![]() Just before this chapter, Daniel has taken up the job to write a report on the Old Hall Hotel which is rumoured to be shutting. He has attempted to get in touch with Miranda, the owner, but instead has been communicating with Alex, the night watchman who seems to know everything there is to know about the hotel. He has arranged a meeting and tour with him to learn more. Chapter 2 It looked nothing like the brochure. Daniel had been sent an information pack through the post a couple of weeks ago. It had reminded Daniel of the posh hotels you saw in costume dramas, all black uniforms and tall hats. The writing he thought was rather clumsy and mismatched. Were they selling hotel rooms or permanent homes? The front of the brochure showed a black limo pulling up outside the hotel, its doors shining and inviting, a red carpet leading up to them. A bellboy stood at the door, smiling, his arms open wide as though nothing would make him happier than to welcome the pretentious-looking contents of the car and to carry their bags. ‘The Old Hall Hotel. Why choose anything less than luxury?’ Luxury, thought Daniel, was definitely in the eye of the beholder. The grand doors featured on the front of the brochure had been replaced by bizarre revolving doors which would have looked better placed in an airport or a hospital. They looked old, but not fashionably so. The red carpet was still there but it was damp and faded to a weak pink, dirt sticking sporadically in clumps. The rain poured relentlessly but Daniel suspected it wouldn't have looked much better in the most glorious of summer days. An old lantern hung above the door, unlit. Instead of the bellboy, Daniel could see Alex was waiting for him outside, looking desperately apologetic, which seemed, Daniel noticed, to be Alex’s default expression. ‘Daniel, welcome!’ Alex walked forward and held out a hand, shaking it vigorously. ‘So pleased you could make it.’ ‘Yeah, no problem. Thanks for having me.’ ‘Thank you.’ Alex clasped his hand before letting it go. ‘Come on in out of this miserable rain.’ *** There was an awkward few minutes trying to work out the revolving door [‘Not your fault, Daniel, not your fault, they need oiling. It’s on my to-do list’] Once they had finally tumbled through Daniel took in his surroundings. Alex indicated that he should leave his coat on an old wooden chest, which on closer inspection was actually a large, old church money collection box . ‘For alter flowers...cleared daily.’ ‘So you know nobody will nick it’ Alex winked. ‘God is watching.’ Daniel folded the coat around the box and attempted to clean his shoes on the scuffed floor. He walked forward but looked hesitantly back at Alex. He was at the start of a long, opposing corridor. He wondered at first if there had been some kind of power cut. It looked bizarrely and uninvitingly dark and dingy. Why, he wondered, did they at least not have a few well placed lamps if hall lights were too much of an ask? The only slithers of light came from the long windows coming from the two rooms either side of Daniel at the entrance. Two joker-like gargoyle faces stared down at him at the entrance to each. The doors and windows looking into the rooms were clear glass so that Daniel could see into both. It reminded him of the offices at work, his boss always having the ability to peer in to check up on them. Both the rooms looked like near carbon copies of each other, bar a piano in the far corner of the right room, which looked like it had seen better days. Daniel’s mind went fleetingly to a busy room, cocktail parties, a Cole Porter-type playing songs on he piano… Both rooms had green wallpaper which reminded Daniel strongly of how his Great Grandma had decorated her living room. A fireplace was in both, ashes lying old and untouched. There were deep window seats looking onto the street where people hurried past without so much as a glance. ‘Lots of ghosts in there’ Alex interrupted his thoughts. ’I call them the Nothing Rooms; they used to be very popular. These days, you might see someone with a coffee, if you’re lucky.’ ‘Does anyone play the piano?’ ‘Not anymore. At least I don’t think so. Although I hear it sometimes. The same three notes at ridiculous times. Couldn’t possibly be anyone in the hotel that I know of. Odd.’ Alex stared ahead, frowning slightly. If it was an act, it was a good one, Daniel thought. Perhaps a tease for new tourists and guests? It didn’t seem Alex’s style but nor did believing that ghosts were plonking on the piano at all hours. On the corridor walls were what his mum would call ‘knick knacks’. Old pennies found during a restoration of the hotel, old keys from abandoned doors and a peculiar painting of a bear on its four legs with a lead and collar. Underneath someone had written, ‘Exit, pursued by…’ ‘My favourite stage direction of all time’. Alex looked at the picture fondly. ‘Did you write that?’ Daniel pointed at the inscription. ‘Vandalise the hotel? Of course not. Nor did I write, ‘You don’t have to be mad to work here, but it helps’ in the kitchen. Right, let’s tell the boss you’re here, shall we?’ *** The reception- unusually- was down at the far end of the corridor. There was a frustrated, frazzled looking woman typing furiously into a large, clunky-looking outdated computer.. Her long, ginger hair kept falling into her eyes and Daniel wondered why she didn’t just tie it up. A portrait of the hotel hung behind her. Ivory hung from the windows and the St George flag flew from the roof. Like the brochure it had an oldness and sadness to it- like the front of an order of service at a funeral. ‘Alex, Daisy has had another fight with Lily and I think maybe...oh.’ She spotted Daniel and reluctantly stood up from behind the screen. ‘Sorry, I lost track of time...Dale was it? The article thing?’ ‘Daniel- yes’ he held out a hand, ‘Nice to meet you.’ ‘Likewise. Sorry I can’t stay but Alex knows the hotel and its secrets better than me anyway.’ ‘Not to worry. Thank you for letting me explore.’ ‘My pleasure. Listen, I’ll talk to you later, Alex. Do you mind keeping an eye on the desk? We’re not expecting anyone but you never know, miracles do happen. Maybe the cast of Barnum will all want rooms, orchestra and all.’ She walked out without another word, leaving the door swinging. ‘So that was the Boss.’ ‘Eeek.’ Alex smiled. ‘A lot on her shoulders. Shall we begin? Anywhere in particular you want to start?’ Daniel grasped for his notebook. ‘Can I meet anyone today?’ Alex paused. ‘Obviously, you might. They live here and it’s not like they’re under lock and key... but I wouldn’t encourage it at the moment.’ ‘It would be great to get some kind of conversation with them…’ ‘I agree.’ Alex surveyed him carefully. ‘But not yet.’ Daniel felt very much as though he was being told by a favourite teacher not to push his luck. Alex smiled. ‘Let me talk to them first, okay? Emotions are kind of high around here at the moment..’ ‘Okay.’ Daniel tried to mask his disappointment. Today was already proving to be a waste of time. ‘Can I offer you a drink before the tour?’ ‘Afterwards perhaps.’ ‘It shouldn’t take long. I’ll tell you as much as I can.’ *** He indicated for Daniel to go through the door opposite labelled ‘residents only’. Through it was an unhealthy, thin staircase which looked like it could barely fit or allow the weight of a small child through, let alone two fully grown men. Alex grinned at the look of trepidation on Daniel’s face. ‘Before we attempt the stairs, I suppose a point of interest is that directly under our feet is a stage.’ ‘A stage?’ ‘Are you a theatre-goer, Daniel?’ ‘I have seen my fair share of shows, I suppose..’ Daniel had attempted the theatre a handful of times but would hardly describe himself as a ‘theatre-goer.’ . His mum and dad had both loudly sobbed their way through Les Miserables, trying to outdo each other. He had found himself on edge, praying that his parents would stop crying and praying for a light hearted moment. When Master of the House came on he was so relieved he could have quite happily picked up a prop tankard and jumped over a few bar stools and sang along with gusto. Daniel just couldn’t lose himself in a performance, no matter how good it was. No matter if it was singing Hobbits, trains on roller skates or Jesus and Judas trying to outsing each other. He waited for the certainty of a line slip-up. It was a constant distraction. Daniel would find himself looking at the actors and wondering what they were having for tea later. If they were happy. Did the cast like each other? Were they in bitchy little groups? Did they hate it when someone nailed a note, take silent pleasure if someone’s voice cracked? Were they cringing as much as him when the male lead sang a solo, leaving the woman to gaze adoringly for four minutes into his eyes as he spat in her face at the high notes? And then the scene would change and he would have no idea what was going on. ‘I think perhaps we'll leave the stage for another day.’ Perhaps Alex could sense his discomfort. ‘Only I left the key in my room and it would be wasting your time, a lot to get through. Definitely worth a look at some point, though.’ ‘Swell. Shit. Did I just say swell?’ ‘You did.’ ‘I have never, ever said the word ‘swell’ in my life. Ever.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Really! Fuck me. Swell. Where the hell did swell come from? Via 1930s New York?’ Alex chuckled. ‘Don’t t worry yourself. I think this particular hotel backdrop grabs you and gives you a new character all of your own. And it’s a bugger. It holds no opinion to who you are and which character you would prefer. It’s like ‘Act one, Scene one, do you have your radio mike on?’... you know when you feel like you’re playing a part? When the things coming out of your mouth sound nothing like you?’ ‘Not really.’ ‘Hmm.’ Alex cleared his throat. ‘Any questions yet?’ Daniel shook himself, slightly unnerved. ‘I suppose firstly… is this place really haunted?’ ‘Oh, yes.’ ‘Do you tell all your potential customers that?’ ‘Scared?’ Alex chuckled. ‘It was always a debate whether to mention it in the brochure or not. ‘I’m not scared of ghosts. ’ ‘Some guests are. Most of them if they’re honest.’ ‘You seen one?’ ‘Seen one?’ Alex chuckled. ‘You want that drink now?’ ‘Go on- seriously- have you seen one?’ ‘Now, that’s not fair. I haven't worked you out yet.’ ‘Worked me out? ‘In regards to the ghosts or lack thereof. See, we had a whole morning meeting regarding ‘The Ghost Problem.’ This is the conclusion we came to. Young man walks in, has a Ghostbusters top on or starts talking about other dimensions… We tell him this is the most haunted building in England. We tell him about the noises in the basement. We tell him how the windows swing open of their own accord, even in the most mild of weather. Of the little girl in the pigtails and gas mask who loves nothing more than to learn her alphabet in the key of E at three in the morning. Especially in room 14 which, oh look Mr Ghostbuster, just so happens to be your room.’ Daniel stared. ‘That said, you aren’t swamped in children and an over-polite wife. See, if that were the case I would tell you to ignore anything you heard. That whistling you hear? I am so sorry, guilty as charged, I whistle all the time. Even in my sleep.The windows swinging open? Well, they’ve always been like that.’ ‘Which one is true? ‘Still thinking of staying?’ ‘...Yes’ ‘Room 14 is free. Shall we start?’ There was a sign saying that only residents could go up the staircase but Daniel could see nobody that would stop him even if he didn’t have the authority of Alex next to him. ‘I’m afraid the lift is out of service. It’s not far but the steps are a bit of a death trap, to be honest. Watch your step- and I mean every step.’ Daniel eyed the mismatched steps and the red carpet tufted out on each one. No wonder there are so many ghosts, he thought darkly. Guests would be lucky to survive the night. He followed Alex up to the first floor, stumbling despite himself. Alex, however, seemed to glide up the steps without thought. He stopped beside a bizarrely placed anchor on the landing. ‘Each floor originally had a different theme.’ Alex explained. ‘This floor was the Cruise Liner experience. It was very popular for a while. We kept the anchor. Memory of better days. The guests seem to like it but it does look rather random with the rest of the more...shall we say, mundane furnishings Miranda brought in.’ ‘The floor...it’s safe?’ ‘Oh yes.’ Alex said determinedly ‘Just old and tired.’ Daniel remained unconvinced as they walked along the corridor. The floor squeaked objectively with every step. The carpet looked as though at some point it was a vivid red but very much like the outside, had become a rather unpleasant faded, dirty version of itself. ‘This is my favourite spot in the hotel.’ Alex pulled back the curtain and Daniel felt himself give the first genuine reaction since he’d arrived. ‘It’s beautiful.’ The view, like the interior, seemed to be stuck in a different time. The window framed the Opera House Theatre opposite to the hotel, with the park in the foreground. Daniel could see the tops of a fountain and hear the squeals of delight as children played in the lake. ‘Stunning isn’t it?’ Alex looked proudly on, a touch of relief in his voice. The Opera House Theatre was completely white-bricked, and even in the sad drizzle seemed to shine as though it was a Spanish villa, bathed in bright sunlight. Daniel followed his gaze and looked across to the theatre- matinee crowds were starting to arrive. Little dots, on their first trip to the theatre. The Tiger Who Came to Tea was showing and many had their faces painted. ‘Makes you think doesn’t it?’ Alex said softly. ‘What do you mean?’ Alex didn’t answer him. *** The bar wasn’t what Daniel had been expecting at all. It reminded Daniel of an old traditional pub that had been taken over by a Wetherspoons. Bright, coffee table sized menus lay on each table, with bright orange and purple sofas facing them. It screamed of someone trying to be younger then they were, hiding a more plain yet classy interior under too much makeup. Perhaps sensing this, Alex tried to draw Daniel’s attention to some old cabinets next to the window. These, he said proudly, were some of the hotels best historical artifacts- Daniel peered in, frustrated by the faded football flags hanging down over the display. ‘Here.’ Alex got a key out of his pocket and opened up the cabinet. ‘Miranda won’t let us take the flags down. Says it gives the place a modern feel. They’ve been up since two World Cups ago.’ Alex gestured to Daniel to look in. There was a collection of trophies, certificated and framed photos. Daniel picked up the nearest trophy. ‘3rd prize in the Most Prestigious Toe Battle of 1922?’ Alex smiled. ‘One of my favourites.’ Daniel put it back and looked closely at a photograph. A row of people stood outside, some in army uniforms, unsmiling.It was as faded as everything else but an old handwritten inscription in the corner dated it as 1917. ‘Nice, isn’t it?’ Alex said. ‘That this place was here then… through it all. Shall we?’ The seating was completely inappropriate for eating. Alex indicated to a sofa which Daniel immediately sank far too deeply in to. The table was positioned far above it and Daniel looked sideways at an elderly lady struggling to get a spoonful of soup into her shaking mouth. He felt ashamed that it made his stomach turn and he turned down the offer of a plate of ham sandwiches, opting only for the local ale instead. Bizarrely, around their table was a collection of drawings of chickens . It made Daniel think of a picture from his mother’s house. There were mainly seascapes and photos on display but in the kitchen there was an inexplicable picture of a highland cow. Never had he heard his mum even make a passing comment on a highland cow or even the picture itself. An unsmiling waitress placed a board down with various offers splashed across it. ‘Win a Dream Holiday!’, ‘3 Fiery Shots for the price of 2!’ ‘Double up on any spirit for only £1.50!’ Alex looked at them sourly. ‘They don’t really go with the optimistic grandeur of the place, do they?’ ‘Not really.’ ‘Not very popular either. Last ditch effort by Miranda I think. Get the cool kids in...I dunno.Can hardly imagine a night of shots amongst the chickens can you?’ Daniel was alarmed that Alex suddenly looked very tired and tearful. ‘Things will pick up soon.’ Daniel said quietly. Alex smiled weakly. ‘That’s what I keep saying. Those exact words.’ He looked across at the old lady. ‘And I hate having to lie to them.’ ‘What if it wasn’t a lie?’ ‘Sorry?’ ‘What if…’ Daniel leant forward, his stomach churning with excitement. ‘What if we saved this place?’ ‘Saved it?’ ‘This article...it could drum up support. A couple of sob stories, some history, some ghosts...who can tell where it could lead?’ Alex gave him a sad smile,’ Sounds good.’ ‘No, I mean it! Get it up on social media, #savetheoldhall- get some interviews with staff, residents… this doesn’t have to be the end!’ ‘Well. Why not?’ The finality and lightness of this statement made it clear that Alex had said all he had to say on the matter. Feeling somewhat flat at this lack of enthusiasm, Daniel looked about the room feeling somewhat embarrassed. ‘I keep seeing signs for The Pauper’s Pit- had a look on my way back from the loo- but it said 'Staff Only.’ ‘That’s right. It’s the stage I was telling you about. Locked and bolted to the public, I’m afraid. ’ ‘Oh.’ Daniel felt momentarily begrudged that he was still counted as somebody not being able to look ‘behind the curtain.’ ‘Daniel.’ Alex fingered the beer mat. ‘How about you check in, as our guest? I mean, obviously you’d be a guest but...for free. Could help with the book.’ ‘The article’ ‘Excuse me, the article.’ Daniel considered Alex for a moment. Maybe this older man was unaware of the power of words and social media. Unaware of how far a few retweets could go. Daniel had never felt so needed. ‘You said room 14 was free?’
0 Comments
![]() Richard Thoday 60 ‘At any point it is okay to change life trajectory and start in a new direction…’ I met Richard at a secondary school we were both working at. He was automatically a work father type-figure. A brilliant TA, a problem solver… and one of the nicest men I have ever met. He is one of those rare people who is completely selfless. He genuinely wants to help people, and support them in any way he can. When I was struggling with my mental health last year due to work issues, Richard was one of the first to not only message but come and meet me to talk. It turns out he had had a similar experience. He told me that there was a big world outside of my current situation; it was so comforting to hear- and turns out he was right! He is a Guinness world record holder, a fixer of most things, and an all round decent chap. It has been a pleasure interviewing him, and I hope you enjoy the result... I sense a movie of his life in the works [I vote Tom Hanks as lead!] How would you describe yourself? I would describe myself as harmless, slightly lazy but never bored. Disliking of conflict and I like to see the best in everyone. Glass half full rather than half empty sort of person. How would others describe you? ‘Mr Nice Guy’ That’s definitely true! Is that a natural thing for you or do you have to bite your tongue every now and again? Being Mr Nice Guy is not an act, it’s the real me. I don’t know what makes us all different, so many factors that come together, but I really don’t like conflict. I understand that it’s a necessary part of life at times but I’d rather be without it if possible. So how do you deal with conflict when it is unavoidable? Seeing the best in people and living with a glass half full is lovely… but it means that at times I avoid conflict which means that issues go unresolved and build, then I put my head in the sand or run away. How was it working in a school? Working in a secondary school over a period of ten years moved from a challenging, interesting and very sociable experience, one where Mr Nice Guy can thrive and share, to feeling totally defeated, crushed and isolated. It became an unsustainable lifestyle which I had to leave. That particular job is not one for Mr Nice Guy any more. That is so sad… especially as I believe schools desperately need people like you! The thing that still makes me sad is that so much of life is wasted in school both for pupils and staff. There is a huge amount of good work done in schools, but the pupils I worked with on the whole hate being there, as do a lot of staff. That’s probably a sad truth…what is wrong in education nowadays? Education has been with us for a very long time and really hasn’t changed much since Victorian times. Education goes through trends and fads but is still based on the learning of facts which must be remembered and regurgitated in the right way. In general pupils can’t see the relevance of this for future life. Some can do this and will comply but many can’t do this and spend their whole school life railing against it rather than school seeking the skills or passions they have and nurturing them. I have no direct answers but felt increasingly unable to help the misfit pupils who were really crying out for help. I’ve moved through several big career changes in my working life and don’t regret them but I feel disappointed with myself that I could not see a way to resolve issues with school and, as I said before, simply ran away. I think sometimes the bravest thing we can do is leave a toxic situation… on a brighter note, tell us about the penny farthing! Okay so, penny farthing sounds a little random to most people but it’s allowed me to challenge myself in life in a way that I didn’t know was possible both emotionally and physically… breaking one of the oldest existing sporting world records while discovering a thing that brings joy to others. I know, you’re wondering how that comes about. Does it run in the family? I grew up in a non-sporting family. My parents didn’t watch, take part in or discuss sport so it didn’t factor in my life and I hated it at school as school sport needs you to be part of the team, if you’re no good at it you’re sidelined. So how did biking come about? In my thirties as a desperate bid to stop smoking when I became a dad, having tried many other things I took up bike racing and a switch was flicked in my head. I discovered a competitive me hiding deep in the back of my psyche that I didn’t know was there. Competition that was social, fun, healthy and I could control