"THE RED BALLET SHOES" - Sophie Dunhill the Beautiful Prima Ballerina From Chiswick in 1920s London England, was knocked down by a Tram and killed instantly - She never got to wear the red ballet shoes made by Patrick Cheaney, but her ghost wears them once a year! A short ghost story by Barbara O'Sullivan, author of "The King's Quinto: The Life and Times of Sir Walter Raleigh (1552-1618) ISBN: 1413708285

The following is a short story written by Barbara O'Sulivan to entertain you, being the author of the King's Quinto: The Life and Times of Sir Walter Raleigh (1552-1618)ISBN 1413708285.

September 21, 2004 -- "CHEANEY" THE SHOEMAKER, June 1920

The beautiful Prima Ballerina stood in a famous shoemakers shop named Cheaney in Old Bond Street in the West End of London on the 18th June, 1920, and she requested that a pair of red ballet shoes be made for her, from the finest leather and make sure they are of Kid leather she said sternly, because I dont want my ballet shoes to wear out in my lifetime, as I have so many years of dancing ahead of me, on the stage.

The shoemaker nodded his head in agreement and took the measurements of her small feet. The shoes will be ready for collection in one week he told her.

I want my red ballet shoes to be soft on my feet, with strong points, so that I can dance on my toes for hours. Make sure also, that you use double stitching. She added.

Where will you be dancing? enquired the shoemaker, softly, as if to hide the fact that he was very interested in this young lady. When he looked into her brown eyes, he saw a great determination, and the tilt of her head told him that she was very proud to be a ballerina. He had noticed her looking in the shop window before she entered the premises, and he was glad that he had changed the display a few days before, to include the 3 pairs of colourful dancers shoes, which hung from a screen, suspended by their long, thin, silk ribbons. He had made the shoes himself, although ballet shoes were not ordered frequently, because not many Ballerinas knew that this little shop existed. His father had specialized more in Mens shoes for the City gentleman.

I will be dancing in an adaptation of William Shakespeares Romeo and Juliet with the Royal Ballet Company, at Sadlers Wells, on Saturday 19th September at 7:30 p.m. she replied proudly.

Then you have plenty of time to practice in your role; almost three months to be precise.

I have been practicing the role for six months already, and what I dont know now, I shall never know! she said as she shook her head, and as she did so, her long, dark hair caught the light and her eyes lit up as she continued, This is the moment I have been waiting for! I love all of Shakespeares plays, and I studied some of them at school, but Romeo and Juliet is the greatest romance ever written, in my opinion.

I might come along and watch you then, who will you be dancing as?

I will take the part of Juliet! And if you bring me flowers, I would like white lilies! And with this she held her head a little higher, turned and walked out of the door.

The shoemaker watched her walk away, and he thought that she was beautiful; so slightly built, with a lovely straight back, and quite tall for a woman. She was almost as tall as him. She looked about 20 years old and he was 27. The little shop he worked in belonged to his father, but he himself had been a fully trained shoemaker for years now, and soon the shop would belong to him. His father had only a few months to go until retirement, and had asked him to introduce some new styles of shoes. This he had begun to do, and had decided that ladies shoes were nicer to create than mens shoes and dancers shoes were the best of all, being so light, and so he had begun to create the ballet shoes.

He walked over to the window display and took down a pair of white ballet shoes, and examined them carefully. They had been made of soft leather, but not Kid leather, and therefore, perhaps he had made a mistake. If dancers wanted Kid leather then they would have it. He sat down in a chair near the window and held the shoe in his hand for a long time. He visualized the shoes he was going to make for the ballerina and thought how much joy they would bring her whilst dancing.

A week passed by but the Ballerina never returned to collect her shoes and the shoemaker waited day after day, and walked over to the window, and then to the door, and looked out into the street, left and right, quite frequently to see if she was approaching his shop. But the Ballerina never appeared in his shop again.

What became of the Ballerina? Why did she not return? He thought to himself that perhaps she had found herself another pair of shoes? The Shoemaker could nothing except wait. He waited and waited as June turned in July and July into August. Finally the 19th September arrived and it was time to go to see the Ballet she had spoken of.

