A close shave.

There used to be a metal bridge that spanned the railway lines a few hundred yards from what once was Bell Vue station in Gorton, its long gone and so has the station. On one side of the bridge there was a dirt track that ran from Hyde road to a stone bridge near sacred heart church. On the other side of the bridge was a large croft where people used to dump rubbish, it was just across the road from Sunny brow park, where we used to play as kids.

One day a friend and I had crossed the bridge on our way to the park, we must have been about fourteen at the time, I cant remember exactly when it was but certainly early sixties. For some reason we decided to explore the railway embankment, there was a gap between the bridge and the fence which made it easy to get to the lines, dangerous I know but young men are stupid and we were no exception. We spent about an hour watching nails and pennies we had carefully placed on the lines being flattened by the wheels of trains, but eventually got bored with this and made our way back through the gap in the fence intending to meet our pals in the park.

As we came through the fence a man came out from under the bridge steps and grabbed us both by the shoulder, he was dressed strangely in that he wore a suit but had a black peaked cap with a British railway badge. He informed us that he was a railway policeman and that we were in serious trouble for trespassing on railway property. We said we were sorry of course (didn’t mean a word of it) and that we wouldn’t do it again. What he said next made my blood run cold, “I’m going to arrest you and put you in gaol, unless you come into the bushes with me and do exactly as I tell you” at these words my friend shouted “run” and bolted in the direction of the park.

I stood there for what seemed like ages with my mouth open, I was paralysed by what this man had said. Then my friend who had stopped running turned back to me and screamed at the top of his voice “RUN” this galvanised me into action and I did run, like the bleeding wind. Of course we made it safely to the park, but swore each other to an oath that we would never tell anybody about this, well we couldn’t really we would have incriminated ourselves. It occurred to me that I had seen this man before, in fact I had seen him several times, usually sat astride a motionless motorbike outside the chemical works which was behind my parents house and where it turned out he worked.

Some time after this event I saw the man again, this time in Sivoris café on Hyde road. Café’s were a big thing in those days; young people spent a lot of time in them. He didn’t recognise me and if he did he hid the fact well. He was sat in a corner with a cup of coffee and a sullen look on his face just staring at people, he didn’t blink, he just stared. I could never forgot this face, the next time I saw it, it was staring out at me from the front page of a newspaper, the hair was different, but the look was just the same, It was Ian Brady.