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Oh, excuse me. I 've just been draining a kidney.
You're Mr Parkway, I take it?
Er, Dr Parkway, yes.
You must be Mr Wilson?
Oh, call me Dick. Everyone does.
So have you ever been champing before?
Sorry?
Champing - camping in a church. That's what we call it.
Though it does have unfortunate connotations of someone
eating with their mouth full.
No, I haven't, actually.
My wife booked this as a Christmas present, but sadly, sh...
As I 'm sure you're aware, it costs a pretty penny to preserve
these old buildings, and champing is our biggest money-spinner.
We let them all in, every creed, faith, culture -
as long as they pay their overnight fees.
Speaking of which...?
Oh, yes, sorry. I only have a card, I 'm afraid.
I 've got my swiper.
As you see, I 've set up your bed here.
Some churches put a full-size Oueen Anne in the transept,
but speaking personally, I don't think it's in fitting.
I said to Canon Berryman, I said, "We're not an Airbnb."
" No, Dick", he said, "we're a Prayer C of E! "
85 and sharp as a blade.
Many's the time I 've seen him do a Wordle in two.
Ah, yes, um, I set up a little lounge for you here,
with some literature on the history of the place.
Fascinating. Did you know that in the i5th century...?
Uh, can i ask, um, do you spend the night here also,
or will you eventually leave?
Oh, I 'll soon be out of your hair, don't worry.
I have to tell you that we've never had a booking
on Christmas Eve before!
Oh, thank you.
Your wife will be joining you later, will she?
No, she passed away in the autumn.
I am so sorry.
So sorry - I 've charged you at a two person rate.
- I'll void it and start again. - No, no, no. No, please.
i just want to spend a peaceful night here alone
with my thoughts and memories.
Oh, I 'm sure you won't be alone.
Merry Christmas, Dr Parkway.
And God bless us, every one.
Hello?
Mr Wilson...
is that you?
Oh, my God, it's freezing!
I told you it would be.
It's a bloody church, what did you expect?
What did I expect on Christmas Eve night?
Oh, I don't know, a Radisson.
Hey, I told you, don't blame me.
- Holiday Inn, maybe. - Blame global warming.
Anyway, I asked that old bloke to try and get us some booze.
Champers for the champers. That should cheer you up a bit.
Hey, watch this.
Our lager which art in barrels, hallowed be thy ale.
Thy kegdom come, I will be drunk, at home, as in the tavern.
Give us this day our foamy head, and forgive us our spillages,
as we forgive those who spill against us.
Deliver us not into inebriation, for thine is the stout,
the bitter, and the lager,
forever and ever, barmen!
You're not funny, you know.
Course I am. Hey, do you want to see my little white balls. . .?
Oh, my Lord!
Not quite, I'm afraid. He arrives in the morning.
You nearly give us a bloody heart attack! Are you the vicar?
No, no, I'm Dr Parkway, jasper,
and I'm afraid I have exclusive use of this church till 1Oam tomorrow.
- Use?
I should explain my mother passed away earlier this year.
She's buried out in the graveyard.
I simply wanted to spend the night here in quiet contemplation.
Oh, well, we booked it on the website this morning.
That Dick, the man called Dick, he said he hadntt seen our email yet.
I'm Pierce. This is my wife, Posy.
Like the flowers.
Yeah, because when her mam got pregnant with her,
the first thing she said was 'Thanks a bunch.'
Ignore him, he's pathetic. I 'm sorry about your mother.
We were supposed to be going to Lapland yesterday,
only they rang up and said there wasn't any snow.
How unfortunate.
Yeah. They said we could still go and theytd put us up in a shed,
but we thought, well, if it's not an igloo, what's the point?
Well, I hate to disappoint you but as you can see,
there's only one bed set out.
Don't worry about that. We've come prepared.
Sleeping bags at the ready.
We'll just set up here beside you.
Who wants a brew?
Oh, sorry.
These biscuits are nice, Po. Do you want one?
I don't think they're for us, Pierce, they're like church wafers.
- What do you mean? - It's the Eucharist.
The body of Christ.
Oh, shit!
Sorry! They taste like rich teas, anyway.
The most boring of all biscuits.
Apart from them N ices which, ironically enough, are horrible.
I 'll go and see if there's anything else.
There's got to be a kitchen somewhere.
Yeah. Especially with all these lady vicars now.
Idiot.
