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George Spenceley recalls his years as a long distance lorry driver, the friends he made and the incidents that happened along the way.
Although I was just twenty-two years of age I was surprised at the number of older drivers who were afraid of the dark, especially frightened of the white lady that supposedly wandered the rooms and passageways of the Marlbury Hostel, an ICI hostel used by the drivers to rest before a return long haul journey.
One particular evening I'd arrived late afternoon and was due to leave again at one-thirty in the morning. I hadn't bothered to pull the wooden shutters across the windows but was sleeping quite contentedly when the door to my room slowly opened, it was the afternoon shift driver arriving at about ten pm.
Seeing me half awake and looking in his direction he said, 'How do George, I'm making a cup of tea would you like one?' 'No thanks Stan I'm due out at one thirty' I said and dosed off again.
Suddenly he started shouting. 'Go away, go away'. I looked across the darkened room and could see that he was in bed, 'Are you alright Stan?' I whispered, no answer, he started shouting again. 'Go away, he's coming through the window'.
Quietly I said, 'Stan there's nobody there you must be dreaming, go to sleep, I have to get up shortly'. 'George there is someone there and he's coming through the window look for yourself'. I got out of bed reluctantly and walked across to his bed.
I crouched down by his head and looked across the darkened courtyard to above the entrance where I could see a clock face, it's golden numbers were glinting in the moonlight and as the moon passed through the clouds the figures shone brightly.
Annoyed at being disturbed I said, 'Look Stan it's just the clock in the courtyard, go to sleep'. He grunted, 'I was sure someone was trying to get in, will you pull the shutters across before you go back to bed George?'
Now it's not very pleasant getting your sleep disturbed by a grown man imagining someone's trying to get in through the window especially when your room's on the first floor.
I decided that the next time we met I'd really put the fear in to him for disturbing my sleep that night.
One month later we happened to be on the same running schedule, I thought 'Gotcha!' I explained to the cook in the Marlbury Hostel what I was going to do and he wanted to help me.
He took a piece of paper from a drawer, drew and cut out a very ugly face then with a button, a small piece of cotton and some cellotape I was ready. I tied the cotton to the button and stuck it on the outside of the bedroom window along with the paper cut out.
I pulled the wooden shutters across the window to shut out the sun and climbed into bed and went to sleep. Stan arrived at ten thirty and offered me the usual cup of tea, which I refused.
He kept looking across to the window and after a while he said, 'Listen George, can you here something at the window?' 'No,' I replied 'get into bed and get some sleep'. There was a very slight breeze, which caused the button to gently touch the window.
'There's that noise again I'm sure there's someone there,' said Stan. Mischievously I said, 'Open the shutters and check for yourself'. Getting
up he went off to the bathroom and I began to feel guilty at setting up such
a prank.
I clambered out of bed, run across the room, opened the shutter and grabbed the paper cut-out but had no time to retrieve the button before he returned.
Seeing me getting back into bed he asked if I'd looked out of the window. 'There's no one there' I said, 'put the light out before you get into bed, goodnight Stan'.
At one thirty the chauffeur arrived to take me back to the plant. I was ready and on the way down to the courtyard I said to him, 'I bet you two shillings that the bedroom light will be back on before we get to the car' and sure enough it was.
I told him what I'd done and that I felt guilty about it, he just laughed and said, 'You'll be surprised at the number of Wilton drivers who are afraid of the white lady of Northwich'.
On my way back I stopped one of our vehicles that was heading for the plant at Northwich for I still felt concerned about Stan and the button tapping on the window. I asked the other driver when he arrived at the hostel if he'd remove the button from the window before going to bed.
He agreed to remove it but took a dim view of what I'd done and with verbal abuse left me in no doubt about my insensitivity and the effect that my silly prank could have had on Stan.
George Spenceley, 2002
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