Embracing the Spirits: True Stories of My Encounters With the Other Side (28 page)

far outweighed their suffering; as evidenced by the two viva-

cious women before me.

As a result of a bleak and painful day in their family’s his-

tory, Ginny became aware of her extrasensory gifts, abilities which have continued to enrich her life almost forty years

later. The lesson for us all is that no matter how bleak and

unforgiving the world can sometimes appear, there is light and positivity hiding just below the surface, should we allow it to shine through.

By the time the cab pulled up in front of my hotel, I felt

as though I had deeply bonded with these women I had met a

mere half hour ago. We hurriedly exchanged email addresses,

hugs and kisses, and a moment later they were gone.

The sisters left a sense of awe in their wake, and the con-

viction that I was supposed to meet them all along. It seemed

I had been privy to yet another random yet pivotal reminder

of how closely bound the spirit world is with our own. And

how sometimes (quite often when we least expect it) the spirit world takes charge and overshadows our own. Perhaps it is

238 Out of Body

the spirit realm which best knows our true selves, stepping in when we most need it and guiding us through our trials.

Despite the harrowing story I’d just heard, I couldn’t help

smiling. Or perhaps it was
because
of the story that I felt so inspired. As I walked into the hotel lobby, I couldn’t have felt more bolstered. I was alone in a strange city, two thousand

miles from home, yet I couldn’t have felt more safe. I knew

without a doubt that the spirits were looking out for me.

T h e M i c h e l i n M a n

When Jodie and I met just over two years ago, we discovered

a mutual interest in the paranormal. Jodie has as sensitivity

which seems to attract ghostly visitations, some of which have left her utterly terrified. None more so than her encounters

with the ghoul she likened to a cartoon character composed

entirely of tyres.

“I know it sounds ridiculous but it’s the best way to describe him. This thing
looked
exactly
like the Michelin Man …”

Jodie’s story stretches back to the early nineties; when she

was a twenty-something newly-wed. As excited as Jodie and

her husband were to move into their new home, it didn’t take

long before the gloss began to wear off. Something about it

just didn’t feel right. Jodie was especially sensitive to her new home’s feeling of heaviness; and its oppressive atmosphere

seemed to intensify as time went on.

Any suspicions that their home was haunted were con-

firmed in the early hours of a cold, winter’s morning. Jodie

239

240 The Michelin Man

was awoken by a gushing sound coming from the corner of

the room.

“It was pretty loud,” she told me. “Loud enough to wake

me from a deep sleep.”

As soon as she opened her eyes, Jodie saw the globular fig-

ure standing just beyond the foot of the bed; its body shape

defined by a mass of undulating blobs. It looked as revolting as the feeling it seemed to emanate; unadulterated evil.

Jodie was transfixed by the disturbing vision before her, it

seemed as though it was challenging her and had no intention

of backing away. Although its body was a huge spongy mass,

its features was surprisingly small. A pinched and thin-lipped face leered at her from the darkness; she was terrified.

“The worst thing was I couldn’t move,” she told me. “I was

completely paralysed. I couldn’t even make a sound to wake

my husband. All I could do was look.”

All the while the gushing sound seemed to be getting

louder, until the room was engulfed in vibration and noise.

And when Jodie realised where the sound was coming from,

the whole situation suddenly felt infinitely worse.

The Michelin Man was urinating against the bedroom

wall, his amorphous head turned towards Jodie. He was obvi-

ously intent on causing maximum distress, a look of evil satisfaction on his face.

“I suppose that’s when my anger overtook everything else,”

said Jodie. “I was disgusted.”

Her voice suddenly restored, Jodie began screaming. She

unleashed a torrent of expletives that would under normal cir-

cumstances have made her blush. Her husband was of course

woken by the commotion, and leapt up in a panic. He was

convinced that his wife was being attacked.

The Michelin Man 241

By now the Michelin Man had vanished, leaving Jodie

unable to prove that he had been there at all. Her husband

tried to convince her that she’d been dreaming.

Jodie however had no doubts as to the reality of her vis-

itation. And although further proof was unwarranted, the

Michelin Man saw fit to show himself once again.

The perfect opportunity to terrorise his target presented

itself a few weeks later. Jodie’s husband was away on business, leaving an anxious Jodie alone in the house.

It wasn’t long after settling into bed that the Michelin Man

made himself known to her, announcing his presence with a

sudden whoosh of air. A moment later he was at the end of

Jodie’s waterbed, which began to undulate as he moved towards

her.

“Get out!” Jodie screamed. “Just fuck off!”

She snapped on the light and bolted out of the bedroom,

as she continued shouting profanities. She was determined to

make him go away.

Peace was restored for at least a little while, until another

vulnerable woman moved into the master bedroom. By now

Jodie’s marriage was over and she had moved out. Her ex-hus-

band was working away, so his sister decided to move in to

take care of the house.

“She copped it worse than me,” said Jodie. “She still cries

about it to this day.”

Jodie told me that not long after moving out of her mari-

tal home, she called in to drop off some paperwork. Despite

the break-up of her marriage, she and her sister-in-law had

remained good friends. It wasn’t uncommon for Jodie to call

by for a drink and a chat. This time however, the women’s con-

versation felt strained and somehow different.

