Billy’s note: Dulwich Village. The P4 bus runs from Brixton to Lewisham through Dulwich Village. An enormous green space – not regularly seen in London. Traveling by train or car it suddenly appears out of the urban sprawl before being equally rapidly consumed by the bricks & concrete. An urban oasis of public schools, playing fields, woods & giant houses with full size trampolines and works of modern art in the garden. Does anybody in who lives in Dulwich use a bus?
The Night bus
Emma is familiar with taking the P4 bus as far as Fox & Hounds Tavern in Dulwich Village for various friends’ group meetings. She knows the P4 is usually really busy & when it appears there is quite a rush to get a seat. The aspiring travelers line up against the window of Mackey-D’s restaurant to get out of the main pedestrian current, jostling one another for the best position like runners at the start of a race. This crowding is amplified by the larger number of people also using this stand to get buses into town. This makes it difficult to estimate how many people are planning to get on your bus and builds up the excitement of the journey. Finally, their bus bled into view, distinguishable by being one of the few single-deck buses on the London roads.
It’s internal lights that were usual obstructed by the weight of standing passengers blazed out and Emma began scrummaging with people on the pavement. In the excitement she called over her should to Dave. “What I want to know is where on earth is Lewisham & who would want to go there?” She stumbled forward and found herself saying this at the bus driver, who averted his gaze and examined his instrument panel before replying, “Thing about this town is, people simply go from home to work and back again. . .” The bus pulled out at great speed. “People simply go from home to work and back again. . .”
Emma and Dave were the only people who had got on and now they noticed how the bus was almost empty bus. Cautiously they inched towards one of the empty seats.
“Nobody got on! That’s never happened before”.
“Supergood!” said Dave Grinned clearly stoned. The bus speed on, not stopping at any of the scheduled stops.
“Perhaps it’s a Taxi sent to collect us?” wondered Emma hopefully.
The man sat in front of them with large headphones on his ears sang with his music, “We are all on the way to meet our maker, the bus is taking us home.” Slowly, he turned to face them. He also had massive headphones where is eyes should which pulsed to his song. They could now hear the same music came from other passengers including the driver. All the occupants sang “We are all on the way to meet our maker, the bus is taking us home.”
“That’s it!” Dave struggled to his feet and using the available handrails swung his way towards the driver. The bus had deviated from its route, a large metal gate opened for it & it sped on towards an unlit imposing building.
“What is going on? Is this the P4? Where are we going? Who are these people?” he screamed approaching the driver. His journey was made more difficult as the bus bounced over step speed bumps. Also, he could see no headlights illuminating the buses path.
The bus came to an abrupt halt. Dave fell forward finding himself pressed up against the glass of the driver’s unlit cabin. The haunted driver turned to face Dave, “This is your stop, mate”.
The bus doors opened and Dave stumbled out and Emma followed him. They stood in a dark quadrangle. A clock tower loomed over them. An incongruous neon sign read “The Dulwich Undead Adventurers Club – This way” with a big arrow pointing down a metal staircase. The questionable P4 swung around in the quad and took off, it’s eerie song trailing off into the distant hum of traffic on the south circular.
Dave & Emma faced the choice, an opportunity, do as the sign says, or make a break for it.
“Face it!” she said. “Let’s go down & get on with it. It’s not going away, it’s going to catch up with you”.
“Me? You think this is my fault?”
“Yeah. Of course it is. I think YOU should confront YOUR demons”
“Forget that! How much weirdness do you want in a day? You go in there and get killed. I’m going back to the road.”
He started walking back along the long dark road that led back to the main road. It was the pitch black. He could just about make out the dark towers of school buildings on the right hand side and an oily expanse of what must be the playing field on the left. He felt like what ever had wanted him here could leap out at any moment, eviscerate them on the spot or chase them down on the fields & nobody who hear or help them.
“What that?”
Some thing white flashed away to their left on the grass.
Dave continued explaining is unwilling to follow the instructions on the sign, “Today? It could be anything. Like I say, I’m not waiting around to find out!”
Jesus there it is again.
There was a flapping sound, like the wings of an enormous bird & the white spectre turned and was now coming towards them with great speed.
They started running but the spectre was moving to cut of their escape.
“Christ!” It’s a boat” There was anxiety in Dave’s voice, panting, he surrendered the race.
“Ahoy! You made it then?” came a cry from the boat as it glided over the field, slowed and stopped in front of them, sails flapping. The boat didn’t seem to have been modified for the use on land, Dave could see no stabilizers or wheels. A figure wrapped in tarpaulin stood on the bow. A PG Wodehouse type of character, dressed a polar explorer, another in the hull of the craft. “Sorry old boy! Didn’t men to startle you. Just taking the old James Caird out for a bit of an excursion on the field.
“Lovely night for it! We are the The Dulwich . . ”
“Undead Adventurers Club?” Dave finished the sentence.
“Yes! How the Devil did you know that?”
“It written on a great big sign in the playground”
“Ah, you can see it can you that’s good. A lot of people can’t. Only those who are interested or . . .er, susceptible can see it. It’s been there for about a good 100 years and nobody at the school has ever spotted it or us. Too small a gene pool I guess”
“Yeah I can see it but I don’t want to see it. I’m off!”
“Now hang on young man, don’t be hasty. We’ve got you over here because we’ve heard you’d crossed swords with a couple of rather undesirable sorts of fellows and the thing is, this Skier thing has unleashed all sorts of copycat paranormal lawlessness. Too be honest, that’s why we’re in this boat. . . .”
“Right. Skier? Well I guess that’s all good! Be seeing ya!” Dave’s parting shot cut across the Explorer’s explanation.
They were again walking towards the light of the South Circular.
“I’m never traveling by bus again”.
Dave answered, “Oh? Aren’t you still interested in where Lewisham is why people would want to go there?”
