
A Ghost for Christmas 1.2 - The Woodman's Enigma
Loading summary
Narrator
The woodman's enigma by gary kilworth. They played a game called Enigmas. I've got one, said Colin. Romeo and Juliet are lying dead on the floor in a pool of liquid. They're surrounded by broken glass. What's happened? His 10 year old sister, Jill, snorted. Oh, Colin, that's an old one.
Giles Foster
Romeo and Juliet are goldfish.
Narrator
The liquid is water. The bits of glass are there. Smashed goldfish bowl. She flicked her blonde ponytail. Think of a new one. Colin, fair haired and tall for 13 years of age, sighed and stared out of the train window at the falling snow. I can't, he said. I've run out of ideas. We really need the computer for a good enigma. I don't expect Uncle Giles will have one. He's 60 something. It was dark when the train at last pulled into Rochford Station, and so quiet they could hear themselves walking along the deserted platform, even though their footsteps were deadened by the snow. Christmas was only seven days away and and here they were in a strange country place with no real celebration to look forward to. Both of them felt pretty miserable, but they knew they'd have to make the best of a bad job. A taxi arrived. Giles Foster's place, said the driver. Expecting him to meet you? Yes, we were, said Jill. But our Uncle Giles must have got the times of the trains wrong. Taxi driver frowned. That doesn't sound like Giles Foster to me. Colin shrugged. Anyone can make a mistake, I suppose, he said. We've never actually met Uncle Giles. Not so as we can remember. Our mum's sick in hospital. She's got to have an operation. So she wrote to Uncle Giles and he said he'd have us for Christmas. What about your dad? Asked the driver. Dad's not with us, answered Colin, not wanting to go on. The car suddenly pulled off the main road and went jolting along a mud track. It pulled up outside a wooden shiplap cottage. Once the car lights had gone, the place looked very gloomy and forbidding. There was an ice cold lion's head knocker on the door. Colin hammered with this for at least a minute, but no one answered. Jill found the doormat under the snow and lifted it. Underneath was the key. Hello, Uncle Giles. They called, pushing open the door. No answer. Jill tried the light switch, but nothing happened. Even if uncle has got a home computer, it won't work without electricity. We are going to have to forget our plan. The plan was that they invent a new video game in order to make themselves enough money to get their father home. Dad was in Saudi Arabia, working for a petroleum company. He'd been unable to find work in England. The plan was not really a pipe dream. A 16 year old friend of theirs had set up a workshop in his garage, and if Jill and Colin could come up with a really good game, they could make a fortune between them. That fire's going to go out if we don't get more logs, said Colin. You stay here. No way, said Jill. I'm not staying in this spooky place on my own. Most of the trees in the spinney were blackthorns, too skinny to be of any use on the fire. Then they came to a massive evergreen tree. The snow had been too heavy for one old dead branch. It had snapped away under the strain and fallen to the earth. There was an instant flare as they put the two halves of the branch on the fire. It helped to brighten the room. The only trouble was that the logs tended to crackle and spit. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rat, a tat on the front door. Then a voice cried, let me in.
Giles Foster
I know you're in there, the pair of you.
Narrator
Who are you? Cried Jill, her voice wavering.
Giles Foster
Giles Foster.
Narrator
Colin let out a breath of relief. Uncle Giles, he said and unbolted the door. Giles Foster sat down in the old armchair by the fire.
Giles Foster
You. You had no bad encounters, I trust?
Narrator
Encounters? Asked Jill.
Giles Foster
Yes, with the ghost.
Narrator
What ghost? Asked Colin. Giles was looking intently at the hissing logs.
Giles Foster
He haunts the spinney mostly, but he sometimes comes in here a lookin'.
Narrator
The logs on the fire spat a shower of sparks into the fireplace.
Giles Foster
Them logs. Where did they come from?
Narrator
From the big tree, Uncle.
Giles Foster
The old yew tree. No wonder you'll meet the ghost this night, that much is certain.
Narrator
Both children glanced nervously towards the front door.
Giles Foster
But then, you don't believe in ghosts, do you?
Narrator
Giles leaned forward and stirred the logs with a poker.
Giles Foster
Yes, it was at the turn of the last century. There was this woodman, you see. Fine figure of a man. Thought it time to lay aside his axe and go a courting, settle a bit. He'd been a coppicing and a cutting down trees all his life. Near destroy the forest he did. Some say the old yew tree killed him of a purpose. While he were on his way to a carol service just a few days before Christmas, somebody walked under the old yew tree, caught a clip on his ear from a dangling boot and there he was hanging by his neck from a fork in a branch. Well, there were no going straight to heaven, of course, because the Woodman was not in particular a religious man. The way of his death were very mysterious, and until someone living guesses exactly how the Woodman met his death, his spirit is not to be put to rest.
Narrator
And no one has guessed it, said Jill. That's terrible. Come on, Colin. We can think of how he died the way we play enigmas.
Giles Foster
I have to warn you, said Giles, that if you fail to get the right answer, there's a penalty.
Narrator
What? Asked Colin, his skin tingling with fright.
Giles Foster
The Woodman's ghost will return night after night and harass you until you're half out of your mind with fear.
Narrator
Scared as they were, the children felt compelled to go on. Jill swallowed hard. Did the wind sweep the branch down low and scoop him up?
Giles Foster
Doubtful, said Giles.
Narrator
Did the woodman climb the tree? Asked Colin. And he slipped.
Giles Foster
Cried Jill. Possible, said Giles. But why did he climb the tree in the first place?
Narrator
There was a kite caught in the branches, said Jill. And the Woodman was wanted to take it home to his grandchildren.
Giles Foster
Wrong again. The Woodman were a bachelor.
Narrator
An old bachelor, said Colin.
