A Businessman friend called me one morning.  There were some disturbances at their place of work it seems, that were getting out of hand.

When he was clearing up some work one evening he heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs at the end of the corridor where his office was situated.

He knew his partner was sitting outside in his car waiting to give him a lift home and everyone else in the building would be gone at this hour, so nervously he locked his office and walked quietly to the staircase. There was no-one in sight. He stood for a while listening – there wasn’t a sound. Bravely he went up the broad staircase to the double doors of the room that was leased as a workshop to a carpenter. The doors weren’t locked and so he opened them and switched on the lights. The room was deserted, so he went back downstairs and, after setting the alarm system he joined his partner in the car.

The next day the joiner called in the office and told the partners a strange story.

It seems that he had been aware of an odd atmosphere in his workshop for quite some time. Also he seemed to see a shadow in a corner now and again. However, the thing that caused him the greatest shock had happened the day before.

He and his apprentice were working together at one of the long benches that ran the length of the large room. Suddenly something made them both look up from their work in time to see a piece of wood rise up in the air, hurtle across the room and hit the wall on the other side.

Although he left his tools tidily together on a bench, they were often lying on the floor when he came in to work.

Sometimes, in to get an order finished the joiner used to come in during the night and one such night, the room which was never warm, suddenly became extremely cold. Turning from the bench he saw a figure standing about twenty feet away from him. It was a man of average height, wearing a brown trilby, a brown overcoat, white shirt and a tie. He looked as solid as a rock.

The joiner felt the hair on the back of his head stand up. He was really frightened to death. The ghost stood there at least ten seconds whilst the joiner packed up his tools, locked up and left.

He had the same terrifying experience one more time when working late, but this time he wanted something done about it - he wouldn’t go back into the room until it was, and John, my friend told him  he would see what  he could do.

I was quite interested and said I would come over that minute to have a look around.

I followed John up the wide staircase and we both stood at the threshold of the very large and extremely untidy room. The tubular lights were the old fashioned type and were very noisy indeed. As my eyes roamed over the clutter and the long benches with unfinished wooden items standing in inch deep sawdust and wood shavings, I noticed at the far end untidily boarded up, broken windows overlooking a very overgrown garden.

Suddenly I heard the sound of old fashioned dance music all around me, something perhaps from the early part of the century.

‘Can you hear that?’ I asked John.

He stared at me, his eyes wide.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘Dance music. Very old fashioned though,’ I told him.

‘Well this was the Scala dance hall- the Danse-de-Luxe, you know,’ he said.

‘Really!’ I was amazed that such an awful place could have been a dance hall. I had only ever heard of  the Danse-de-Luxe by reputation, for my mother had told me I was never to go there when I was in my teens. I had then no idea even of where it was.

I told John that my husband Alan and I would come back on Saturday at one o’clock and we would perhaps be able to see what it was all about.

When we arrived on Saturday there were three people who all worked in the building and including the joiner, waiting for us. We went into the room and the three stayed by the door whilst I cleared the thick layer of dust, sawdust and shavings off the top of the only seat available for Alan to sit on.

I had forgotten to bring the music tape that I usually play in order that Alan could get relaxed enough for the trance to happen. However I set up the microphone and tested the tape recorder and waited for spirit to link up with us.

It was all very quiet that afternoon apart from a blackbird singing away in a tree outside.

After a few minutes I realised that someone was focused or ‘there’ with Alan so I welcomed him and told him  that he was able to speak to us.

We had to wait a little longer but eventually the ‘haunting’ spirit did speak.

Andy: Have you got a name?

A: Do you want to talk?

A: Who are you?

A: Come on, what's it all about? We can all hear you if you want to talk you know.

A: What do you come here for? Do you like the wood?

And then a voice came through Alan

Voice: It's about damn time you people stopped making a mess of the place. We couldn't have it any more. Look at it - look at it (voice becoming agitated) It's filthy! What d'you do with the place? Nothing!
(almost shouted) Look at it - filth all over the place (quieter)
Doesn't anyone push a brush around this place anymore?
(becoming agitated again) Mmm? The noise - the racket. How do
you expect to get  peace - it used to be nice – clean.  No! (shouted)
it's gone on too long - it used to be clean - painted. Now it’s all noise - filth! It wasn't built for that!
A: What was it built for?

Voice: For people - to enjoy themselves –it was pleasant to be here - to enjoy themselves but no. Look at it. Nobody would come here to enjoy themselves would they? (voice becoming very agitated
and loud) You couldn't do anything on the floor except get filthy.

A: Did you have it built?

V: Did I have built? (sarcastically)No! of course I didn't.

A: Were you the manager?

V: I kept the place clean (Still very agitated) Clean so people could come in - enjoy themselves - sit down - feel comfortable.No filth no dirt - nothing - people took a pride in coming here. But no, not any more. You can't look out of the windows and see anything pleasant. It’s just grime, filth not the pleasant surroundings it used to be. None of that, none of that at all. Every minute of the day it's filth and noise. And you expect me to enjoy coming here?.

A: They don't use it any more for a dance hall.

V: Why can't you keep it clean? Does it have to look like a...garrett?  Look at the walls - look at the walls - look at the ceiling (becoming very agitated and louder) It's disgusting.

A: It's a workshop

V: It's a workshop! It's a pigsty - it hasn't been cleaned for years. All I ask is that you keep it tidy, use it - for people to enjoy themselves in.
A: You can't anymore…

V: (interrupting) Why?  Why? (shouted in a very angry voice) It's falling to pieces.

