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That summer the Global Warming was a real threat and everybody was talking about the one degree rise in temperature all over the world. Our new home seemed to be extremely affected by the Warming. There was a drought in our part of the country and Carol, she`s my wife, was saving water.
`It hasn`t rained for ages and everything is so dry, we must save water.`
`How?` Chris asked immediately. Being the eldest he asked questions for his brother and sister, the twins.
`We must put all our used water into containers for using again.`
`Used water?`
`The water we usually throw down the drain and just disappears can be used for the toilets…`
`Yuk!` The twins were horror-struck.
`When you wash in the mornings you will take from the tap only as much water as is needed for…`
`throwing down the toilets. O.K. but how do we get it out?`
`Dip it out of the sink with this plastic jug.`
`How can we save the water when we take a shower?` I asked. `I must have my shower in the morning, it wakes me up, gets the blood pumping and all that.`
`No showering.` Carol was adamant and when she`s like that we all know she means business.
I had just moved into this old cottage with my family and had not had time to settle in, so we must all do our best. The garden was dry and hard as iron and the flowers looked as though they longed for a drink but Carol said no water for the flowers either.

Then things happened that you must know about so that you can agree or disagree with me. You can decide for yourself.

I was all alone in the house because my wife and the three kids had gone to visit Carol`s mother. They all loved going to the farm where grandma lived with Carol`s brother and his wife who had taken over the management.
`I shouldn`t think they have to save water like we do, they`ve got the river.` Christopher whispered to me, pleased to be released from chucking second-use water down the lavatory.

I stayed home to do some redecorating. It seemed a good idea to do this while they were gone and I could get a lot done in a week. I asked my boss to allow me the same week off and he agreed. So I went down to the D.I.Y. store and bought paint and brushes and everything needed. Carol had helped me stack furniture in the centre of the rooms so I could have a clean sweep.
`I don`t expect you to finish everything in the time,` she told me, `so make sure the bedrooms are done first. `You and I can sleep downstairs if necessary.`
`Aye aye, Sir,` I replied with a grin and I kissed her.
`Goodbye, Daddy.` My Angela, my little girl hugged me.
`Can`t I stay with you Daddie? Please? I want to help you.`
`No, darling. Kind of you but I can manage. You go and have a lovely time on the farm.`
And so I was all alone in the house and, as instructed, I started on the walls of the kids` bedrooms. I sloshed emulsion paint on the walls, forgetting to spread an old sheet on the floor and so made a fine mess. The result was that I had to clean it all up with precious water. I did not throw this down the toilet but chucked it out on to the bottom of the garden where there was plenty of brambles so the paint and stuff didn`t matter.
I was so tired that I fell into my downstairs bed without eating or washing or cleaning my teeth. I dropped off to sleep immediately but awoke and It was pitch dark and cold. I was about to pull the duvet around me when it seemed to move of its own accord. Going on and on it was, a kind of tweaking and twisting. I sat up. I was shivering and hungry and thirsty. I got up and put on the light with the idea of going to the kitchen. But I stopped. On the floor in front of me was a line of muddy footsteps, bare feet, coming from the garden door to my bedside.
`Is it raining at last?` I said aloud. Then I thought again. I must have been sleep-walking. `Even if it is raining at last, I haven`t been out in it.` I was still talking to myself. `But these feet are a lot smaller than mine.`
I realised that I was probably not alone. I searched the house but nobody was hiding in any cupboard. Nevertheless,somebody had come into the house and left wet marks on the floor. But I had locked the garden door so who could come in that way? I opened the door and looked out into the garden but all was black as ink.. I put out my hand. It wasn`t raining but there in the electric light I saw bare-foot muddy steps coming towards me..
I went to the kitchen and swilled my face with water and drank some cold water. It was then that I realised that mud needed water. Why were the footsteps muddy? Whose feet made those prints?
I went back to bed and in the morning there was no sign of the trail of steps. `Just a stupid dream.` I told my image in the bathroom mirror.
I saw that my beard was growing but I couldn`t be bothered to shave and a cold shower didn`t attract me. So I just set to work doing the nescessary painting and decorating.

