Tom Slemen's Haunted Wirral: The Silver Man of Barnston

FOLLOWING on from last week's foray into Wirral's many UFO mysteries, I have been looking into more close encounters with strange craft and their occupants, who do not seem to be of this world.

Take the following case for example.

In August 1977, a couple in their late forties named Terry and Tina left their home in Barnston and set out in Terry's beloved Daimler Sovereign for Rock Ferry, where Tina's mum lived.

At the wheel of the car was Tina, trying to brush up her driving skills because Terry had pressured her into looking for a job and believed she would have better prospects if she was mobile.

He even had his eye on an old Austin A40 for Tina, and her birthday was coming up in a few weeks’ time. Tina hadn’t been behind the wheel for 12 years.

'Watch your speed Tina,' said Terry, eyeing the speedometer.

'Am I speeding?' Tina asked, nervously, and glanced in the mirrors in case the police were about.

The road was clear, except for a motorcyclist gaining on the Daimler from behind. He was getting so close, Tina could see his bright red 'pudding bowl' crash helmet.

'No, you're slowing,' replied Terry, 'and if there’s one thing worse than speeding its crawling along at 20 miles per hour; step on it, Tina.'

The motorcyclist – and his female pinion passenger – drew alongside the car and the biker gave Tina and Terry the V sign with his gloved hand, and as Terry’s face turned a shade of salmon pink with rage, the motorcyclist performed a wheelie as his female passenger clung to him with her red long red hair flowing from under her silver helmet.

Terry had never seen a wheelie like this; the bike stayed on its rear wheel for a dangerous amount of time as it accelerated off.

'Skylarking like that can cause accidents!' roared Terry and he sounded the car horn repeatedly.

Tina jumped with nerves and told him to stop in case he startled the biker and caused him to crash. Within seconds the motorbike was back on two wheels and zoomed off until it became a distant spot down the shimmering hot ribbon of tarmac.

Then, as Terry continued his backseat driver routine, telling Tina to stop veering over the lane dividers, his wife said 'Terry - look!'

The motorbike was coming back again. It was definitely the rider who had made the rude gesture as Tina could see that red pudding bowl helmet and the female pinion passenger.

Terry sounded the horn as the motorbike flashed past him. 'Did you see the speed he was going! Bloody Evel Knievel!'

A couple of minutes later, Tina said there was someone in the dead centre of the road near the junction where she was preparing to make a turn. In the bright sunlight, she and Terry could see that the tall man in their way had on a silver suit and what they originally took to be a motorcycle crash helmet.

'Must be Evel Knievel’s mate', quipped Terry, and Tina slowed down and asked what she should do. Terry beeped the car horn and said, 'Drive towards him, he’ll soon get out the way!'

'Say he doesn’t, I might injure him, Terry,' voiced a worried Tina.

'Tina, this could be an ambush for all we know,' speculated Terry, 'just drive at him or I will.'

Tina drove – slowly – at the figure, and the bright sunlight reflecting from the helmeted man’s silver suit dazzled Tina and she could see after images everywhere; it was giving her a migraine.

Terry wound the nearside window down and leaned sideways, popping his head out. ‘Oi! Get out of the way or I’ll drive over you, mush!’ he yelled.

The weird figure stood there, stone-still, and then the Daimler hit something, and Terry – who, unlike his wife, was not wearing a seatbelt – was thrown forward.

His forehead whacked the windscreen and for a moment he thought he'd broke the glass. Tina let out a shriek and asked if he was okay.

'You could have reminded me to put my seatbelt on,' Terry replied, his hand on his forehead, 'you’re so selfish sometimes Tina.'

‘What did we hit?’ Tina asked. ‘He must have put something across the road.'

'I’ll get out and give him such a piece of my mind now,' said Terry, 'and I don’t care how tall he is.'

'Terry – he's coming towards us, and I don’t think he’s human,' Tina told her husband, watching the figure walk with what seemed to be a peculiar mechanical gait.

Terry could see large round black lenses behind the visor of the helmet the 'man' had on, and sensing there was something very "off" about the figure, he barked at Tina, 'Reverse the car!' but Tina panicked and fumbled with the handbrake and then the gear lever, and Terry put the car into reverse and Tina stepped on the accelerator – but the car didn't move.

The figure walked around the vehicle, then leaned forward and looked in at Terry with its huge helmeted head protruding through the wound-down nearside window.

Tina let out a scream as Terry lunged away from the silver chrome head and almost fell back onto his wife’s lap.

Terry then felt the face of the sinister entity radiate warmth, and in an instant his forehead felt numb and he became calm. Tina also felt unaccountably calm, despite what was happening.

The figure then straightened up outside the vehicle, walked away, and it turned right, heading towards the road where Tina had been meaning to drive down before this bizarre incident unfolded.

'What the hell was that thing?' asked Terry, and then Tina screamed as the car flew backwards as the engine came to life.

Her foot hit the brake and Terry took the lever from reverse. He told Tina to get out and swapped places.

He drove the Daimler to the corner and looked down the road where the silvery humanoid had gone – and saw an oval craft with a mirrored surface, positioned so half of it was covering the right lane and the rest of it was protruding into a grassy area.

The craft was about forty feet across and 25 feet in height.

'What is it?' Tina asked, and at that moment the craft lifted upwards, knocking overhanging tree branches out of the way, and it continued going silently upwards into the clear blue August sky.

'Maybe that’s what that motorcyclist saw,' suggested Terry, his eyes thinning as he lost sight of the UFO in the blue void above.

'Of course,' said Tina, 'and it probably scared the life out of him. That’s why he turned around.'

Something strange happened in the six months after that encounter; Tina’s doctor told her she was no longer menopausal, and asked her if she had gone private for HRT treatment – and Tina said she hadn’t.

'Well then you have been misdiagnosed – you're not going through the change; I’ve never seen anything like this.' 

And Tina never went through the change until her sixties. She believes it was all down to that close encounter ...

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