Haunted Again - The Final Chapter!

So, life went on. With the approaching birth all my time was taken up with medical appointments, decorating the nursery, knitting baby clothes etc. etc. All seemed to remain quiet on the whole until after Becky was born. My mind was so taken up with her those first few months that I probably would not have noticed had anything been going on. I still felt uncomfortable at night but as I had to do night feeds, that took the edge off. I still hated crossing the hall and ascending the stairs but somehow I got used to it. Also, I was much more tired at night which probably all helped.

I still discussed things with the neighbours and questions had been asked in the neighbourhood. The following story emerged although I have never been able to establish its accuracy. It did come, however, from someone whose family had lived in the area for generations. The ground on which the housing estate - and our Close stood, had originally been all farmland and woodland. It was owned by a very eccentric family who kept very much to themselves. A Father, Mother and one son who never married. They were wealthy but only as far as the land went because they owned so much of it in the area. They had a very large and rambling property made entirely of wood with a long approach lane to it, at the end of which there was a very large wooden gate (seemingly the one or the remains of one I found in the woods). They were unsociable and much disliked. After the death of his parents, the son remained there alone, like a recluse and making a living however he could. He would not allow people on his land and anyone who ventured there would be seen off with a shotgun.

Well, one night, and nobody seems to know what happened, a fire broke out and the house was reduced to ashes along with its owner. For countless years the charred remains stayed, decaying more and more until nature overtook everything. For a long time thereafter it stayed as countryside and woods. Then the Council acquired it, there being no known owner, nobody they could now trace it to and so the land was turned into streets with countless houses. We just happened to live in the house that was closest to the large gate that was all that remained of the wooden house and their property. Only the land was left.

What really decided me that we had to leave, that I could not remain in the house any longer was  downto two things. Firstly, we had a very large hall. Large enough to accommodate a floor- to -ceiling bookcase that was made by Mike’s Dad, plus a chair and you still had room enough to hold a dance. It was a large space. Our telephone was in the hall in those days, sitting on the bookcase with my chair beside it so that I could relax and chat. Directly opposite were the two living room doors. As you already know, we lived in the back room. I always kept the front room door closed as this was our “entertaining” room whenever we had visitors and I did not want the cat and the dog in there dropping hairs. (I was much more house-proud in those days!) Mind you, I hated people ringing me in the evenings because I just did not like to be in that hall.

Well, one night the phone rang and I was sitting on my chair nattering away. As I sat down I glanced across and saw that the front room door was firmly closed as usual. I sat talking and paying attention only to the caller, swinging my feet and looking at the floor. When I glanced up again the front room door was wide open. I was a little taken aback, but thinking nothing of it really, I told my caller to hold on and walked across and shut it. It was a heavy door with a brass knob and it closed firmly with a loud click. I returned to the phone but, as I sat talking, I stared at the door. Suddenly, I saw the door knob turn, very slowly but it was turning and then the door was wide open again. I turned to ice. My quaking must have sounded in my voice because my caller asked what was wrong. I made some feeble excuse and said I had to go. I put down the phone and somehow forced myself to go and close the door again. I then retreated to the bottom of the stairs where I sat on the lower steps and watched. For around ten minutes - nothing. Then the door knob turned again, some unseen hand was opening the door! As the door flew open, I flew up the stairs, ran into the nursery, grabbed the baby and barricaded myself in my bedroom. What good I thought this would do, I did not know. All remained quiet for the rest of the night.

The following night, having given the baby her fed in the early hours, I retired back to bed for more sleep. I was lying there thinking of nothing in particular when I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. I sat bolt upright thinking it must be a noise from outside. No, they were footsteps and they were inside and were now on the landing. They stopped outside the baby’s door!! Then I heard a loud report, a very loud report, just like a gun being fired.

Now, somehow you find courage from somewhere, especially if you think that your child or a member of your family is in danger. My main thought was for Becky - no-one or no thing was going to get her. I shouted at the top of my voice, flung open the door, saw nothing, went into the nursery, grabbed Becky from her cot and fled downstairs where I spent the rest of the night praying for the protection of the Lord. I put crosses up in all the rooms, but my mind was determined. I could not live here anymore.

That was it for me. I told Mike I could not stay in the place, I would live in a cardboard box but I was not staying there. We put the place on the market, we even dropped the price and made a big loss on the sale just to get rid of the place.

Luckily we found a quick buyer with no chain and it was only a couple of months later that we were able to drive away for good.

Do I still believe it was haunted? Yes, I most certainly do. I think the “gentleman” who had owned the land was furious that people were living on it. He had driven them off in life, he was trying to drive them off in death and he succeeded in our case. They say that when people die a violent or unexpected death, the spirit remains unquiet, trapped in limbo. Maybe he did not realise that he was dead and was protecting his property just as he used to in life.

I kept in touch with a couple of the neighbours for a long time afterwards, although one of them moved shortly after us.  Apparently the people who bought our house only stayed six months, the people after them lasted only slightly longer. So why should “our” house have been the one singled out for the most activity. Because “his” gate was directly behind it, our home would have been on the direct approach to his house. I had also uncovered the gate and taken Mike to see it and he had lifted it up and examined it.  "He" was not at all happy with us. That is the only explanation I can give.

Do you know, dear readers, that it has even given me goose bumps writing about it - even after all these years!