Haunted House

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I was born in a Georgian town house, in my grandmother's bedroom, above her toy shop. It was a large house, dark and rambling and split into several flats, on each of the 3 floors. My parents, brother and myself occupied the top floor and it was here that I lived for the first 10 years of my life. We moved to a cottage out of town, to be near my grandmother, when she sold the house in 1960. Since then the house has changed hands several times. It has been a green grocers, a car accessory shop and recently, a beauticians/ clothes shop.

This year my children asked me what I would like for my 'Mothers' Day' present. I decided to have a voucher for a back massage - at the beauticians now operating in Gran's old house. Being nosy, I wanted a look around!

Jill, my daughter, and I went along before 'Mothers' Day' to purchase said voucher (something in their price range). While we were there we got chatting to the new owners. Jill told them that this was my old home, which really interested them. They called in the rest of the staff to meet us. They asked me all about the house, its history, all I knew about the property - and whether it was 'haunted' - because they had often heard a baby crying on the landing. I told them that my mother, when she was 18 years old 'had to get married'. The child born to her (a girl) was born prematurely and had only lived for three weeks. After her death my mother and grandmother often heard a baby crying on the stairs. (It may be of interest that the premature birth was caused by my mother falling down the stairs late in her pregnancy...) Anyway, I had a good chat with the staff and they made me an appointment for my back massage, asking me to bring along any memorabilia about the house, photos etc.

Just before my appointment was due, one of the staff phoned up to cancel it because the masseuse had gone down with the 'flu'. She asked if I would mind going the following week on the 11th of April. This was O.K. so along I went the following week for my little luxury in Gran's old house. A trip down memory lane for me. I produced all the photos, letters etc. about the house, I'd also got the death certificate of my little sister who had died at three weeks old. I hadn't noticed, but it was pointed out to me by one of the staff, that it was actually the 11th of April and the date on the death certificate was - the 11th of April! I had turned up at my old home on the anniversary of her death...

Kate Cole

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