"What a night," Gordon groaned, as he sat down at the breakfast table with Ahmed and Barry. "I've never endured hell such as this. You'd get better treatment in prison than this hotel!"
"Fancy a ghost choosing to haunt your room," Barry chuckled. "Not sure who I should feel more sorry for - you or the ghost!"
"It's not funny Barry! I was almost bloody shitting myself. It was terrifying!" Gordon snapped back.
"Aye, the sight of you in your y-fronts is enough to terrify anything!"
"That must be why it never followed you into our room," Ahmed interrupted, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
Presently, Jenna and Reverend Morris entered the dining room. "Morning boys! Ooh, so you saw the ghost too? Simon and I saw him...the headless preacher!"
"Yes, he just appeared in our room when we were er..." Reverend Morris began, and then he started to blush.
"Unpacking our bags," Jenna continued. "There he was, just standing by the side of the bed. I was so scared!" She added, lying of course.
"We didn't see any ghost, but the washbasin in our room doesn't work," Josh said. "The water won't come out. Just black stuff!"
"Same here," Gordon replied. "I got a sink full of soil!"
"According to an old bloke I met in the lounge, it's not soil at all, but gunpowder." Norman said, placing a plate loaded with what looked like inedible food on the table.
"Gunpowder? That's bollocks," Barry laughed. "You're not going to eat any of that are you? I'd say there's more toxic waste on your plate than in Chernobyl."
"Hmm," Norman poked at the carcinogenic-looking sausages, which were virtually cremated. The bacon, if one could call it that, was not so much swimming in oil but drowned in it. The scrambled egg looked worse.
"Don't eat any of that scrambled egg," Gordon said. "Apart from looking like dog puke, it tastes like it too."
"Thanks," Norman grimaced, pushing the plate away. "Suddenly I've lost my appetite. I think...I'll skip breakfast and buy something to eat later.
Reverend Morris looked at Jenna and shook his head. "Well, maybe the trip to the museum will be more...enjoyable?"
She smiled back and squeezed his thigh under the table. "I'm sure it will."
The small group boarded the minibus, ready for the short journey into the centre of Epworth.
"What's this place we're going to?" Jenna asked, as Reverend Morris checked his smartphone.
"Well unfortunately, the Old Rectory, which is the birthplace of John and Charles Wesley, is currently closed for the winter season. It reopens in April."
A chorus of groans echoed through the bus.
Gordon rolled his eyes. "Oh this just gets better, Vicar. What travel agent offers holidays to see a museum which is closed until April, in January?"
"Oh Simon, this is so disappointing. I really wanted to see the birthplace of the Wesleys!" Jenna sighed.
"I know, I know. I'm disappointed too. As a compromise, there is another museum a few miles away, called Epworth Fields Museum. It's small, but there are some great 17th and 18th century exhibits there, so that's where we're heading."
"I'd have more fun wandering round Tesco," Gordon muttered to Barry."
"I'd have more fun with the vicar's wife," Barry replied.
"Oho! You've changed your tune. What happened to 'dream on, she's way too old for you?' You're older than I am!"
"Yes well...that was before." Barry paused.
"Before what?"
Barry took a deep breath. "Look, if I tell you, promise me you won't say anything?"
"I'm all ears," Gordon said. "And relax, your secret's safe with me."
Barry started whispering and told his cousin about the fateful gloryhole encounter.
Epworth Fields Museum was a three-storey Georgian building would never rival the British Museum or the Tower of London in terms of interesting exhibits, but it was better than nothing. An added bonus was that entry was free.
After looking round some of the rooms, the group split up and began doing their own thing. Reverend Morris was engaged in a long conversation with a member of staff, who was also a vicar. Feeling bored, Jenna wandered off. She wondered where Gordon and the others had gone. Horniness was gnawing at her again. She headed towards the south end of the second floor. At the end of the long corridor, she pushed through a heavy door and stepped onto a landing. She descended the stairs, her footsteps echoing off the painted walls. The sound was so hollow and cold that she might have been in a vast pyramid or some other ancient structure, alone but for the companionship of unseen spirits.
Being a cold Tuesday morning in January, the museum was severely lacking in visitors. The place had an abandoned air, and she was suddenly aware that she was alone on this floor. As she reached for the handle of the door that led to the first-floor corridor, she thought she heard someone whisper her name. Jenna went through the door and found that the lower corridor was carpeted in the same hideous orange nylon as was the upper one. The decorator had a clown's taste for bright colours. It made her squint.
"Pretty sure this isn't authentic 18th century," she said to herself. A display board caught her eye. It was all about John and Charles Wesley. She recognised their portraits immediately.
"It was an honour to meet you last year John," Jenna said, smiling at the portrait of the white-haired Methodist minister. "Wish I could've met your brother as well...I wonder if his cock is as big as yours?" She pulled out her smartphone and took a photo of the images.
Suddenly, she heard the door at the head of the stairs open with a faint but protracted squeak of hinges. She stepped back, expecting someone to descend from the second floor, but no-one appeared.
"Huh, weird," she said. Without thinking, Jenna leaned against the wood-panelled wall, which was actually a concealed doorway. It suddenly opened, and Jenna screamed as she went tumbling into a dark passage. The wood-panelled door slid shut behind her, and nothing but her smartphone remained on the floor of the corridor...
Jenna staggered to her feet. "Where am I? Looks like there's some sort of secret room here...oh wow, I can't see a thing in here!"
A light clicked on. Jenna assumed it was a motion-activated sensor. The small room was crammed with furniture that was covered in dust sheets. Old exhibits that the museum no longer wished to display, damaged stuff, spare panels. It reminded her of the storeroom in the church hall.
"I'd better get out of here, there might be CCTV or something." The last thing she wanted was to be accused of stealing.
"Oh I assure you, we are completely unobserved," a male voice uttered.
"Who said that?" Jenna spun round. She appeared to be alone in the room. Was there a hidden microphone somewhere?"
"Over here," the voice said again. "In the corner."
Jenna cautiously walked around the shrouded furniture. "Where are you?"
"Right in front of you my dear!"
Jenna looked straight ahead. A six-foot tall bronze statue of a man was standing in the corner. As she looked closely, she realised that it was a statue of Charles Wesley.
"Ohh a statue of Charles!" She exclaimed, reaching out to touch it, and the statue's mouth relaxed into a smile.