without the team, just me. A bike is one thing, but a penny-farthing… One day as a random change I entered a penny farthing race, as you do! This was really intended to be a one-off day of fun. I’d never ridden one, didn’t have one or know anything about them so it seemed the perfect challenge. I entered a terrifying race with some of the best riders from all over the world on a borrowed bike and came away with my soul glowing. Wow, I didn’t expect that. Did the other riders embrace you? I have no idea what it is about penny farthing riders but they are a different breed and guess what, they are all Mr Nice Guy, a world-wide family and support group. I made many lifelong friends that day and more in the 14 years since. Sounds like it was worth the risk! Plus you broke a 133-year-old record! Riding penny farthings has taken me to so many places and opened doors to so many joyous experiences that I can't believe how easily I could have not bothered with that first race and missed out what is now a huge part of my life. So why should others get involved? One of the most appealing things about riding a penny farthing, and I still don’t understand what it is about the bike that causes this, but if I go out for a ride I can guarantee that I will meet new people. I will have positive conversations that spin off in random ways with people that I would otherwise never meet. We would pass by each other with no reason to speak to each other. The penny farthing is a diffuser and engager which makes people smile. Smiling is good, right? Life without a penny farthing is unthinkable now. Do you have any other hobbies? I have lots of hobbies and genuinely I can never understand people who say that they are bored. I do rather flit from one thing to another and the house is littered with unfinished projects of one sort or another. I can definitely relate to that! I guess a common theme with hobbies is tinkering. I have a garage full of tools which I’m always adding to [although running out of space fast!] I like making, mending, pulling things to bits and generally learning how things work. Do you enjoy learning new skills? Learning new stuff is cool and I so wish that we had YouTube when I was younger. What a fantastic and inspiring resource that is. I’ve learned so much from It. What’s your latest hobby? A recent hobby is drumming in a Bateria Samba drumming Brazilian style with a local group. Totally new to me, very life affirming, great fun and making new friends through it. If you don’t know what Bateria Samba is then just check it out on YouTube. See, no time in life for being bored! Have you always lived in Derbyshire? What is it like living here? I have lived most of my life in Derbyshire. My family moved here when I was five. I spent four years away in further education and then moved straight back. At that time the draw to come back I guess was family and friends, not that fact that it's Derbyshire. To be honest I rather neglected Derbyshire, but over the years since I have grown to love it. The world is full of beautiful places to live and Derbyshire has its cons as well as pros but we are lucky to live in first world conditions with first world problems. Beautiful changing scenery, weather with seasons and wildlife. Derbyshire has so many beautiful places to explore… I am constantly a little embarrassed about how much of Derbyshire I still have to discover despite spending so much time out on bikes riding around the back lanes and tracks. Going away on adventures is always nice but coming home is just as sweet. There’s no place like home… I am hugely lucky to live in a small cottage with a sunny aspect and a view. The sweeping vista south west takes in the Derwent river in the valley, rolling agricultural hills with farms, railway line embankment slicing through the middle it, woods and stands of trees. It’s a fairly average Derbyshire view but I can happily spend hours sitting outside with a cup of tea watching the transitions happening in front of me, some slow, some fast. It's home and I feel part of it having been here so long. I love travelling. By that I mean moving through landscapes as opposed to going to a destination, but I always feel a little uncomfortable when I move away from the solid dark gritstone walls that have been the boundaries in life all around me for as long as I can remember. What kind of father are you? Maybe you should be asking my family this not me! I have a lovely daughter who I always enjoy spending time with. I was lucky enough to be able to quit work and look after her at home when she was born until she was old enough to go to school and we had lots of fun together. What have you passed on to her? I’d like to think that I have always tried to encourage my daughter to pursue the life that she wants and given her the opportunities to try things and not be afraid to be her own person. Did you have the same message as a child? I have to say that as a kid I felt rather restricted in life outlook, I’m sure my parents loved me but I felt stifled and unable to break out in new directions. I wouldn’t want my daughter to look back on life when she is older and wish about missed opportunities, which I do. Do you think it’s a generational thing? I guess it's natural that one generation is moulded by the previous and follows similar traits in all sorts of ways, jobs, religion, diet, hobbies but I guess this becomes less and less true with modern communications, internet, social media etc. All of the ideas and possibilities in life are at our fingertips. My daughter has at times struggled with a very tough career choice and I have made it very clear to her that she has