Ghost House

It was a cold grey day in November, as indeed November always is in the United Kingdom.

My husband and I, and our two young sons, then aged 2 and 3 years, were driving from address to address, house hunting. We had moved to a new town at the request of the company my husband worked for.

His company were very good and we were staying in a top hotel,whilst we looked for a house to buy, and the company were paying all expenses.

Sounds good,but try living in a very ‘posh’ hotel with a two and three year old and you would soon see the draw backs.

My sons were boisterous and playful boys. Not a day went by when we did not receive disapproving ‘tuts’ from the hotels top hatted and tail coated staff in the lobby.

The final straw came when they flooded the bathroom and water cascaded down the carpeted hallway.

Alice, who was a very kind chambermaid tried to mop and conceal the damage, but we were found out and it was suggested, very tactfully. of course, by the Manager of the hotel, that we perhaps should find somewhere more ‘child orientated’.

Hence the driving around frantically looking for a house to buy.

Coming from the North of England, Captain Cook country actually, with its picturesque views and quiet rolling countryside, this town was quite a shock with its busy motorways and houses crowded together.

Estate Agents would give us houses to view, with details such as quiet rural setting, HA! The motorway would be running at the back door, or comments such as Artistic licence would change the persona of this property’! What they meant was it was almost derelict and it would need gutting. Estate agents have this wonderful way with words, must be their creative energy.!!!!!!!!

Anyway one of the houses we had been sent to view was just as described above. A complete shambles, no hot water system, indeed no kitchen to speak of, no bathroom, and paper peeling off the walls, where the walls were still standing that was. I LOVED IT>>>>>>>> I just fell in love with the place. I could feel a wonderful energy in the house. It turned out that an old man had lived there for 50 years ,before he died, 20 of those years on his own because his wife had died previously.

He must have been a wonderful person, because the house just ‘breathed Love’

The garden was breathtakingly beautiful, with every kind of tree and flower imaginable, but the house OH DEAR!

My husband was off out of the door muttering something very rude about Estate Agents. I raced after him, extolling the virtues of the garden, and gabbling about what could be done to the place. It would be easy to renovate and not cost much I lied.

He hated gardening, and hated disruption, so none of the above appealed to him, he got back in the car, leaving me to lock up the house.

I knew the ‘old man’ who had lived in the house, would be watching from spirit’, and I sadly told him we would not be taking his house. I went to find the boys, who had been racing from room to room, I found them in a room that had been turned into a ballroom by its previous owner, the floors had been polished for dancing. My sons were leaping up and down on the springy floor, when suddenly the floorboards gave way and my elder son disappeared down the hole with a shriek.

Hearing the commotion my husband rushed back from the car and together we unceremoniously pulled the child out from under the floor. He was unhurt as such and we all returned to the car, and hotel.

The weeks went on and we continued to ‘house hunt’

However I kept on retuning to “The house from Hell’ as my husband had taken to calling it.

I would go when he was at work.Just me and the boys.We would wander round the garden, and twice I managed to get the Estate agent to let me inside for another look.We avoided the floor boards of course.

Each time we went I ‘saw’ the old man who had lived there. He was a lovely old soul, and the house still had lots of his personal things.Nothing of great value, but pictures,photographs and clothes, and the desk still had his letters on it. His only family had been his brother, who had taken everything of great value, and left all the personal things.

I met the lady who lived next door, and asked her about the old man. Mrs Wilson, as she was called, told me that she had also lived in her house for 50 years so she knew the old man, Noel, very well. He was very nice ,she said, but a bit eccentric. He and his wife had turned a huge room into a dancing room and they and their friends would dance each Saturday night to the ‘big band sounds’ of Joe Loss and such bands of the time. They never had any children, just each other, so when his wife died of a brain tumour, Noel had been devastated.

Each time I visited the house, I would ‘see’ something else. I saw spirit animals in the garden, two dogs and three cats.

Then in a room that had obviously been a workshop, I saw dolls houses which had been beautifully painted, and wood shavings all over the floor. They were not there before, and in fact were not really there at all, but I could see them.

Back I went to Mrs Wilson next door. Did Noel have any pets, I inquired

Oh yes she told me the garden is full of graves of the various loved pets.

I then tentatively asked about the wood shavings and the dolls houses. She was suspicious now, ‘How do you know about those things ‘she asked. I had to come ‘clean’ and tell her that I was a medium/clairvoyant and ‘saw’ things.

