I used to be very sceptical about ghost stories until ….
A few years ago I found myself staying in the Hilton Hotel in
Barbados on my own, for work. Before anybody says this was a rum induced
experience half way up Mount Gay, let me assure you (and myself) that
for once it wasn’t. I was half way through a month off the booze – just
to prove to myself I could. I had retired to my room early as my work
companions weren’t as angelic and were at the talking scribble stage, so
I left them to it. I’ve never had trouble sleeping – drinking or not – I
put it down to a clean mind and a clear conscience! Naturally.
So off I go to sleep. In the middle of the night I came awake with a
start. I’d better explain that my room was a ground floor one in a two
story wing of the main hotel which extended a long way sideways. Room
110 I’m pretty sure. I remembered that number for next time. Although
the curtains were blackout ones and were drawn, the hotel grounds
outside were pretty well lit and the room wasn’t that dark when your
eyes got used to it.
I opened said eyes and saw there was somebody in the room,
silhouetted again the curtains. The room had a sliding glass door onto a
small balcony, and previous colleagues staying in this part of the
hotel had had problems with break-ins, so I was very wary about moving
before I had assessed the situation. The other person hadn’t moved. Was
just standing there as if he’d just come in through the sliding door.
Because of the history of theft, I’d made damn sure it was locked and
chained before I went to bed.
So what to do? I was wide awake by now. He still stood motionless.
Then I noticed something I hadn’t before. He had a strange head. He was
just a dark shadow and I couldn’t see details, but he seemed to be
wearing a tricorn hat of the kind that 17th & 18th century sailors
wore. Apparently they got wet a lot and the hat acted as a sort of
gutter and kept the rain and sea out of their eyes as they were working.
Pirate? In my room? God knows there were enough of those around
Barbados, but not in the 20th century, as this was at the time.
Nothing happened, so I decided to make something happen. He was still
the other side of the quite large room. I worked out where the bedside
light was, and after several very deep breaths, I lunged at it, turned
it on and leapt out of bed shouting anything that came into my head, but
very loudly. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I’m going to have
that phrase put on my gravestone, I think.
The light came on and I was halfway across the room, stark naked, but
I’ve never been one to worry about that sort of thing unless there’s a
knife involved! There might well have been, but there was absolutely
nothing. No knife; no man in a tricorn hat either.
I thought he may have slipped out the same way he had presumably come
in, so I armed myself with a fairly dangerous looking fruit bowl and
appraised the curtains. Strangely they were still tightly drawn. After a
bit of prodding I found no lumps behind the curtains so opened them to
find the sliding door still locked and chained. I couldn’t believe it. I
checked by unlocking and unchaining and went onto the balcony to look
around. I’m not sure what I expected to find. There were a few people
around who might have been slightly surprised to see a very shaken naked
bloke leaning over the balcony and looking up and down the property. A
passing security guard in a peaked hat sauntered by and wished me good
night. With a grin on his face. It was that sort of hotel. Things were
gotten up to. Especially with my colleagues. The hotel tended to put us
as far away from the normal holidaying punters as they could.....<<<Read More>>>...
