Our previous house was built in the early 19th century. A 3 storey end of terrace by 1999.

My youngest was 8 years old when we first moved in. He and his brother had the two rooms on the top floor.

A couple of years later, I became friends with a very old man who had been born in and lived in our house for many years in the early 20th century. I took him inside for a tour…almost 30 years after he’d last set foot in there.

He was lovely and told me many stories about his childhood. His parents. His life there.

Where is this going?

Well. Youngest used to have many nights of disturbed sleep and EVENTUALLY he told me why. He kept seeing an old man in his bedroom, wearing an overcoat and trilby.

OK. No worries. Knowing the history of the house and some names, I sat on youngest’s bed for a couple of minutes and said words to the effect – “Thank you for looking after your home but you’ve no need to worry. We love it as much as you did.”

Ghostie was NEVER seen again.

Scared? Moi? Nah :o)