The next night when I fell into bed again I recalled the dream of the night before but one often did that. Therefore I dismissed it and slept heavily and awoke with a very dry mouth. My arms and legs felt stiff and cold; the duvet was hanging almost right off the bed. I pulled it back but it was wrenched away from me.
Then I put on the light and I saw them; the footprints again. The mud was thick but this time the shape of the foot was more like a bird`s, sort of skeletal, no shoe ever made a mark like that. I sat up and looked towards the garden door and made my way there to open it. I stared at each one as unlocked it and there they were again, a line of muddy marksIn the light of a full moon. The wet marks approached the door outside.
Yet it had not rained.
`Carol will be pleased that I`m saving so much water.` I said out aloud in a childish way.

`Yoohoo! I`m home!` That was Carol`s voice. I couldn`t possibly mistake my wife`s voice.
`Carol? Is that you?`
It was the middle of the afternoon the next day. I heard her running upstairs.
`My goodness you look a wreck.` That was the greeting I received and I knew she was right. `What have you been doing? Or rather what haven`t you been doing?`
`Where are the kids?` I looked beyond her and down the stairway at the wide-open front door.
`I left them behind. Darling, I wondered how you were getting on. I can see you need me. How are you getting on with the painting and things? Have you been feeling poorly?`
I took her into my arms and kissed her, even though I had a prickly beard..
`Ugh! You stink.` She pulled away from me and that was all the result I got for my loving greeting.
`In answer to all your questions,` I looked directly at her,` I have done most of the painting and I have not been feeling poorly.`
`It still hasn`t rained here yet?`
`Has it rained anywhere else?`
`Not really. A shower here and there but on the farm they have their lovely spring water and the river nearby. The kids are having a whale of a time but I was missing you, Darling. I`ve come to help you clear up the house.`
`Now wait a minute,` I protested vehemently, `the house is in good order. I cleaned up as I went along. Come and see.`
She was pleased with the hard work I had accomplished and, what is more, how clean the floors were.
`We can begin getting the furniture back in place. Darling, you`re a proper bobby-dazzler.` That was one of Carol`s top appreciation exclamations.
`I`m going to have a shower now - because of your admiration for me.`
I went into the shower room, ran the water which was cold but I didn`t care.
Afterwards I felt terrific and more so after I had scraped off my beard.
Carol had a lovely meal ready and I ate like the hungry man I was, gobbling the food.
My lovely wife said nothing. Later on we went to bed, snuggling under the duvet.

The rain came after our family was all together again. No more saving water. When we looked out onto the garden it was obvious that we had to tackle that next.
`We must dig and delve and get rid of weeds,` I announced.
`Can we afford some help? It`s a big job.`
`Nonsense, we can do it. We shall dig and delve all together, won`t we`
`Why can`t we have somebody to help us?` This from Christopher the questioner.
`Well perhaps a little bit of help.`
My wife had obviously been thinking about this because she said:
`I met a man in the post office who used to know the people who lived in this cottage when he was a boy,` Carol looked up at the sky. `He said that down at the bottom of our garden, where the brambles are so thick, there is a grave.`
`A grave!` The twins shouted in unison.
`Is it a dog`s grave or a person`s grave?`
`A dog`s grave of course.` Carol threw me a look that meant don`t ask any more about it.
Later, when she and I were in the garden and the children were safely out of earshot, Carol told me the whole story.
`The old man said it was the grave of a young boy who hanged himself. He was about the age of our twins. Because he had taken his own life his parents could not expect his body to be buried in consecrated ground.`
`Poor little fellow! Whatever made him do that to himself?`
`I asked the very same question. The old chap said that it was probably a dare. One of the boys at school may have bet him he wouldn`t set up a gallows and pretend to be hung.`
`And it all went wrong?`
`Apparently so. The mother was so distraught that she managed to persuade her husband to dig a grave at the bottom of this garden.`
`When did this happen?`
`It was about this time of year in nineteen hundred.`
`Summertime in nineteen hundred. Probably a hot summer like this one…`
I stopped speaking.
`What is it? You look as if you`ve seen a ghost,` Carol put her arms around my neck.
`I had a bad dream while you were away. It was about muddy footsteps on the floor beside my bed.`
`A ghost! The ghost of that poor little boy visited you.`
`The only place where I threw out any water was just there, over the brambles at the bottom of the garden.`
`Muddy footsteps. The only place where there was a bit of mud. The boy died a hundred years ago. It must have been something to do with that.`
`The Millennium that`s what caused it,` Carol exclaimed. `It was a ghostly encounter and not a bad dream at all.`

I do not believe in ghosts; they simply do not exist. My mind is made up that what happened was a figment of my imagination and that is all it was. End of story.

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