nothing to prove to me or anyone else. I am already immensely proud of her work ethic, principles and support of friends and family. I think it can be scary to change direction in life… At any point it is okay to change life trajectory and start in a new direction as long as she is happy with her life. Has your recent accident given you a new outlook? Breaking a hip is not fun I have to say and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I’m a very active person and also struggle with a condition commonly known as ‘Restless leg Syndrome’ meaning that at times, particularly in the evening and at night I just can't keep my legs still and have to move about and do things, even at 4am when I really want to sleep. Having a broken hip does not work well as a partner to Restless leg Syndrome so I have been finding that really tough. I can’t imagine you having to slow down… There are always silver linings in black situations. After the initial pain and hospital treatment, when I got home and figured out that I wasn’t going anywhere for sometime, I started doing lots of little jobs that never get done in normal everyday rushing around life. Sounds like a new outlook… A bit of time to sit and drink a cup of tea slowly and watch the grass growing is something I wouldn’t normally make enough time for but I’m getting really good at it! Probably the biggest silver lining is that despite trying to retire and spend more time at home with family I’m hopeless at saying no to people so work was constantly nagging me. The accident has really enforced retirement and I no longer have to worry about upsetting people by saying ‘no’, as it's not me, it’s the situation saying that. How was your stay in hospital? Spending time in hospital in a ward of old people with similar injuries is sobering (at the time of writing I’m not old, I’m a youthful 60) and a reminder that time waits for no one and we must, as the Prince Buster song lyric says, “enjoy yourself, its later than you think.” Film: Wall-E Song: Back in Black- AC/DC Stage Show: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time TV series: Shed and Buried Book: The Secret Island by Enid Blyton Word: Marmalade You have to be famous to be considered brave
If my heels were high and my waist tight, If the paparazzi followed me both day and night You would call my expressiveness brave my puissant words honest …but you have to be famous to be considered brave A celebrity, for a platform for being honest [my reactions do not make your actions okay…] So I'll bite my tongue collapse inwardly; ‘Oh, me? I’m happy. I'm fine.’ Those words destroying me, one letter at a time. The Old Hall Hotel is at its heart a collection of intertwining stories about a hotel which still accepts permanent guests- a struggling writer comes to stay to report on the rumours of it closing and begins to meet each of the eccentric guests, writing their life stories in the hope of raising awareness about the hotel in the hope that it will remain open. Although the hotel is inspired by the Old Hall Hotel in Buxton, Derbyshire, the story and its characters are entirely fictional. PROLOGUE ‘This is indeed a very special place with its own special feeling’ Daniel Defoe, 1727 about The Old Hall Hotel in Buxton, Derbyshire. I realise that writers feel that they own things more than other people. I realise that they sit in cafes and theatres and absorb people. They decide people’s lives based on their outfit. Their upbringing from their speech and language. I understand that as a writer you have probably measured me up already. What you don’t understand is that as soon as the couple leave their table, or their theatre seats or leave their hat behind on the bus...the story doesn’t end. THEIR story doesn’t end. Or perhaps you haven’t been so careless? Perhaps you haven’t forgotten them or made them an interesting quirk to flesh out a character you have already written. Perhaps you stole them and created a book around them. The thing is, you may have gone off on a tangent in your head because of the ketchup sachet the couple opened but didn’t touch, or the way she flinched when he tried to take her hand but lives DO go on. Stories end. Lives...they don’t. Ever. Not ever. So write your stories. Write whatever you want. But don't expect people to believe them. ![]() Chelsea Massey 28 ‘Being creative keeps my mind from spiralling… if I didn't have stuff to make I think It would just eat away at me…’ I met Chelsea ten years ago at the start of my undergrad, and it makes me smile just writing about her. I first ‘saw’ Chelsea on a Facebook page set up by our student digs before we all moved in. For any person stepping into the world of undergrad, it is a wonderful, terrifying and at times bewildering experience. You walk into a new home, a new city, a new way of living- It's a bit like walking into a social experiment- who are going to clash? Who are going to be immediate friends? I'm amazed it hasn't been turned into a reality show yet. As I was scrolling through my potential BFF’s, one picture immediately caught my eye… a girl bear hugging Jared Padalecki, star of Supernatural and Gilmore Girls. Be still my beating heart! I have never be so drawn to somebody and felt so jealous of them at the same time! I messaged fangirl style, asking if the photo was real… I got a fangirl response, yes it was, and was I a Sam or a Dean girl? So then started a friendship I cherish deeply- we lived together in second and third year and I did indeed find one of my best friends- a quirky, kind, and loyal one at that. Whether it is someone to belt out 'Carry on Wayward Son' to, or to have a rant about life, Chelsea