinding halt.

“Here? Are you sure, darling? Why here?”

“See over there?” Chloe waved her hand to indicate the stunning scenery. “There’s a gorgeous little stream over there, woods pretty close by, which will be handy for twigs and branches for firewood. Plus, it’s not too far from the road.”

Elaine and Jenny opened the rear passenger doors and climbed out. After kissing her father goodbye, Chloe jumped out and joined them at the side of the road and together they pulled the tent, sleeping bags and backpacks from the boot.

Chloe’s father lowered the driver’s side window for a few final words. “So, let me get this right, your Dad will be picking you up late afternoon tomorrow, Elaine. Is that right?”

“Yes! He’ll be here for us, Mr Jackson. Don’t worry.” Elaine reassured him.

“Please be careful when lighting fires, girls. Have you all got fully charged pho…?”

“Yes, Dad. And solar chargers. We’re seventeen, not five. Now stop stressing… and go.” Chloe butted in. She turned her back on the car and rolled her eyes skyward as her father pulled away.

“Dads, eh? Bloody Hell! We’ve grabbed the fourth sleeping bag. We’ll have to take it with us now he’s gone. Never mind.” Chloe cursed.

“Damn. I sure wish Charlie was with us though. What a time for her to pick up that stomach bug. Let’s hope we haven’t picked it up from her.” Said Elaine.

The other girls muttered in agreement. Together they picked up all the baggage and set off to haul it twenty yards back down the main road and through a well-worn gap in the hawthorn hedge. Making their way across the field so they could be close to the stream, each of them would occasionally stumble under the heavy load due to the terrain being so uneven.

“Hey, Elaine, how is your Dad going to find us tomorrow? He doesn’t even know where we are.”

“He’ll find us, trust me. He’s put one of those tracker apps on my phone. We tried it out a couple of days ago and it actually works. I’ll remove the app once we’re back home though. I can’t have him knowing where I am all the time.”

Half an hour later, they’d located an ideal spot by the stream, the tent was up (despite their hysterical laughter throughout) and they had also made a quick trip into the woods to collect suitable dry material for the campfire.

Back at camp, they sat quietly and devoured some of the sandwiches and snacks which Chloe’s Mum thoughtfully and lovingly prepared for them. Chloe recalled the conversation.

“It’ll save you doing too much in the way of cooking!”

“Other than breakfast, we won’t be cooking, Mum. That would mean having to take more stuff with us.”

“Then what will you eat? You can’t go without.”

“Snacks, nibbles, cookies and things. It won’t hurt us to miss a cooked meal or two, will it? We’ve got sausages, eggs and bacon ready in the cool-box. It’ll be enough for a decent breakfast.”

They set about lighting the fire at eight o’clock but they found it difficult to get the leaves and small twigs they’d collected for tinder to keep alight long enough. Chloe surprised the girls though, she had come prepared. From her backpack, she pulled out a sealed food-bag which contained cotton wool balls laced with Vaseline - a tip she had picked up from her father’s many camping trips. Thankfully, the tinder was glowing in no time. It was mid-May and though the days were very warm, the temperatures could plunge dramatically in the early evening. The girls shivered as they took turns to add more twigs to the already glowing tinder.

“Oh look, there’s a girl heading this way,” said Elaine, pointing her finger. “I wonder where she’s going…”

Chloe and Jenny turned to look. The girl headed towards them. When she was twenty five yards away, the stranger waved at them. They returned the gesture.

“Hi!” Elaine shouted. “What are you doing out here, walking alone?”

“Hello. I’m just heading home. I live in Doulton, four miles away. It’s a small village.”

Now close up, the girl watched on as they continued to feed what was fast becoming a roaring fire. She looked to be of a similar age to the rest of them and quickly became involved in their continuous chit-chat. Elaine in particular, found the girl friendly and endearing,

“Are your parents expecting you home soon? If not, you’re welcome to stay for the night. We have a spare sleeping bag and it’ll be dark soon. You don’t want to be walking four miles alone in the pitch black. We sit around the fire and tell spooky tales after dark. We have to guess whether the stories are true or false.”

“My parents won’t be expecting me home until tomorrow. If you really don’t mind, I’d enjoy that very much. Thank you. I suppose I’d better introduce myself properly. I’m Sharon.”

Once the full round of introductions were complete, the girls settled around the fire until darkness closed in. They passed the snacks around and not forgetting her good manners, Chloe offered some to Sharon.

“Would you like something, Sharon? There’s plenty to go round.”

“That’s kind of you…Chloe, isn’t it? I’m not particularly hungry or thirsty, thank you all the same. I just finished a sandwich and a Cola before I came across you all.”

After they finished their snacks, darkness had fallen. Twigs were drawn to decide who would be the first to start the tales.

Jenny was up first and her story of how she was abducted by aliens (and whisked away to Pluto) as a five year old came in for plenty of scorn and derision from the others as they all declared the tale “FALSE!”

