Ghost Towns Live Experience Part Two

I didn’t really finish off day one. Perhaps that was because once the show started, the time just whizzed by. Large chunks of it were very little different from watching on TV – the huge screen showed us what was going out on air, we watched . . . The Liz did her links or announced the competition . . . The Advertising breaks came as both moments of boredom (so what else is new?) and great relief – the audience could only nip to the toilets in those moments. Ben, the Floor Manager would keep a running check on that. ‘We’re in a break, Ladies and Gents. . .four minutes . . .three minutes . . .’ If you did venture to the loo, then you had to tread warily in the half darkness, watching for cables, flagstones, uneven flooring.

Some people in the audience were saying they felt ‘cold spots’ or their hands were burning . . . Many people seemed to want to be affected by the atmosphere as well as the investigators out in Halifax. One woman sitting next to me kept saying that her right leg was getting cold – hardly surprising as she was sitting in front of a badly fitting, old door where there was a gap of at least an inch and a half between it and the door. But one set of chairs, in a line from the back to the front of the ‘stalls’ consistently produced reports of a cold breeze where no breeze should be – more of that later!

Live TV isn’t neat and tidy. The second investigation of the night – in the Lost Workers’ Room in Dean Clough Mills runs way past the midnight cut off point and on the screen, the camera recordings are still running as the audience files out into the darkness of the night. The BM and I need to collect coats, etc from behind the scenes and we spend some time chatting to lovely Liz Bonnin and other experts, members of the crew. Liz turns out to be a romance reading fan so I promise her some of my books the next day. With the investigation finally wound down, Derek Acorah comes past, shakes both the BM’s and my hands, says ‘I hope you enjoyed that.’ He looks tired, and distinctly unlike the rather dramatic figure he appears on screen . His face is more finely drawn, his handshake firm. I never once saw any ‘big star’ behaviour in all of the three nights.

Finally the BM and I make our way to the car. Five minutes down the road, our small hotel – right next to the Piece Hall – is already locked for the night. But the night porter lets us in and when we realise that we haven’t eaten since 2 that afternoon (it’s now almost 1am) he organises pizza for us. We wolf that down, with a bottle of wine, talking and talking over the events of the night.

Day two is a day for some nostalgia and revisiting familiar places for me – walking round Halifax, recalling how as a child, a teenager, I used to think that ‘going into town’ from my home in one of the outlying villages was a major event, is fascinating. Here is where my mother bought my school uniform (horrible, itchy gymslips and striped cotton summer dresses). Here in Fred Wade’s bookshop, where they now display my husband’s Halifax book and the second one he wrote about Bradford, is where a family friend bought me the wonderful present of a brand-new, hardback ‘Famous Five’ book by Enid Blyton. In the Piece Hall while the BM hunts through shelf after shelf of second-hand books, I find a treasure – a book I adored in my childhood and I add that to his pile.

Saturday night is when my son and his girlfriend are joining us as guests on the show so we meet them at four, and, learning from last night’s experience, grab sandwiches before the show. The Offspring and Helen have to be at the theatre early to collect their tickets and this time the queues are even longer – dozens of people are prepared to try for ‘standby’ tickets in the hope that maybe there will be a seat going if someone doesn’t turn up. They’re out of luck. Everyone who has tickets claims them – later, I’m stunned to realise just how far some people have travelled for this. I talked to one woman and her husband who travelled from Catterick, then later I learn that one couple travelled for seven and a half hours to get there – and will travel the same back . . . And they aren’t even guaranteed a sight of the star other than on the screen.

In the green room there’s the gathering of experts again – Richard, Paul and the BM from last night and Craig Bradley, local writer who grew up in Illingworth where one of the investigations is being held. There too are Stephen and Teresa, the couple who were the subject of the previous night’s ‘Doorstep Divination.’ For those who have never seen the show – this is when Derek Acorah goes out into the streets of the town and does a live instant ‘reading for members of the public. Anyone who is interested in having this happen, puts a poster up in their window and he chooses the house he feels drawn to. Last night it was Stephen and Teresa’s house. They look as if they are still slightly in shock at being chosen as well as at the accuracy of some of the tings he said. Tonight they are here to talk to Liz about their experiences.

Mark the producer comes in with information about the plans for the night – Heath’s Bar in the centre of town – part of the Dean Clough Complex – the FMill – and a place just known as ‘Tracey’s Cottage’ – a private home on the edge of the town where the family has been troubled by apparitions and noises. He also has possible questions that all the experts will be asked so they can prepare. But in the end, once the show gets underway, much of the preparation goes to waste, the investigations take their own turns, unplanned and unchoreographed, and the questions they’re expecting never appear. Outside in the Theatre, the warm-up goes on – cheers, whoops, applause – soon it’s 8.30 and we are lead out to the seats in the front row again. And this time the BM is smiling, looking forward to the night rather than dreading it. The theme music starts up again – Liz says our cue ‘300 paranormal fans’ – we applaud . . . And the show starts all over again.
Within minutes, Richard Jones and the BM are deep in discussion about the site of the first investigation, on screen, Derek, Nicola and Angus are ‘bringing down the lights’ in Heath’s Bar and starting to explore the place in complete darkness and Ghost Towns Live is on air.

Once again, the night flashes by. There is one sticky moment when the 'Doorstep Divination' doesn't work - in spite of the fact that there is a poster in the window, and a light on in the house, no one answers the door. And as this was the house that Derek felt drawn to, there isn't a 'substitute' waiting in the wings. So that leaves Liz and the production team scrambling to fill in the empty minutes - more time with the experts - with Teresa and Stephen - with Ken who, with his wife Tracey, lives in the cottage they are investigating soon. That investigation is the last of the night and it is still going on when the show comes to an end. All the team are still out, and we later learn that they stayed out for quite a while.

So we collect coats, bags full of reference books . . . Meeting Liz again I give her copies of The Spaniard's Inconvenient Bride and The Antonakos Marriage and receive an enthusiastic hug of thanks. 'I am so going to read those on the train home!' she says.

Then we find The Offspring and Helen, take some photos of the set, head out into the freezing night air. Tonight, being Saturday, the hotel bar is still open and we manage more sandwiches and a few glasses of wine before we are 'wound down' enough to head for our rooms.

Out in the night, in Illingworth, Derek Acorah, the team and Tracey and her son Aaron are still dealing with their invisible visitors - we will learn more about that the next day . . .