is the girl. Thank goodness for comic con photo ops! I love her to bits, and I know I have a special friend for life, and a shorthand which only comes with living with someone [she is also one of the only people I can still message with a Supernatural gif and for her to immediately know what I mean!] A graphic designer, Chelsea is a fierce and unique creative. She works for Twinkl and is also involved in the likes of Doodle Club, a popular event in Sheffield. How would you describe yourself? I would describe myself as a creative person that can't sit still. I like to experiment and try new things. I hate to be in a routine. I'm also a pet loving cat momma of two. How would others describe you? I'm told I'm a little bit quirky (putting it nicely!) because of my interests in all things spooky but also all things nerdy. I like to help whenever I can. So I hope people would describe me as helpful and friendly. You are a huge lover of animals! What do animals offer to our lives? Now that's an easy question on the surface… absolute pure joy! Pets particularly give us a reason to get up every morning, they need food or walking or attention (most of the time in my case, just attention, on a slab of more attention...) This is so true. When I was ill with my mental health, Ronnie my cat would meow at me to get me up and about! They make us smile, make us laugh and somehow always seem to know when you need them most. Even just videos online of a monkey goofing around or a cute little otter relaxing on his back can bring you the happiness that sometimes you need. We lived together in Liverpool- and you fell in love with it as much as I did! I grew up in the very small touristy town of Conwy and when I went to Liverpool for my BA in Graphic Design. I kinda just got blown away by everything. Sure it had a lot of the independent shops and galleries that Conwy had, but everything was four times the size! It felt like I stepped into another world. We had so many adventures! The nightlife was something I haven't found anywhere else, everyone was always out for a good time and the music scene is just something else, it's incredible. So yes, I love Liverpool. It was always good fun and I hold it deep in my heart. We basically met because of the TV Series, Supernatural. What does the show mean to you? Supernatural…well, it went on so long that it saw me through high school, college, my BA and my MA! It had its ups and downs like any show lasting 15 years, but to me it means so much more than just a show. It makes you laugh, it makes you cry… And you were more than your typical fan…you have the tattoo to prove it! I went to several conventions when I was in my teens and I have so many amazing memories of just being with my family and enjoying singing and dancing with them, laughing at the amazing cast and it gave me something to look forward to every year. And, like you say, I met you over Supernatural - it's one of those shows that brings like minded people together and makes unbreakable friendships. For that alone, I’m grateful for the show! What led you to graphic design? In high school I had a graphic arts teacher that really understood my love for typography, photography and layout. She encouraged me to collect bits of designs that I liked and analyse them. Teachers like that are worth their weight in gold Still to this day I have large collections of this stuff that I'm always adding too. Things like beer mats, clothes tags, leaflets. She really helped me to find what types of design I like and try and figure out what I admired about it. I think that's why physical print designs are my favourite projects to take on because I like tactile designs that I can hold in my hands. Did you enjoy school? No, not at all. I enjoyed college and I enjoyed university but I hated school. I didn't get diagnosed with dyslexia until seven years after I left school. It’s worrying the amount of people who discover this later in life… When I was diagnosed, everything just clicked into place. I'm really good with images and visual elements, but when it comes to writing and reading I am terrible at it, so that made school very tough. I would study and none of it would sink in. Now I know why, but at the time it really got to me. What led you to living in Sheffield? In 2016 I went to Offset that was being held in the Crucible Theatre. I think it was the first and last time it was held there but I truly had such a great time. I couldn't afford to go to the main event in Ireland and it seemed a perfect opportunity to see what it was all about. And you fell in love with the city too? I got to meet some amazing artists and designers that all live here and I realised what such a creative, friendly city it was. Long story short but after that, I introduced the city to my sister, who is also a creative, and she came here to study illustration. I followed her up here a year into her studies. You and your sister are very close. What does family mean to you? It means a great deal to me. I currently live with my sister in Sheffield and we are pretty much inseparable. How about your parents? Our parents are still in Wales but we keep in touch almost every single day. I don't get to see them as much as I would like to because it's a long journey without a car…but we take turns coming back and forth from Wales and take trips together every year, so we're very lucky. They never fail to make me smile and I just love them so much. You say you have a love for ‘spooky’ things- can you tell us a bit more about that? Yes, I have a little side business that I've been running for just over a year now called 'Ghostly Outfits'. I make mostly