A: It's served its purpose hasn't it?

V: What do they do with it now?  What do they do, allowing it to get filthy? (shouting by now)

A: It's being used creatively

V: Creating filth! (very loud) Come through the door - what do you see? Filth. Walls were white - details - magentas - purples - polished floors. Now - Look at it - abject filth. Noise, filth  and degradation. And you expect me, who spent years in this place, years keeping it clean for the patrons. Oh yes, come in – sit down,  relax,  feel comfortable - oh no - filth - it's a matter of what's there. They come in here – creative!  They create filth and dirt. It's disgusting.

A: What are you hanging about here for anyway?

V: Why shouldn't I? (very annoyed) why shouldn't I? (very loud) I spent my life here - spent my life.

A: Your life has finished. You've moved on now. Why hang about for something that's gone?

V: I am HERE - it means ME –I put a lot into this place, and I got a lot of pleasure out of it and I won't allow it to be like this!

A: Not much you can do about it, is there?

V: (Snap)s Why are you here?

A: (matter of factly) We came to talk to you.

V: Oh no you haven't!  Somebody's got the willies - that's what it is - and by jove they're going to get a bit more.

A: What good will it do you?

V: It will give me the pleasure of making them realise this place is not what it should be- You can't sit down, you can't relax. The nicest thing I've heard all day is that bird. The buzzing - the noise - all the time - what pleasure is there in it?

A: Well those are machines, aren't they, to make woodwork and things. It's a different use.

V: I don't care what it's used for.
A: What's your name anyway?

V: Stanley (shouted)

A: Stanley what?

V: Why?
A: Pardon?

V: WHY?

A: We're just interested to see when you were...

V: I'm also interested in you - doing something about this
place.

A: They've had a lot of trouble, the people here. Have you been responsible for that?

V: Trouble? What trouble have they had? A bit of awkwardness. A bit of spleen venting. They don't like it – I don't like this - think of me? They don't think of me at all - All I ask is you keep it clean for people.

A: People don't come in here any more. It's a workshop. Just one man.

V: He comes in here doesn't he?

A: Well it suits his purpose doesn't it?

V: Then his purpose will have to change.

A: People are more important than places you know. What are you doing with yourself? What improvements are you making to yourself?

V: That's not the point is it?
A: It is the point though. You should be doing more things.

V: You're wrong - you're wrong. I'm here, and here I'm going to stay - until - someone gets a brush and smartens the place up.

A: So if it's all tidied up, you'll go will you?

V: Oh no! I shall be happy. I shall be quiet and contented and out of the way.

A: But the idea for yourself is to move on and improve yourself not just buildings.

V: The idea madam, the idea, is for me to look after this place.
It was an instruction  to me – “Stanley my dear fellow look after this place will you? Make sure it's clean when the patrons have gone. Tomorrow when they come back it will be ready for them won't it?”  Yes it will. A trust - in me and no one else. (Still very annoyed)

A: It ended when you died you know - you have died you realise that don't you?.

V: Nothing ends - a trust is a trust.

A: Yes but the use of buildings comes to an end. Nobody comes to this place to dance any more.

V: (Shouting) Who'd want to dance in here, tell me that?  A foxtrot in the dust?

A: But it would cost a lot of money.

V: (Quietly) Madam I don't but care for your worries - All I'm concerned about is ME (shouted). I was entrusted to this place..

A: (Interrupting) And you did. You carried out that trust and your obligations and they came to an end when you left the  earth time. (Long pause)

V: I am still here and here I will stay - until someone does something about it.

A: You're being a bit fanatical aren't you?

V: For some years madam - I have been quite seething with the numerous uses this place has been put to. About none of them have I said anything - no - until I saw, not improvement - No they were not going to improve anything. Why didn't they pull it down? T'would have been better than this. Could have planted a
few trees.

A: And what would you have done then?

V: (Thrown a little bit) I would have perhaps - gone or appreciated it  but I cannot appreciate this, (shouted) never will- never will. So don't expect madam that I shall. I am NOT unreasonable. It was expected of me to do something, and now I am telling you, I expect a little bit - of - appreciation. Smartness - at least, keep the filth down, and be happy (then he shouted) who's happy in this place?"

A: You're not are you?

V: I'm not. It is like a counting house - people coming in with long faces - no enjoyment anymore. Creative workshop. Is that what you call it? Look at it, look at it. What's creative about it? - No. People will have to change, and until they do - I shall stay here. Understand me?  Understand me?

A: I think we all do

V: (shouted very sarcastically) Jolly good - then I hope you'll do something about it - then I shall be happy - and you won't hear a thing from me - but - unless someone does something  constructive and helpful - no - I'm not going to be reasonable. Good day madam.

A: Good day.

V: Now I hope you'll do something about it - look at it - I do hope you will do something about it, (very quietly)  

Then Alan’s gate-keeper, Lomond came along to tell us that they were helping Stanley. He also said that the Danse-de-Luxe had been quite a place in its time, with all manner of things going on – a private gaming club being one. He also told how one man had hung himself in a small room at the top of the building and also that Stanley used to have a dog of which he was very fond. It seems that when the dog died it was buried in the garden – about four feet down.

The building was built on a piece of open land, a field, and that Stanley had a small house there too.