Chloe was up next and regaled the girls with her story of a haunted bedroom in a nursing home on the outskirts of her town. The stream of old ladies who had resided in that particular room, had all reported to staff on many occasions, that any pink items were constantly flung around, ripped or smashed when the ladies were absent from the room. As her audience gawped at her, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, Chloe claimed the ghost story to be true. Her mum worked as assistant manager at the home.

The girls waited in anticipation for Sharon’s contribution to the evening. She glanced around at their faces and, a tad nervous in front of her new friends, she began her narrative.

“Okay! Three years ago there was a local girl killed in a motorbike accident about five hundred yards back on that stretch of road over there. It was very sad. Her boyfriend survived the accident, though he suffered multiple injuries, mainly to his leg. He now spends his life in a wheelchair.

Apparently, Steve, the girl’s boyfriend, remembers losing control of the bike around a fairly sharp bend. It veered off the road and crashed into an oak tree. He told the police that immediately before impact, he tilted his body to the side. That’s why only one leg was smashed up against the tree. Some of the bones were crushed completely. According to his friends, he now has a titanium rod in there, but the nerves and muscles were mostly damaged beyond repair. He also recalls trying to brake but his bike seemed to be accelerating. Seventy miles per hour he said. Anyway, the girlfriend lost her life and Steve hardly has much to say to anyone these days. He’ll never walk again.”

“Oh God! How terribly sad.” remarked Elaine. “But is that it, Sharon?”

“No. There’s more. The girl had confided in her friends about her relationship with Steve. She told them she heard several rumours doing the rounds through friends of friends, his workmates and so on, that Steve was seeing another girl. Also, she related that he’d acted ‘cool’ towards her and skipped several dates. He’d call her up and make various pathetic excuses for being unable to see her.”

Jenny was incensed.

“Oh, yes! Standard practice for a guy who’s cheating. Poor girl. Sorry to interrupt! Carry on, Sharon.”

“That’s alright, Jenny. So, one of her friends, Jo, happened to know that on the night of the accident, the poor lass had caught a bus from Doulton to Hemmersley. She’d said she was hoping to find Steve exactly where he said he would be – out with his mates in their usual hangout. Jo didn’t know exactly where the lads hung out but she received a call from the distraught girl once she’d arrived in Hemmersley. She was beside herself with worry about whether she was doing the right thing. Should she confront him or not? She knew that if she saw him with another female it would break her heart. Her temptation to get back on the bus and return to Doulton was strong, but one way or another, she had to know. Jo knew she would go looking for him and she did. Steve was where he said he would be, but not only with his buddies, there was a blonde with him. She had one arm draped around Steve’s shoulder and her head resting against his. Apparently, she tackled him about his cheating, threw some obscenities at the blonde and between the three, it caused rather a nasty scene in the pub. They got thrown out for upsetting the other clientele. The poor lass was broken-hearted. Her sobs eventually died down and she allowed Steve to comfort her. He told his friends that he was taking her home on his motorbike. They watched on as the pair climbed on the bike and sped off. The blonde he had been with, also witnessed the upsetting scene and rapidly disappeared, in what the lads described as ‘a stonking mood’. She couldn’t believe Steve had abandoned her to take the abusive female home. And…and that’s it really, girls. You already know how it ended up. It’s true. She…she lived in my village.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“What about her parents, Sharon? You know them. How did they take her death? They must have been so distraught? Do they have any more children? How terrible for them all, if so. How the hell…?” asked Jenny, her caring and empathic nature coming to the fore as she continued to bombard Sharon with her questions.

“Yes! Yes, I know them well. I…I’ve popped in to see them a few times. You…you know. To try and c…comfort them. But I wasn’t able to h…help them really. I mean…how do you off…offer to… Sorry. G…give me a minute.”

Sharon wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket and took several deep breaths. After a minute or two she had regained her composure.

“Sorry about that, girls. I’m just being silly. To answer your question Jenny, she did have a brother, younger than she was. He died in a tragic drowning accident when he was around eight or nine years old. Rumour has it he was a great swimmer but he got caught up in a strong undercurrent. She was all they had left. How can you hope to help and comfort people who have lost everything? It must be devastating to lose your children so tragically. And…I couldn’t help them. All I could do was be there for them as they sobbed.”

The girls couldn’t think of anything else to say to Sharon. They sat in silence and stared into the last feeble flames for a few minutes; a sort of silent ‘paying of respects’ to the dead girl and thoughts for the grief-stricken parents.

“We’re so very sorry, Sharon. Truly, we are,” offered Elaine.

Chloe and Jenny whispered similar comforting words. Sharon remained reticent for a short time but nodded, acknowledging their kindness.

The story hadn’t exactly been the kind of campfire story the other girls had had in mind, but it was one that Sharon had clearly needed to tell so nobody seemed to mind.