little clay outfits, hats, scarves, headbands… you name it! I do them all for these wonderful little ghosts made by the York Ghost Merchants. What are they? They're highly collectable ghost figurines that I just absolutely love. One day I just started making little outfits for my own collection and I just fell in love with the process. I then ended up selling them on my Etsy because I ran out of ghosts to dress up and they started to sell. Now it's become my way to relax and to make a little money in my spare time. A lot of people find them a little odd, maybe even a little bit morbid, but I just find them wonderful. You have spent a lot of time at conventions… Yes I love them, they let you meet super talented people who you admire. The community around them is what makes them so special. I keep in touch with a lot of people I have met at conventions and it will forever surprise me just how much I have in common with them. What is your ideal weekend? My ideal weekend.. I would say a little trip away to a gorgeous little apartment where I can design or make my little ghost outfits and then wander out in the afternoon exploring in the sun - with lots of great food. Greek is my absolute favourite at the moment! Deep question next which I find myself asking most people at the moment…the world is in such a mess- how do you find hope? That's a tough question, I suppose I surround myself with like minded individuals who give me hope that one day we will be able to make a change for the better. Being creative keeps my mind from spiralling too - if I didn't have stuff to make I think It would just eat away at me. Film: The Crow Song: Machines- Biffy Clyro Stage Show: Derren Brown- Svengali TV series: Supernatural Book: Sandman Slim- Richard Kadrey A final word: Hygge A rose-tinted look at the life of Amy Winehouse
Director: Sam Taylor-Johnson Writer: Matt Greenhalgh 15 122 mins Do you remember in woodwork at school, when you finished a project and then you were told to smooth the rough edges? I don't think I need to finish the analogy for you to see where I'm going with this... Back in 2015, I sat in a cinema with other Winehouse fans, absorbed in the Asif Kapadia documentary, 'Amy', which unashamedly showed the various stages of Winehouse's frantic, soulful, and ultimately tragically short life, using archive footage from home videos, performance footage and audio from friends and family. It is difficult to watch at times. An incoherent Winehouse walking on stage looking bewildered and out-of-control as she is heckled and booed... it's heartbreaking, disturbing, and infuriating that the people she should have relied on the most, are nowhere to be seen. Now we have Back to Black, a biopic by Sam Taylor-Johnson exploring the same turbulent years of Amy Winehouse. My main issue with the film... those rough edges I mentioned before? They needed to be explored. If you are choosing to do an honest, raw portrayal of an icon, you either turn it up to eleven, or you do a Greatest Showman and fabricate the whole story. Back to Black fits somewhere between the two. Every character comes out of the film looking like pretty decent, uncomplicated human beings. I applaud not demonising people; after all, these are real people, and none of us can really know the truth about events [it's the pass most bio-pics are given] but certain events are so glossed over that I was fully expecting certain family members to be listed as executive producers in the closing credits. Amy's father is seen as nothing but supportive and concerned, [his decision to follow Amy with a film crew to make a documentary whilst his daughter was recovering is not mentioned, nor his insistence that she go on tour whilst clearly struggling] ; Blake is portrayed as an impish rogue who helps Amy find her sound and isn't even present when she first takes Class A drugs [He's just a confused soul who is worried Amy is going to run off with a celebrity. Hmm.] Amy's mother barely has two lines. Her friends, so vital to her [as seen in the Amy documentary] are reduced to clapping hands in the audience. Sam Taylor-Johnson has tackled icons before. Nowhere Boy, a film about the early life of John Lennon, also received mixed reviews. I have sympathy in that there are so many Beatles experts who will spot inaccuracies or an OOC moment a mile off, but here she tackles another problem in that the life of Amy Winehouse is still so fresh in the target audiences mind. I couldn't help but think this would have faired better on stage, where audiences are more forgiving of exposition and monologues. On film it is jarring and at times uncomfortable to view. The film isn't terrible by any means. It is fast-paced, funny and poignant at times, with a clear love for its subject matter. The performance by Marisa Abela [as Winehouse] is certainly one to be admired. I was surprised to learn before watching that she, like Taron Edgerton before her in Rocketman, had chosen to sing the vocals herself, which she does with impressive gusto. Giles Martin has done a fine job with the music, and it immediately wants you to listen to Amy's back catalogue. On occasion, I thought the impersonation a bit exaggerated, but overall, she leads the film skillfully and well. What would Amy have made of this? I wouldn't even dare try and imagine. I suppose we all wonder how we want to be perceived by future generations.... I suspect, to find the real Amy, we need only listen to the songs she has left behind. The parts in between should maybe be left alone...which is the difficulty of the biopic. Back to Black is showing in cinemas from today. |
AuthorEllie Fearn Categories
All
Archives |