Well you see right she confirmed.Noel loved children and although he had none of his own, he would make wooden toys for all the children in the area.

He made dolls house and wooden forts. The house was always full of wood shavings she explained.

Back I went next door, ‘Home’ as I had begun to think of it. It was then I got a ‘message’ from the old man. He told me that the house would soon be sold to developers, and that the thought of that made him sad. He wanted me to live there, so I had to make an offer to buy the place.

I rushed off to the agents, and did just that. I made a very reduced offer to the asking price, but the agents were not clairvoyant and did not know that a developers offer was imminent, so as the house had been on the market for ages, they agreed my offer on the provision that contacts were exchanged immediately. GREAT I thought, there was only one problem…… Yes, if readers, you are keeping up with the plot, my husband was not yet aware that ‘we’ were buying the ‘house from hell’. Quick thinking was called for.

That evening when he returned from work to our new hotel rooms, the children performed magnificently. They were horrendous. I had deliberately kept them cooped up all day, no walks, no swim in the pool, no TV, they were full of the devil, not to mention energy.

Lets go the restaurant, I suggested sweetly, you will feel better when you have a whisky and some food. So we did. The kids however continued to behave appallingly, they spilled their drinks, and fought with each other, and would not eat, because I ordered something I knew they would not want. My husband who hated ‘scenes’ was getting more and more stressed. IT WAS WORKING Finally as pudding crashed onto the restaurant’s expensive posh carpet, because mum was not supervising the boys, he exploded. We cannot go on like this he said, we need a home. Oh I know I agreed, soothingly, whilst ordering him a stiff whisky from the huffy waiter, who was on his knees cleaning up the spilt dessert from the carpet.

Tell you what I said to my husband, you drink your drink, whilst I just pop the boys upstairs to bed. Just as we left the table, I left him with the thought, Why don’t we re consider THAT house. I think we could get it cheap and then spend the saved money on renovating. It worked, he slumped over his drink,’ YES ‘,he agreed ‘we could, why don’t you see if its still for sale and make an offer.’

I rushed from the restaurant with the boys, who were sure they were in big trouble regarding their terrible behaviour, and bless them they were very confused to find their mother singing and dancing with triumph and joy,when we got upstairs. Thank you ANGELS . I put the boys to bed. and went down to soothe my poor husband.

We bought and moved into the house.

Right from the start the ‘old man’ was ever present. All of his personal belongings etc. I put into plastic bags and put them under the floorboards, it would be awful to throw them away I told my husband. ‘Yes’ he agreed wearily.

The builders then arrived to start the renovations.They were knocking down walls and out houses, and as always in England it rained.

One thing belonging to the old man that I had not put under the floorboards was his gardening jacket.It was an old chequered coat that was hanging on a hook in the potting shed.

One day the rain was very heavy and I noticed that the younger builder was not wearing a coat, so I told him to wear the jacket to keep dry. He thanked me and put it on, and whenever after that he was cold or it was wet he would put on the jacket.

In the back garden of the house was a very old and deep pond and an old well Neither were fenced off, so I used to watch my young sons very carefully in the garden.

One day to my horror I realised that my elder son was missing and had got outside into the back garden so I rushed out, fearing he might have got to the well or pond.

He was near the pond, talking to ‘someone’ I rushed over and gathered him up. You mustn’t be out here I told him, you could fall in the pond or the well and drown. He looked straight into my eyes and said, ‘Oh no, the old man looks after me .

What old man I asked him, because I had not discussed my sightings with the children. ‘The old man of the garden’, he told me solomnly.’He holds my hand and tells me not to go near the water, and he tells me funny stories’ My son went on to tell me that the old man was a bit cheeky because he wore the young builders coat. The amazing thing was that my son had only seen the builder wearing the jacket and so thought that it was his, but of course when he was seeing the ‘spirit of the old man, the old man was wearing his own coat, the jacket had belonged to him.

The old man, Noel’ continued to live with us in the house for some years, and then gently disappeared.

I asked my son, when he was about seven years old, if he ever saw the old man. He looked at me quite quizzically and said with authority that he was a big boy now and that the old man did not need to watch over him, to make sure he did not drown or fall.

The house became beautiful after its renovations. The garden continued to blossom as if some unseen hand tended it with love, it was certainly not my husband, he hated the garden, he said he always felt as if ”someone ‘ was watching him. POOR MAN

When it was time for us to leave the house and move on, I promised Noel that I would find someone nice to sell the house to, someone who would love it as we had done.

And we did.

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Love, Light & Blessings