B- The room Part two.

At this stage I don't want you to forget why we were here, we
certainly couldn't. The cold was now quite noticable. Nobody was making
a move to open the door, and after what seemed like an eternity Walter
stepped forward, I quickly followed and together we pushed the door. It
opened with just the slightest groan, and the rush of cold air coming
out was unbelievable, It was obvious nobody was going any further, I
certainly wasn't.

After a few minutes somebody suggested my dog, I knew nothing could
frighten Elgar so I went out to bring him in. It was as we were walking
towards the open door that I realised all was not well with the dog, he
was putting his brakes on, and as we got nearer his hackles rose, and
his teeth bared. There was no way Elgar was going in that room, or so
we thought!

I cannot remember who was the first to notice, maybe we all did
together but suddenly it grew warmer! Then an amazing thing happened
the dog suddenly relaxed and ran into the room with his tail wagging.
This was now starting to get out of hand but I wasn't about to leave
him alone in the room, Walter had read my thoughts and quickly brought
an extension lamp. I entered the room closely followed by the
vicar.

Let me tell you straight away if you are expecting a horror story there
was nothing in the room to be afraid of. It was about eight foot by
eight foot, absolutely bare, and totally clean. The walls were
obviously the original stonework, the temperature was now normal, and
the dog was quite happy sniffing around. Elgar's previous reaction now
totally forgotten.

The men from the local joiners called the next day to collect their oak
trellis. Walter in his wisdom, and without any consultation, decided to
have the doorway plastered up again. This was done very quickly, and
Walter stacked some old church artefacts in front of the area. And so
it was that things returned to normal, so normal in fact, that Walter
got back to his monosyllable greetings to me-when he did speak at
all.

If you are still with me, we have now to move forward about two years
from our first venture into The Room. The congregation had changed very
little, and the services were much the same. Walter was looking older
and I am sure he was feeling it. I didn't feel any different, but Elgar
had slowed down a great deal.

What happened now was practically the same as two years earlier. I was
slipping out of church after the morning service when I heard the vicar
calling me, could he have a quick word when the others had gone. Walter
was again clearly agitated and came straight to the point. The cold
spot was back again.

Nobody knew of course, but Walter had been frequently checking the
temperature outside the plastered doorway. I went with the vicar to the
stacked artefacts. There was absolutely no doubt about it, after a
second or two you could definitely feel the cold. If anyone else had
noticed they certainly had not mentioned it. I asked Walter what he
wanted me to do. I didn't want to believe what I heard, but he was
clearly intent this time in finding out the cause of what was without
doubt a very strange mystery.

And so once again, Walter and I found ourselves on Monday morning
outside the plastered up doorway with our hammers and chisels. This
time we were on our own----no dog, and no committee members, when we
started once again to remove the plaster.

It was much easier this time, and we were soon down to the old wooden
door. We both stood looking at it without speaking, and then Walter
stepped forward and pushed at the door. The door slowly opened with
just a slight creak, and once more the gust of icy air hit us. We both
stood our ground in anticipation, and sure enough after a couple of
minutes the temperature began to rise again. We already had the
extension light rigged up and went into the room together.

Nothing was different. Walter turned to me and in obvious expectation
of the correct answer, asked me what we should do. I have to tell you
at this point that I had spent some years in the Special Branch. Walter
had somehow got to know of this, and thought quite wrongly that my
ability of investigation could be useful, hence him calling me in the
first place.

Of course I couldn't come up with any sensible course of action, but
did not want to destroy his obvious faith in me. I said that perhaps we
should get the old door out, and replace it with a smaller modern door
that did not have a lock, just a catch to keep it closed. Maybe we
should consider having the room plastered and painted with some pastel
shade. We could have a carpet put down, and have a small table put in
with a crucifix on it. Then finally the room should be blessed. I hoped
that what I had said to the vicar didn't sound too silly, and was
relieved when he told me his thoughts were very similar to mine.

Walter did not waste any time, and within three weeks the room was
finished, and I have to say, the local decorators had done a super job.
A chair had now been added, and on my first visit, when I sat down and
looked around, my impression was one of warmth and peace, nothing cold
or intimidating in any way.

Things returned to normal again, well not quite! The vicar and I became
good friends. We started to have meals together, we walked together and
talked together, and I found him to be a kind, caring, and very
generous old lad. He had had a very interesting life, and was quite
comfortable telling me about it. I have to tell you that I also spoke
to him about things, that I had not spoken to anyone else about. He and
Elgar also became close friends and could often be seen strolling
together. My only regret was that my friendship with Walter had come so
late. Perhaps there is a moral here.

Soon after our second entry of the room Elgar became quite ill, he was
old now, and looking at me in that way that only a dog lover can
recognise. I don't know why, but I decided to take him to the room. The
church was usually a hive of activity, but on this day it was empty. I
had to carry my old pal the last few yards; he just couldn't make it on
his own. I sat down on the chair and laid him gently on the floor. I
was sitting there looking round thinking about what might have happened
in this room, when I realised Elgar was on his feet, his tail was
wagging his eyes were shining, he came up to me and licked my
hand---then laid down in front of me, and died.

I was more certain at that time that if there was anything after death,
my old pal was now experiencing it, and with a friend that would love
and care for him. Of course there were tears, but I left that room
knowing my beloved Elgar had been happy at his passing.

Continued----