Giles Foster
Growing on, you might say.
Narrator
Then he wouldn't have a girlfriend, would he? So he wasn't climbing up to break off a few small branches to make some sort of a bouquet or something.
Giles Foster
Why wouldn't he have a lady friend? He may very well have had a lady for whom he carried an affection.
Narrator
So this girlfriend, said Jill carefully. She was at church, wasn't she? Otherwise he wouldn't be going there. You said he wasn't very religious. Giles clasped his hands together, and for the first time his eyes showed approval.
Giles Foster
Good lass, good lass.
Narrator
So, said Colin, frowning. He was on his way to church to see his girlfriend, though they were both quite old. Did she like him much? Asked Jill.
Giles Foster
Ah, there's the tragedy. No, not a great deal. He once tried to kiss her and she gave him short shrift.
Narrator
Colin remembered trying to do the same thing to a girl at a birthday party. You need an excuse for that sort of thing when they don't want you to do it. Jill suddenly sat up straight and clicked her fingers. Got it. She cried. Mistletoe. He was climbing the tree to get some mistletoe so that he could have an excuse to kiss the spinster. And he slipped and fell and got caught in the fork of the branch.
Giles Foster
At last, at long last, the Woodman's ghost be able to close his eyes and go to his rest.
Narrator
He pointed a bony finger at the door, and the children immediately guessed that the ghost was coming. The door swung open and an Old man stood before them. His eyes were colder than winter. I believe in ghosts, whispered Colin. I really do. I can tell you how you died. You'll be free. You can stop roaming the spinney. What on earth are you talking about, young man? Said the ghost, kicking off his shoes. Colin and Jill, eh? Please, Woodman, began Colin. But the ghost interrupted him with Woodman.
Giles Foster
I'm your Uncle Giles.
Narrator
The car broke down on the way to the station. I've been walking for an hour over the fields.
Giles Foster
Sorry I wasn't there to meet you.
Narrator
Taxi brought you, eh? Why on earth are you sitting in.
Giles Foster
The dark, for goodness sake?
Narrator
He reached up and turned a switch. The room was suddenly bright, and when Colin and Jill turned to look at the chair by the fire, it was quite empty. The ghost of the Woodman had played his final trick on the living and had gone now to the place where he belonged in the land of the dead. Now, said Uncle Giles, what about this Woodstock chappie?
Giles Foster
What?
Narrator
Never put a yew log on and open fire. It spits.
Giles Foster
Brings the ghost too.
Narrator
But I don't want to frighten you. We'll damp down the fire and perhaps he won't come. He's already been, said Jill.
Giles Foster
Good Lord. Giles Foster. Your great, great Uncle Giles, as a matter of fact, here was he. Well, I'm blowed. He. He didn't by any chance ask you to solve any riddles, did he?
Narrator
He did, and we gave him the right answer, said Jill proudly, and they told him the story of the mistletoe and how it happened. Now, come into the den. Bought something special for the pair of you.
Giles Foster
Made Christmas with an old man a bit more exciting.
Narrator
He led them into another room, switching on the lights as he did so.
Giles Foster
Tara.
Narrator
He cried, gesturing towards a desk. On it was a brand new home computer. That night, when the house was silent, Colin and Jill stared out into the starlit landscape. I bet I know what you're thinking, said Jill. What? Asked Colin. We've got our video game. The one that'll make enough money to get dad back home, Colin thought. Suddenly it came to him. You mean the game called the Woodman's Enigma? That's the one, said J. The Woodman's Enigma was written by Gary Kilworth and read by me, Edward d'. Souza.
Giles Foster
The story was abridged for radio by.
Narrator
Penny Lester, and the producer was Nandita Ghosh.
Episode: A Ghost for Christmas 1.2 - The Woodman's Enigma
Date: November 30, 2025
Host: Harold's Old Time Radio
This episode, "The Woodman's Enigma," is a dramatization of a ghostly mystery set in the days before Christmas, adapted from Gary Kilworth's story. Two siblings, Colin and Jill, are sent to spend the holidays with an unfamiliar uncle in the countryside, only to discover an eerie enigma involving a haunted tree, a mysterious ghost, and a riddle that must be solved to bring peace to a restless spirit. As the children unravel the woodman's secret, the episode explores themes of family, adventure, and the timeless magic (and spookiness) of classic radio storytelling.
[00:41 | Jill]: "Oh, Colin, that's an old one."
Sums up the sibling banter and the theme of familiar stories getting a new twist.
[04:55 | Giles Foster]: "Yes, with the ghost."
Abruptly introduces the episode’s supernatural element.
[07:23 | Giles Foster]: "The Woodman’s ghost will return night after night and harass you until you’re half out of your mind with fear."
A classic chilling warning in the tradition of ghost stories.
[09:36 | Jill]: "Mistletoe. He was climbing the tree to get some mistletoe so that he could have an excuse to kiss the spinster..."
The clever 'aha' moment that resolves the story.
[10:37 | Giles Foster]: "I'm your Uncle Giles... Sorry I wasn't there to meet you."
The supernatural twists back to mundane reality, in true radio drama style.
[12:15 | Giles Foster]: “Tara.”
Simple, joyful exclamation upon revealing the children's prize and launching the real "enigma": writing their game.
The episode is classic radio drama steeped in nostalgia, gentle suspense, and cozy spookiness, with clever dialogue and sibling camaraderie. The tone is warm yet eerie—a family ghost story that ends on a heartwarming, hopeful note. Listeners are left with a sense of childhood imagination and the magic of storytelling around a fireside.
The Woodman’s Enigma is a fine example of how the Golden Age of Radio wove together the supernatural and the everyday, delivering both chills and comfort—just in time for Christmas.