Westfield: A Collection of Notes #4 -Wanderer

I recently went for a week long stay at a isolated Yorkshire country park with my family. Though it was meant for relaxation for me and the rest of my family, not everything that happened that week left me feeling relaxed. For previous notes, click here.

Day 4, June 2nd, 23:25

Yesterday was mainly a slow one. After a slow start, I got to work at 1pm, and I didn’t retire until 10:30 the following evening, except for the hour I gave myself to check out the tearoom next door, The Spotted Duck –  My overall review:

  • Quaint & cute
  • Expensive yet good quality food disclosure
  • Catering staff who looked at the Lancashire lad as if he had three heads (which confused me at first, but upon further thought, I do recall having my Disclosure jumper on at the time which can unnerve a fair few of those unfamiliar.)
  • Near me sat a woman planning her the catering services of her wedding there so that’s a good sign.
  • 8/10 – You lose a point for saying your ‘O’s wrong – It’s not potatuhrs, or tomatuhrs. C’mon Yorkshire, have some class. 

So I enjoyed a whole 8 and a half hours of work yesterday (call it 8 for tea and biscuit breaks), and so I felt thusly deserving of something to relax me. Luckily, our humble abode comes fitted with its own hot tub, so there wasn’t much indecision in that choice. And so, with everyone now in their houses, I had the entire tub and courtyard to myself. With some calm music (that wasn’t Chopin), I floated contently in the bubbles, my skin virtually melting in bliss as my head rested in the chilly air of the night. The hot tub is located in the corner of the courtyard, directly in front of one of the lodges; the residents of which I saw going to and from the kitchen a few times.
For those who don’t know, I have an odd fear of sharks. It’s not odd in the sense that it stops me from going into the sea, which I will do pleasantly if I wanted; it’s odd in the
sense that it makes me hesitant of entering baths, swimming pools or any isolated bodysharkpool# of water that people and things look relatively larger in. I have no explanations except for one that my psychology teacher cleared up for me, which is that I used to play with a toy shark in the bath as a child and so associate sharks with baths etc. However, before realising this, I’ve tried in the past to get over this stupid fear and determine my exact thoughts whilst in the situation, and what I remember thinking is that, ‘I’m the biggest thing in this body of water, and I don’t like big things in water.’ 

That’s right, my fear isn’t just limited to sharks – anything that is remotely large and near water makes me uncomfortable; blue whales, those inflatable party things…urgh.

Anyway, before this turns into a therapy session, it didn’t take long for my mind  to dive into the abyss of the irrational, and I quickly began thinking thoughts like, ‘You can’t see the bottom of the hot tub, anything could be down there’ and ‘What if something grabs you?’. These haunting thoughts paired with the dead silence of the night that somehow suited the empty courtyard, promptly assured a swift exit – I entered the hot tub and 10:40. I was out and dry by 11:00.

I mention all of these details as they are my only alibi for the strange accusation that was made today.

As usual, I worked until the latter half the evening, and was just packing everything up when my Dad came in. He grabbed a drink from the fridge, we chatted for a little bit, and as he was about to leave he casually said, ‘Did you enjoy your hot tub session until 1 in the morning?’ Laughing, I agreed and stated that it wasn’t until 1am – only 11 o’clock. My initial thoughts were that he had heard me whilst in bed and was being intentionally emphatic. However, after hearing that I got out at 11, he told me that I was seen walking around the courtyard at 12:30. Initially I denied this, assuring him that I was in bed by 11. We both brushed off the matter, and he was about to leave when he stopped at the door and turned around. I think the same, weird concept clicked in our heads at the same time, because as he turned around and looked at me,  we both started laughing. It wasn’t a laugh of humour though, it was more of a ‘how weird, I hope you’re lying or else I have no other explanation’ sort of laugh. He then left and slammed the door shut, leaving me alone with the silence and even more questions.

It’s now 12 o’clock and I can’t sleep. For the fear, the rush, of unwanted company. The guest that wanders the courtyard and my mind.




2 thoughts on “Westfield: A Collection of Notes #4 -Wanderer

  1. Sounds like you had a chilling week. That fear of things in the water is common, I hear. I don’t experience it much myself, but there’s always that voice in my head that reminds me how scary it’d be to feel something brush up against my leg. And the thing with that person in the courtyard? Hell, I’d be too stressed to sleep, too.

    Liked by 1 person

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