242 The Michelin Man

It didn’t take much encouragement for her sister-in-law to

reveal what was wrong; she had been subjected to the atten-

tions of the Michelin Man.

Jodie’s heart sank. She hadn’t wanted to frighten her so had

kept the details of the frightening visitations to herself. She had hoped that after her abusive tirade the ghost had finally gone.

Jodie couldn’t have been more wrong, the Michelin Man

was obviously staying put.

“It’s hard to even describe him” said her sister-in-law. “It

was really weird, his body shape just kept changing.”

“He looks like the Michelin Man, doesn’t he?”

Her sister-in-law nodded in agreement as the tears began

to fall. Apparently the entity had violated her, lying on top

of her as his globular hands trailed her paralysed body. She

couldn’t even scream.

A cold uneasiness had settled on the house, the two women

knew they could never feel safe there again.

Jodie told me that her sister-in-law dealt with her trauma

by launching herself into researching the house’s history. She had to make some sense of the terrifying events that had transpired. Perhaps that way she could then finally let them go.

She discovered that an old recluse named George used to

live there, and had in fact died in the master bedroom. Had he been trying to scare off its more recent occupants in the belief they were intruders? Or was he simply evil?

Jodie tells me that she still sees her ex sister-in-law and that she continues to carry the scars of the night she encountered the Michelin Man. The house itself has since been knocked

down and in its place stands a stylish new residence. I’d hate to think what George would make of it, especially since it

superseded his beloved home. I have no doubt that if he disap-

proves, he will waste no time in letting someone know.

T h e G h o s t o f

G o v e r n m e n t H o u s e

When I tell people that I write about ghosts and the paranor-

mal, my revelation is generally met with one of two responses.

They either become instantly dismissive, or else they are

intrigued by my subject matter. Of the latter group, many

go on to tell me about paranormal experiences of their own.

Their stories are quite often captivating, and many find their way into the pages of one of my books. Others still, capture my imagination to the extent where I am eager to know more,

and they often set me off on a tangent of research. I think of little else for the duration of writing the chapter. The ghosts become so ingrained in my thoughts that it feels as though I

owe it to them to find about their history. It’s almost like a sense of obligation to share their stories with the world and work out why it is that these souls have remained earthbound.

Such was the case when I met Beryl, an elderly patient

with a firm belief in ghosts. She was eager to hear of my expe-243

244 Ghost of the Government House

riences, and was just as enthusiastic to share her own. Work-

ing as a tour guide at the 150 year-old Government House

building, gave her quite a selection of stories to choose from.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the building was reputed to be a

stomping ground for ghosts.

One ghost in particular, however, was a doggedly persis-

tent presence. Rare was the tour that somebody didn’t report

encountering the mischievous ghost of Cyril; whose atten-

tions were more often than not directed at the ladies.

“He was quite the ladies’ man, you see,” chuckled Beryl.

“In fact, that’s exactly what got him into trouble!”

As the story went, Cyril’s womanising ways incurred the

wrath of his jilted fiancé, who shot him at point blank range during the annual St John of God Hospital Ball. It’s believed that Cyril has been haunting the ballroom ever since, and Beryl’s stories seem to suggest that this is indeed true.

There are numerous reports of people seeing a darting,

black-dressed figure, and indeed Cyril was dressed in a black

tuxedo at the time of his death. Others still, report being

touched, and of course, these claims invariably come from

women! The cold, ghostly fingers are reported to gently caress one’s cheek, or sometimes Cyril prefers to stroke the person’s hair or their neck. Cyril had also been known to place a definite hand on guests’ shoulders; a manifestation so alarming

that the person in question is often traumatised to the point of leaving mid-tour.

Beryl, however, found Cyril to be charming. Even though

his most spectacular ghostly displays were centred around her, Beryl refused to be frightened. She spoke of him with such

affection that I just had to know more. Who exactly was this

ghost and how long had he been prowling the halls of Govern-

Ghost of the Government House 245

ment House? Was he stuck and unable to move on? Or was he

happy creating mischief amongst the building’s female guests?

I decided to do some research to find out all I could about

Cyril.

Of course the murder had been quite a scandal, and accounts

of Cyril’s untimely demise dominated the news of the day. It

wasn’t hard uncovering the details of Cyril’s story, as the Government House murder was invariably plastered all over the front

page of the Australian papers. The more I delved into the newspaper archives, the more of a connection I felt with this tragic ghost. Given the circumstances of his death, it seemed unlikely he would be anything but earthbound.

Cyril Gidley was a twenty five year old marine engineer

when he met his untimely death in 1925.

This is a photograph of Cyril Gidley.

He was quite a handsome man!

246 Ghost of the Government House

In the early hours of August 27th, Cyril’s one time fiancé,

Audrey Campbell Jacob (an attractive, twenty year-old art stu-

dent) approached him as he was dancing with another woman.

Reports from the evening state that Cyril had been pointedly

ignoring the love-sick Audrey all evening; a situation which led to the jilted Audrey feeling more and more incensed.

According to transcripts from the trial, Audrey had attended

the ball with a female friend, unaware that Cyril would be