Early Morning Visitor
Clare, Liverpool, UK
February 2002
This tale didn't actually happen to me, but to my grandmother when she was my age. It's been told to us grand kids since we were young enough to be interested and we never tire of hearing it. My grandma is a religious woman and NEVER lies...and I mean NEVER.
During the 2nd World War, my grandma worked in a ammunitions factory. Her younger brothers and sisters had been shipped out of Liverpool, either to go to the country or to actually fight in the war. She lived at home with her mum and dad and slightly younger sister, Nora, who also worked with her.
One day, there was a fire in their kitchen and until the smoke cleared, they went to live over the road in a neighbours house, and there was only 2 of them there, as their son was off fighting.
As my grandma had to be at Liverpool docks very early in the morning, she had to rise even earlier and get the train. This usually took maybe half an hour or so. As she was known for sleeping late and missing her train her dad used to wake up, make her a cup of tea and take it up to her and wake her up.
Well, on one particular morning, she woke before her alarm and lay listening to the still morning, enjoying the peaceful sounds of chirping birds. Just as she was about to get up and make her own cup of tea, she heard footsteps on the wooden stairs. Realising that her hot tea was on its way up, and her dad was bringing it, she sat up and waited. As the steps came nearer she wondered why her father was wearing shoes or boots as the footsteps were heavier than usual (he usually wore his slippers). As the steps stopped outside of her door and his shadow appeared under the crack of the door, she called out "Dad?". Nothing. The door didn't open, and the shadow remained. Thinking maybe he couldn't open the door as his hands were full, she threw back the covers, looked down to put on her slippers and walked to the door. She threw it open and there was nothing. Empty, quiet hallway, all the other doors to the bedrooms closed.
Confused she went to her parents bedroom and peeped in. Her parents were sleeping soundly! Really spooked now she peeped into her sisters and the neighbours rooms. All sleeping!
Climbing in bed with her sister, she woke her up and told her what happened...they stayed there until their dad woke up. Now, the freaky thing is that 2 days later, a telegram arrived informing the neighbours that their son had been killed in action. He had died 2 days before. And my grandma's room was HIS room...
My grandma insists he was visiting one last time to say goodbye to his folks, and his home.