So, are you a religious man, then, Jaz?
Not particularly, no.
it's the building itself I 'm most interested in.
Oh, right, youtre more like a history doctor, then,
Indiana Jones, Da Vinci Code stuff?
You could say that, yes.
''' Doctor, Doctor, I tve got a chip up my nose, a sausage in my left ear,
and a carrot in my right ear, what's the matter with me?''
The doctor says, ''Youtre not eating properly.''
Tough crowd.
Oh, my good godfathers!
- Who is it? - I don't know.
I just pulled back the curtain, and he were there.
I thought it was Paul Hollywood.
You wouldn't want him reaching out and giving you an handshake, would you?
It's St Nicholas.
- The original Santa Claus. - You mean the Coca Cola one?
Uh, a little before that, I believe.
Patron Saint and protector of children dating back
to around 3OO AD, possibly even earlier.
- What's his origin story? - It's not X-Men, Pierce!
Actually, St Nick was an "Avenger" in his own way.
Three small children were said to be lost one night,
after straying too far from their homes whilst playing in the woods.
As darkness fell, they came across an old building
belonging to a butcher.
He offered them food and shelter for the night, and
they eagerly accepted his invitation.
However, once inside, the butcher set upon the three boys,
slitting their throats one by one.
Bloody hell!
He then cut up the children's bodies
and laid the pieces in a salting tub,
preserving their flesh to sell as ham to the nearby villagers.
Seven years had passed when Nicholas, the Bishop of Myra,
was riding in the woods and came upon the house.
He demanded that the butcher open up his barrels of salt.
When he saw the contents, Nicholas performed a miracle,
restoring the three boys to life and sending them home
to their astonished parents.
Lucky for them.
The myth also explains why we now hang pickles
or gherkins as Christmas tree decorations.
Oh, we've got one of them! A big green one.
- Posy calls it the Grinchts co... - Pierce!
Yes, it's an unusual derivation, the pickling or preserving
of children's bodies in salt or vinegar. Mm.
- Did you bring any crisps? - I think we've got some cheese puffs.
Oh, right.
* O little town of Bethlehem
* How still we see thee thy
* Among the hills and daffodils
* Do-do- ba-da-do-do- ba... *
- Would you be quiet, please? - Sorry?
Would you please stop singing?
I'm trying to work.
Oh, yeah.
Sorry.
I 'm just getting in the mood.
I 'm looking for somewhere nice to hang my stocking...
How about round your neck?
Pardon? Uh, anywhere around the nave.
Have you not got one? I think I 've got a spare in here somewhere...
They're a bit laddered around the gusset,
but you could pop a tangerine in.
That's very kind.
Shall I just hang them on the end of his bed?
Yeah.
* O little town of Bethlehem
* How still we see thee thy... *
Is somebody there?
Hello?
Only me! Just wondered if you might like to join us
for a little tot of Bristol Cream, eh?
Christmas Eve.
The most magical night of the year.
I used to love it when was a kid. You still are a bloody kid !
Do you have any children?
No.
No, we don't.
Still, um. . . believe in Santa though, don't we?
Well, you know, this church has a unique link to St Nicholas,
hence the display.
Would you like to hear it? It does involve a ghost.
Oh, now youtre talking. Hey, Doc, pull up a pew!
I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you.
Oh, come on! A ghost story for Christmas!? It's perfect.
I don't believe in ghosts,
and I've no interest in made-up narratives about them.
I assure you, Doctor, the events I'm about to recount
are not made up. I know that...
for certain.
Well?
Seems like I don't have much choice, do I?!
Thank you.
The body of St Nicholas, like all the great saints,
was harvested for reliquaries and devotionals.
Sorry, you've lost me already.
Relics are the bones or body parts of venerated individuals, often
stolen from tombs and sold all around the world.
They used to be a big business. They still are.
What would you say if I were to tell you
that the jawbone of St Nicholas
is hidden in this very building?
Is it?
I can tell you that it has not yet been found,
but I have reason to believe that it resides here...somewhere.
And why do you believe that?
Because of what I saw with my own eyes,
five years ago on Christmas Eve.
- Here we go. - Hold my hand, Pierce.
I'd extinguished the last of the candles, and I was leaving
with just the light from my phone screen to see me out.
Why didn't you turn your torch on?
I didn't know it had one.
Carry on.
