C- The Room. Part three

With the vicar's permission, and blessing, my trusted friend was
buried in a remote quiet spot, in a corner of the churchyard. I managed
to scrounge a small piece of the original oak trellis from the joiners,
And on it I had inscribed---- "Elgar" "He has a friend in this
church".

Nobody was really aware of how it started, I know a few people had
heard of my experience, but it was still surprising, it did start very
slowly, almost imperceptibly. People were beginning to use the room. It
soon became frequently used, and the churchwarden had to fit a
vacant/engaged sign to the door to ensure the occupant was not
disturbed. Some days people were limited to fifteen minutes each
because of the demand, indeed there were not many days when the room
was not fully used.

The vicar started checking in the nicest way, to find why people were
coming to our room. It seems they were visiting in bereavement, in
sickness, for intercessions, for private reasons not divulged, and with
pets, none of which were turned away. Nothing unpleasant was ever
reported about the room, and nobody ever noticed any drop in
temperature. Nobody was claiming anything miraculous about the room
either; Although most described a feeling of peace and comfort. It all
seemed to have ended well.

Two things now happened at the same time, I found out I had to move
with my work, and Walter was becoming quite ill. On my last day in the
village he asked me to go to see him in private. We had all had a
little get together earlier in the week, and I was glad of this
opportunity to see him alone. He was now only a shadow of the man I
first knew, and I realised straight away that something was bothering
him. It seemed to me that he was perfectly rational, and although
upset, he spoke clearly and precisely.

I had to promise that I would not divulge what he was about to tell me,
at least until after his death. I duly promised. You need to know now,
that the vicar was the only person who had the keys to the church. He
would not let anyone else have them. He always opened up on time, and
always locked up, no matter what time any function may have ended. His
last job before locking up was always to check the room, firstly to
make sure nobody was still there, and secondly to make sure the door
was closed and the sign on the door said vacant.

I had never seen my friend emotional before but as he started to talk
tears started to form in his eyes and slowly trickle down his cheeks, I
put my arm on his shoulder to comfort him until he regained his
composure.

Apparently, and I know how weird this sounds when he opened the church
every morning he always found that the sign on the room door was turned
round to read "engaged". He had not dared mention it to anybody and I
can understand why.
Obviously I could not offer any logical explanation, only to reassure
him that the room did have some unexplained qualities and some things
we just have to accept. At this point his eyes filled again, and he
told me that every Sunday morning when he opened the church, the door
to the room was ajar and there was a kneeler in the church in front of
the Altar.

Shaking his head, he told me that this had been happening since the
room was opened up and put into use, and he had felt able to confide in
anybody.
He was clearly relieved to have unburdened himself, and with the way I
had accepted it. We sat talking together until the early hours; he
clearly didn't want me to go.

Two weeks after I left, I heard that Walter had died suddenly in
hospital. Because of pressure of work I was unable, sadly, to return
for his funeral. I did intend to go back though to take my new dog
Wagner to see my two old friends in the churchyard, although I have to
tell you at that time I had no intentions of going in the room
again.

Although I had been extremely busy since leaving the village, there
were not many times when my thoughts didn't return to the strange
events at St. Oswalds. I cannot divulge the exact nature of my leaving,
but I can tell you it was involved with a helicopter crash in Scotland.
The investigation was now drawing to a close, and I was seriously
thinking of taking semi-retirement. Understandably, I did not expect to
be writing any more on this subject-however things change.

Continued----