The stranger’s sad story somewhat dampened the mood, but as the last embers of the fire died out, Elaine told an extremely lengthy, far-fetched and rather rude story about the wicked fairies and gnomes who lived in her father’s orchard. Elaine didn’t hold back as she indulged the girls with the rude antics of the magical yet naughty beings. The other girls were thrilled with the tale and were still falling about with laughter long after they climbed into their sleeping bags, Elaine still attempting to convince them all that it was true.

On waking the following morning, Chloe took charge of lighting what would be their last fire and started preparing breakfast. The smell of bacon and sausages frying in the pan wafted through the air and the girls crowded round as Chloe prepared to dish up. Sharon, however, turned down their offer of breakfast saying she would get fed by her mum when she arrived home. As the girls sat down to eat, Sharon bade them all goodbye, thanked them profusely and resumed her homeward journey.

“Strange girl,” said Elaine.

“A little maybe, I admit,” agreed Chloe, “but I do feel sorry for her.”

Jenny agreed with Chloe but a sadness she couldn’t explain crept in. She needed a distraction as her mood was getting a little maudlin.

“Come on, girls. Let’s go for a dip.”

It was a glorious warm and sunny day. After the girls had changed, they launched themselves into the stream, swimming in the deeper parts and paddling in the shallows where Jenny also found some interesting stones and gathered about a dozen for her mum for some craft project or other. After partaking of what remained of their snacks around lunchtime, they packed up the tent and other paraphernalia before traipsing through the woodland. Jenny was busy collecting some pine cones, twigs and other items for yet another of her mum’s craft projects. Five o’clock came all too soon and Elaine’s father arrived to collect them. They were ready and waiting, sitting on their baggage at the side of the road. It had been their first night of freedom – alone without parents. All three considered it to have been a great success.

Three Days Later...

Chloe, Jenny, Elaine and the recently-recovered Charlie, left college early. They had no lectures that afternoon so they ventured into town. Both Jenny and Elaine needed a new study book. Chloe and Charlie had already purchased their copies the previous week. In the bookshop, Chloe sauntered away to peruse the paranormal section and soon joined the girls at the queue for the tills.

“Hey! Look what I’ve found, girls. It’s the latest – Volume Four of North Yorkshire Spooky Stories.”

“You and your damn ghost stories! You’ll become a ghost eventually, I’m certain of it!” Charlie laughed.

Next stop was the coffee shop. Elaine, Charlie and Jenny were busy discussing that morning’s lectures as they sipped their cappuccinos. Chloe’s head however, was already buried in her latest purchase as she flipped over the pages, totally oblivious to her friends and their conversation.

“Oh. My. God.” exclaimed Chloe. “Listen! Listen to this. There’s a story about a girl in here, well, she’s a ghost really. She haunts a stretch of the road between Hemmersley and Doulton, hitch-hiking whenever she sees a lone motorcyclist. Some car drivers have even noticed her. The bikers stop and she climbs on to ride pillion. Later, as they approach the bend in the road, the bikers all report the stranger's hand gripping tightly over theirs to open up the throttle. Quite a few of the men have spoken up. They’ve been lucky each time in gaining back control and managing to avoid an accident. They all stopped to check on their passenger but there was no trace of her; she was gone. This must be the girl Sharon told us about.”

“Who’s Sharon?” Charlie asked.

Jenny stood.

“Tell you later, Charlie. Come on! Quick! Let’s hurry. We have to get to the library before it closes.”

They abandoned their coffees, bolted from the coffee shop and ran down the high street.

“Why, Jenny?” shouted Elaine as she, Charlie and Chloe panted, trying to keep up. "Why are we going to the library?"

“Just wait. You’ll soon see!” Jenny yelled back over her shoulder.

Ten minutes later they were ensconced around one of the library’s PCs with Jenny’s fingers flying over the keyboard. Her finger hit the enter key and a website soon appeared on screen for the Daily Yorks. Jenny clicked on the tab for Archives this time. She typed ‘Motorbike Accidents’ in the search bar and ‘2-4 years’ for the appropriate date range. It didn’t take long before a headline appeared; GIRL KILLED IN MOTORBIKE SMASH – BOYFRIEND SURVIVES. Alongside the story was a picture. The girls’ mouths gaped in disbelief. The girl in the photo was Sharon. The article went on to give her full name, Sharon Cook, and Steve was also mentioned – Steven Howie.

“It’s her! It’s Sharon!”

Charlie gaped at the picture then at each of the girls in turn. She looked puzzled.

“But…but she was real…wasn’t she?” Elaine stammered.

“She…she was going home,” whispered Jenny.

**********

© Eva Bielby 2025

COMING SOON: On Wednesday, 20th August, we are delighted to welcome back podcaster and guest author, Michael Sanchez, who will be sharing his novel, 'The Stevedores - What Lies They Tell'.