I was standing over there by the pulpit,
and I heard a noise by the Christmas tree.
I genuinely thought, "I 've really got to be careful here
"because I might end up locking someone up in the church
"and they might freeze to death."
We had that in the school where I clean.
A homeless man was living in the gym equipment cupboard,
sleeping in the vaulting box.
The deputy head had to coax him out with a boneless banquet from KFC,
- and the Sally Army came for him. - Have you quite finished?
Sorry.
I walked over to the Christmas tree...
and that's when I saw him...
peeping out from behind the branches.
A figure in a dark red cloak.
His head bowed.
I kept perfectly still...
but I wasn't expecting what I saw.
His head slowly lifted...up.
It was so...
sad.
An old man, with kind eyes,
but such pain behind them.
And below this tender, imploring face...
there was no bottom jaw.
Just a black lolling tongue,
dangling down into the space below.
It moaned and clacked,
then it started to come towards me.
That's when I ran. I ran and ran and didn't stop till I got home,
and I locked the door behind me.
The next day, Christmas Day...
when I came back...
there were footprints.
Black, filthy...
footprints all around the church.
I believe that his restless spirit roams around this site,
longing to be whole again,
and finally be at peace.
Right, I 'd better be off.
That was brilliant! I bet that shit you up, didntt it, Doc?!
- Now do you believe in ghosts? - Of course not.
We are pattern-finding creatures, and
we rationalise what we don't understand with ridiculous stories.
Now if you don't mind,
I'd like to spend the rest of the evening in my own company.
Is that sherry free?
- You all right, Po? - Yeah.
Are you thinking about Paisley?
I lit a candle for her.
That's nice.
Be 18 years next Christmas.
- I'll book Lapland again. - That'd be nice.
I didn't like Dick's story.
- Do you believe him? - No, course not.
Just his party piece. He'll have one for every season.
Be a giant rabbit at Easter, witch at Halloween.
What's summer?
Beach ghost.
It's just a bloke with trunks on
wandering about with a bright red face.
- A bottle of sunblock. - Yeah, probably.
- Why, did it spook you? - A little bit.
It's just...
that night, when I was pregnant and I had the accident...
something happened that I never told you.
That night...
You saw a ghost?
Not really. I was just mopping the floor in reception
when I saw my mother walk past.
I thought, "Well, what's she doing here?"
I waved at her, but she didn't say anything,
just stared at me.
Then, suddenly, she put her hand up on the glass and started to cry.
Mascara running down her face in black lines.
Then she turned and went off again.
I went to look for her, but there was no-one there.
That's weird.
Anyway, as I was walking home, I tried phoning her,
and it was as I was dialling
that the motorbike came off the road and...
Bloody hell.
A few days later, when I was in the hospital, she came to visit me,
and she told me that that night,
the night of the accident, she'd had an awful feeling
something bad was going to happen to me.
I didn't tell her what I 'd seen,
then as she was leaving,
she put her hand up on the glass,
and started to cry.
Mascara running down her face in black lines.
My God.
It wasn't a ghost.
It was a warning.
What's that?
Must be one of them new-fangled machines
that let you talk to each other through the air. Come on.
Don't leave me!
Pierce!
Don't answer it.
Hello?
It's for you.
Yes?
Boo!
You bloody idiot, what are you playing at?! Who was it?
No-one, they hung up. Must have been a wrong number.
Come on, itts freezing in here.
Hey, we forgot to check our stockings. Let's see if Santa's been.
What's on your list?
Socks and undies, obviously. Yeah, obviously.
Handkerchiefs with a P on which'll never come out of the packet.
Selection box, they're not as big as they used to be.
All right, Peter Kay! It's true! What about you?
Um, bath salts?
Um, chocolates full of some disgusting liqueur.
And a shit scented candle.
- Shit-scented? How do they do that? - You don't want to know.
Thought they'd never fucking leave.
Ho, ho...
ho.
- Dr Parkway! - Shit!
Dr Parkway, are you there?
I had a phone call from Pierce.
He says he saw something rather disturbing.
Dr Parkway?
Hello?
Doctor? Doctor?
I'm ever so sorry if I frightened you with what I said earlier.
It was just a story.
There is no ghost here, I can assure you of that!
Ghosts aren't real!
It wasn't a ghost.
Hello?
It was a warning.
Is somebody there?
Hello?
Oh, no!
Well, I never!
Merry Christmas.
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