1 Prologue

Prologue: A Strange Ghostly Tale Of Slippery Jake The Regency Rake

This is a story based in a fictional public house, a pub, The Bull. The Bull Public House can be found at a crossroads leading into S W London. As the tale unfolds, it is discovered that there has been a drinking establishment on this site for centuries. It remains a popular pub, having a first-class reputation for serving excellent 'real ale', draught beer that was always well kept, along with a range of superb food. There is also a variety of good musical entertainment. It was also a haunted public house.

Much of the story takes place in the Bull Public House, if not totally in the Lounge Bar.

I will start by introducing the principal character, Slippery Jake. That is the 'resident ghost', 'The Right Hon Jake Horatio, Higginbottom', or 'Slippery Jake' as he was often called. He was a notorious highwayman. Slippery Jake lived in the Regency period of British history. That is 1790 to 1820.

His character may appear to be pretty 'bipolar'. Some accounts relate to how ruthless he was in life. He would hold up stagecoaches and spare no one. Dispatching everyone with a rapier sword, or a brace of pistols. All in all a very malevolent individual. On the other hand, he had a reputation for being very gallant. He was especially courteous to young ladies. Everybody was spared after he attacked a stagecoach. He also frequented the Bull Inn, as it was called then. It was known to be a bit of a 'bawdy house', a place of 'ill repute'. Old Slippery would generously spend his 'ill-gotten gains' on the ladies that frequented the Bull. Of course, having run out of money, he would be out again holding up stagecoaches.

He was a Rake. They are usually associated with the Restoration in the 17th century. However, it could readily be applied to Slippery Jake. He was very much into womanizing along with some gambling and general debauchery. He was a libertine and a hedonist.

There is a transformation throughout the story, as the ghost seems to mellow and come to grips with the new realities of the 21st century.

Two 'ghost recorders', Kevin and Sandra, record his many appearances at the Bull, using their special equipment. The ramifications of these recordings are to have some pretty profound consequences.

Several other characters are central to this story. I am Paul Smith the narrator. I work part-time in a girl's high school as an art and art history teacher, along with some technology. I also have an interest in house restoration and property development. My wife, Isabella, originally from the Philippines, is a gynecologist in a local hospital. Sid and Beryl are the landlord and landlady of the Bull. There are two Eastern European barmaids, Lina from Estonia, Magda from Poland, along with Sven from Sweden. Regulars in the pub include two retired servicemen, Humphrey and Percy. Both were Majors and had seen service in Afghanistan. Agatha, and Margaret, were their respective wives. Detective Chief Inspector John Higgins is also a regular along with his two 'trainee' detectives, John Franks and William Russel. There will be several other characters that will make their appearance as the story unfolds.

Let us not forget the two 'pub' cats; Marigold and Percival. They would spend all day searching out the most comfortable spot in the pub. As the days grew colder they would seek out a radiator, or a spot. closer to the open log fire, a central feature of the Lounge Bar. There is also Beryl's beloved 'Wee Jock'. This is her beloved White Highland Terrier. He is a snappy little dog. Beryl keeps him mainly upstairs away from the two cats.

Chapter One: Introduction

It was one of those cold Autumn afternoons with an accompanying persistent drizzle that was oh so typical of South West London in mid-October. I had just finished school and drove my old car into the Bull Public House car park. Yes, my old car was on its last legs. I called it Samantha. It had something like 70,000 miles around 126,000 kilometers, on the clock. A 'bog standard' Ford Escort, but nonetheless, it had been very reliable over the years. Gerump, bang, shudder, the engine noises had grown louder of late. I was lining up a 'nice' housing deal, which should give me enough for a new motor. I would be sad to see the 'old lady' go through to that great recycling heaven, maybe in the sky, but really to the car dump just down the road.

I generally visited the Bull on a Friday afternoon after school. My school was a girl's high school, an academy. Overall the girls were excellent and there were few 'issues' of the kind you might find in other inner London schools. However, I did get a kind of 'class from hell', Year 9, Third Year girls, bursting with 'full-on' adolescent emotions. I adopted a 'Geoffrey Boycott' defense. That very dour Yorkshire cricketer who was famous for his defensive play. It was tiring though. Yes, a pint and a half of the Bull's real ale would do nicely. This is just below the limit for drunk driving. My 'binge drinking' days had long gone. That English 'tradition' of drinking as much as possible as quickly as possible. It would be just enough to calm me down. Exercise would be better of course. Then a hot bath when I came home and get a meal ready for Isabella my wife.

I went through the back door of the Bull. Beryl the landlady was behind the bar. Sid was downstairs changing over a beer barrel. Lina was there too, serving drinks. The cats were happily sitting under a radiator.

Percy and Humphrey were also there. Their good wives, respectively Agatha, and Margaret, were at some 'Women's Institute' do. They kept alive their marriages by keeping a degree of discreet distance. Both these gentlemen had married children who were doing very well and were both now grandfathers. They spoilt their grandchildren rotten. They both wore casual but smart clothes. This could include a good pair of dark trousers, sometimes a blazer or jacket. More often than not they loved a full woolen pullover plus sensible shoes. Both were non-smokers, but they enjoyed the fine real ales that the Bull offered.

"Ah young Paul, come and join us", Percy called out. Beryl had already poured out a pint. I paid for this and sat down on one of those full leather-bound chairs, that was a feature of the Lounge Bar. The furniture in the Lounge was better than you would find in most homes. All bound in a deep red leather. All the chairs and sofas were made from hardwood. There was oak paneling around the walls and on the floor. Beryl kept her staff busily polishing all this up when the pub was closed.

"So, how were the young ladies?" Percy asked. "The usual," I replied, with a slight laugh. "They had a drawing exercise to do. Of course, everything ended up being coloured in pink. I didn't have the energy to argue with them. They all seemed happy."

"Ah, a fine Geoffrey Boycott defense!" Percy added.

"Exactly, Percy, I know all their tricks. Been in this teaching game long enough."

"So no surprise spin bowling, or a googly?!", came Humphrey's reply.

"Nothing. It is the Autumn term, it's wet. I want to go home and they want to go home. Well, I want to come here first."

I made a slight chuckle with this.

The Lounge Bar had only us present at this time. The pub would fill up quickly from 6 onwards. A popular DJ was booked for the Entertainment Bar. The Public Bar in the middle was being made ready. The pub would be 'heaving' by 9 pm. I would be long gone by then.

Beryl got her girls busy by polishing up and cleaning all the paneling and tables etc. Lina, nearby, was working hard polishing a table. She had to bend right over to do this. This had not escaped the notice of Humphrey and Percy.

"Ah, this is the real reason you like coming along now gentlemen?"

I asked both the two retired Majors. "A chance to inspect the new barmaids?"

Lina had a tight pair of jeans on. Both of the 'senior' gentlemen seemed to be admiring her rump, in a typically discreet upper-class English manner.

"There are certainly some very fine new fillies now at the Bull."

"Maybe it is better that we stayed in the EU?", commented Percy.

They both knew that their two good wives were very keen members of a local gym. One of the instructors was a very fine, 'well buff and well fit', hunky South African, as the schoolgirls would say with an amazing 'six-pack'. The ladies seemed to do nothing but spend all day talking about him. So, all in all, everything balanced out

very nicely.