The shoemaker, having resolved to see her again, dressed in his best suit, with a shirt and tie, and wearing a hat, which he rarely did, he made a special trip to Sadlers Wells on the evening of the 19th September, and took with him a bunch of white lilies for the beautiful Ballerina, which he left with the concierge. He bought himself a ticket, and entered that wonderful building, to watch the ballet. As the curtain went up, and he had seated himself in the front row so that he could recognise her immediately, he waited patiently for her to appear. The ballet was superb and he would have enjoyed himself tremendously, but he could not see her anywhere on the stage, and she certainly was not dancing the part of Juliet. As he sat watching the ballet, he felt as though a light kiss had been placed on his cheek and he looked up at the ceiling and noticed that the chandelier above him was moving slightly. After the ballet had ended, he resolved to investigate further into the whereabouts of the missing ballerina, and upon enquiry of an elderly lady backstage, and not knowing the name of the ballerina, he was told that she had passed away and this had been caused by a terrible tragedy when she went into the West End of London to buy a pair of ballet shoes. She was knocked down by a tram and killed instantly in Piccadilly! the elderly lady stated, and she brought out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. She was so beautiful and so talented. Why is it that God takes away the gifted before their time? The elderly lady walked away from him and started to walk up a staircase. The shoemaker was visibly shaken.

Wait! He cried, and ran after her, What was her name?

Her name was Sophie Dunhill! She replied, and she is dead and buried. She would have gone on to become a famous ballerina, and this evening was to have been her great chance.

This is all such a shock to me, because I made her red ballet shoes for her, and when she never returned to the shop to collect them, I could not understand it. I came along to this performance tonight so that I could find her.

The old lady replied: She always said that she wanted to be buried with her ballet shoes when she was an old lady, but I told her not to be so morbid because she was so young and beautiful. She used to laugh at me and told me I was being silly when I said that if she talked about dying, it might happen sooner than she expected.

She was indeed a beautiful young woman he stated, Can you tell me where she is buried? I would like to take her some flowers and say a prayer for her.

She is buried in the small cemetery in Chiswick; She lived above a little wine bar in Chiswick, at number 28a Chiswick High Road, it was called Macbeths! "Oh!" cried the old lady, "I told her not to tempt fate by going to live there, but she would not listen. And now she is dead!" She dabbed at her eyes and then said "If you want to find her grave, go to Turnham Green station and turn right, walk a little way, and you will see a white church. She is laid to rest in that graveyard. and then she began to walk away.

Does she have any family? Could I deliver the shoes to her mother or father? Her brother or sister? Asked Mr Cheaney sadly.

Bring the shoes to me! I cannot give you her parents address! They are grief stricken at losing their daughter. Bring the shoes to me tomorrow morning; there is something I must do with them. Tell me how much I owe you said the old lady in reply.

I will bring them here as you request. There will be no charge. answered Mr. Cheaney and then he turned and left the old lady and made his way outside.

The shoemaker took himself home, but he could not stop thinking about Sophie Dunhill and as he sat in his chair in the living room, the door behind him flew open. He was very disconcerted and left the room quickly because he thought that the place was suddenly haunted after so many peaceful years of working here. Once he had settled into his bed, he found that he could not sleep. He thought he could hear breathing in the corner of his bedroom and he held his breath to see if it was his own breathing that he could hear. All was silent around him, and he lay there tossing and turning for hours. It was five in the morning before he finally fell asleep and no sooner had he nodded off, than he thought he heard a noise downstairs. He went to investigate and thought he heard soft breathing again in the corner near the window. He approached the window and sat down in the chair. I have come for my shoes! a voice whispered from behind the screen in the window. Patrick shook with fear as he replied to the whispering voice Is it you Sophie?

Yes! I have come for my shoes. Bring them to me. Whispered the voice.

Patrick resolved to take the next day off work, and to buy white lilies again for Sophie, in the morning. After he had delivered the ballet shoes to the old lady, he would take a tram to Chiswick, find the cemetery, and lay the lilies there.

The next morning he delivered the shoes to the old lady as requested, took one white lilly from the bunch of lillies he held in his hand, handed it to the old lady and then made his way to the cemetery in Chiswick. He walked round and round in a determined way, until he had found Sophie's headstone, which was not elaborate, but it held a beautiful inscription: The Mirror of my Youth will never lie; Where I see my own reflection in my sleep; My sleep is so much longer than intended, because I realise I will not wake; My face will never grow old while Im sleeping; As my spirit is entrusted to Gods keeping ..." which were words from a poem by Barbara O'Sullivan entitled "The Mirror of My Youth". He wept as he said a prayer for Sophie and then left the graveyard.

On his way home on the tram, he fell asleep, and suddenly a cold chill came over him, and he awoke with a start, as he thought that someone had touched his face. He looked over his shoulder and saw a young man sitting behind him. Did you just touch me? My face I mean! he asked of the young man.

No mate. Im on my way home for my dinner. What do I want to touch you for? Are you mad? he shouted, and with that the young man got up and left the tram, and all around him the shoemaker felt that people were looking at him strangely.

