[D & G] Grandma's Basement

The story I am about to write is true and happened some years ago. I was in my late teens and had married about a year and a half prior to the event. My then wife and I were at her parents’ house, having a few drinks after a nice evening meal. This used to happen quite often, especially when my father-in-law was absent due to working night shifts.

The house was old, Victorian and in need of refurbishing. The basement was almost derelict and, apart from an old piano, there was an old brass bed down there with two walking sticks hanging at the foot which, I was told, belonged to my wife’s deceased (and much despised) grandmother. It was said the sticks would move mysteriously and be found in different places in the room. There was no electricity and most of the family avoided going down to that basement.

Above, on the ground floor, were two bedrooms where the whole family of five slept. Up on the next floor were the kitchen and living room, and this is where we sat and socialised and where the story begins.

It was about midnight and my two young brothers-in-law and sister-in-law had gone down to bed. I, my pregnant wife, her mother and an adorable five month old puppy [yet to be house trained] were the only ones up and still awake. After several drinks my mother-in-law FINALLY decided to go to bed and she suggested that, as it was late, my wife and I should bed down in the living room next door as it had a sofa-bed. This, we decided, would be better than walking home on a dark, cold, windy and rainy night.

We settled down and, a short while later after talking and sharing a fag, I realised I was feeling a bit peckish so I offered to make a cup of tea and a couple of sandwiches. I thought ‘It won’t take too long so I won’t bother to put anything on. It’s only next door and just my underpants will do, nobody is going to see me’.

I'd finished making the sarnies and was waiting for the kettle to boil. I stood waiting for what seemed like ages with a sarnie hanging from my gob and, as the dreaded feeling of being caught half naked, stuffing myself was beginning to overwhelm me, I suddenly heard the piano playing from down in the basement.

With shock, horror and more fear than I thought was possible I jumped, almost hitting the ceiling, and as I landed my bare foot stepped right on a 'parcel' left by the puppy earlier. With that the kitchen door flew open and my sister-in-law entered shouting ‘She’s come back to get us. The old cow is haunting us. Help, help.’

I was still traumatised and in deep fear as to who could be playing the piano as my mother in law and her two young sons came dashing into the room. All the family were now together and the piano was still playing. I, in my underpants and still with the sandwich hanging from my mouth, was hopping about with dog doings stuck to my foot and in between my toes, feeling - well the word ‘embarrassed’ comes not even close.

The piano stopped playing and the shouting lowered to a frightened discussion on who was going down to investigate the basement. It gradually dawned on me, as I busily cleaned myself up and put on some jeans, that I would be the obvious choice since the two boys were only about seven or eight years of age and their sister was about fourteen.

Also I felt a strong sense of responsibility which was encouraged by the sight of, puppy included, six pairs of fearful, widening eyes all trained desperately on me.

I had no choice - it would be me. Well although I was not thought of as a coward, and I could see the rest of the family had confidence in me, I can tell you I was very SCARED but I did my utmost not to let it show. As I started to take control , my first reluctant command was for everyone to look for a torch. Unfortunately for me, one was produced almost instantaneously ‘Bugger, you little git’ were the words that came to mind as my small brother- in-law handed it over.

As my wife and I started the slow descent down the stairs I was in front and she was behind with her hand on my shoulder, followed by the family egging me on - ‘Go on, go on’ ‘What’s happening?’ ‘Is it grandma?’ ‘Mum, I need a wee’.

My legs were actually shaking for the first time in my life and, as we reached the last few steps which led to the grandmother’s old bedroom, I had somehow managed to put my pregnant wife in front and myself an arm’s length behind her.

It was pitch black, besides the not-so-bright light from the torch and the stairs had, almost on cue, started to creak. All I could see was a small round dot of light and we were now at the point where the open door of the bedroom was coming into view. I urged my wife, once more, to keep going.

As I shone the torch into the room and the piano became just visible I could hardly believe what I was seeing and I had to ask my wife for confirmation. The piano’s lid was up and I could see blood dripping from the white keys onto the floor.

I was now at the point of fight or flight and it was only because of my ego and the voices of the family asking, repeatedly, ‘What is it?’ that I refrained from doing a runner.

My fears were only narrowly kept at bay by my own question - ‘What on Earth is going on here? This is what you expect from a horror movie, not a basement off the Kilburn High Road‘.

After another two or so minutes of being almost frozen to the spot I heard a really loud screech coming from the vicinity of the piano and I just about caught sight of a large feral cat crashing through the window, breaking a pane of glass, as it made its frantic escape out into the street.

Cowering beneath the piano was Sooty, the family’s aptly named pet cat, who was bleeding from his paws after his fight with the now departed wild cat. Their battle obviously having taken place on the keyboard.

Seeing this was a real relief to me as I often wonder what I would have believed, to this day, if I hadn’t seen the cats. I might have been writing this story as a real mystery tail.

reply to post by Henrykate


Good read, wish it was longer to take up more of my workday.

So did Sooty recover from his wounds? Can two battling felines play a tune?

I enjoyed this quite a bit, thanks for posting!

lol I loved it, absolutely awesome.
S&F from me

The whole time I was thinking, oh no pregnant wife on stairs, I’ve heard too many stories of people being pushed down stairs. The idea of her losing the baby made me sick to the stomach. I’m so glad that didn’t happen /phew.

love and harmony
Whateva

reply to post by Henrykate


The truth is sometimes a better story. Well told.

reply to post by TinkerHaus


Thanks for your feedback. Sooty's paws were fine after a day or two.

As far as tunes go, I didn't recognise it. Anyway, I always thought cats were more inclined to play their fiddles rather than the piano

reply to post by Henrykate


That was a great story and funny as h*** !!!

I almost feel like saying "pics or it didn't happen" but I won't !

S&F !!! That was Fun !