Meanwhile, during the evening, when all was quiet, the old lady at Sadlers Wells had busied herself, after receiving the red shoes, in looking at them periodically throughout the day. She carried them with her everywhere she went, until eventually she proceeded to take them to Sophies old dressing room. The room had been left exactly as Sophie had arranged it, (as a mark of respect to her), and it would be left in this way until after the Ballet of Romeo and Juliet had finished running at Sadlers Wells. The old lady took great care in hanging the shoes from their ribbons, on a peg next to the red, gold and white dress that Sophie was to have worn when she danced the part of Juliet. As the old lady closed the door she had heard a noise. It sounded like a chair moving. She opened the door again but there was no-one there. She closed the door, (after turning off the light), and made her way to the staircase. As she looked back at the door on her way down the stairs, she saw that the light had been turned on again because it was shining from underneath the door, even though she had turned it off! A cold shiver ran up and down her spine, but she was too afraid to go back into the room, so instead she went in search of the caretaker. She found him reading the evening paper in the boiler room.

Joseph, could you accompany me to the late Sophie Dunhills dressing room? I think there is an intruder in there. She then went on to relate to him, what had just happened.

Joseph listened intently as he smoked his pipe, and then sighed. If you ask my opinion, this place is haunted. Why just this afternoon, I put my pipe down on that table and went to make a cup of tea. When I came back the pipe was nowhere to be found. Do you know where I found it? Tucked into my coat pocket and I know I didnt put it there. replied Joseph.

Will you come with me Joseph? I need to check on Sophies room. Let us have no more talk about ghosts, it frightens me! Who do you think is haunting this place then? Tell me that?

Strange things have happened here in the weeks since Sophie Dunhill passed away. Dont you think so? Joseph then stood, up, and said Dont you think it is cold in here? This is the boiler room, but I have been freezing cold all afternoon! Some people are more sensitive to spirits than others, thats what I say. said Joseph.

They both left the boiler room and went back up the staircase that led to Sophies room. The light was out this time. The old lady noticed it at once and she shivered again.

I am afraid to go in there, Joseph!

Dont be silly Agnes, ghosts cant hurt you. May be she has turned into a poltergeist! You say you heard a chair moving. Then there was that business with my pipe

They approached the door, and Joseph opened it carefully and slowly. At first sight the room appeared to be in order, but upon looking around, Agnes noticed first, that the ballet shoes were not hanging from the peg on the wall, but where placed near the chair, as though someone were about to sit down and put them on. Also, the petals from one of the white lillies were spread around the shoes. Agnes cried out in fright and ran from the room.

The caretaker sat himself down in the chair and picked up the red shoes. He carefully wrapped the ribbons around the shoes and then stood up. He had to do something about this he thought. He left the room and found Agnes standing outside shivering and crying.

Its her! I know it is! She is pleased with her new shoes and wants to wear them. Cried the old lady.

Now Agnes, dont be silly! If you ask me, her room should never have been left as a shrine to her. She needs to rest in peace now and I must take these shoes back where they came from. Said Joseph.

Joseph identified the name of the shoemaker "Cheaney" in the shoes and took a tram to the shop in Old Bond Street, even though it was late at night. He knocked on the door and had no trouble being heard, because the shoemaker was sitting in a chair near the window, holding the white ballet shoe in his hand as he had done on many occasions. He felt very sad when he heard that Joseph had brought the ballet shoes back. When he listened to the story related to him by Joseph, he knew what he must do.

I think you did the best thing in bringing the ballet shoes back to me. This tragedy has touched me deeply. She is in my thoughts night and day. Said the shoemaker. I will always remember how beautiful she was.

Yes and dont forget how talented she was as well! If only you had seen her dance! She was as light as a feather on her feet. What are you going to do with the shoes? Burn them? That is what I would do with them. Said Joseph.

Oh no, that is not what Sophie Dunhill would have wanted. I will think of something in the morning replied the shoemaker.

I will get back to where I came from then, and leave you to it. Good night to you Sir! What is your name by the way? I never did ask you? Agnes didnt know either! Enquired Joseph.

My name is Patrick. Patrick Cheaney.

Do you mean that your father owns the Cheaney shoe shop that has been here since 1886? Well I never! Sophie would have been impressed. With that, Joseph turned and left the shoe shop and Patrick never saw or heard from him again.

What became of the red ballet shoes? Patrick took them to the graveyard in Chiswick and hung them from the gravestone of Sophie Dunhill. Neither Sadlers Wells, nor the shoemakers premises were haunted by the ghost of Sophie Dunhill again. One strange fact remains, and that is, that people have often say that the churchyard in Chiswick is haunted, and that on the 19th September every year, at 7:30 p.m., the ghost of a young lady appears, and dances throughout the night in her red ballet shoes, amongst the gravestones.

Barbara O'Sullivan

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