Faces in the win­dow:


Chat It's Fate - - Contents - Gwen Mo­ran, Saddleworth, Manch­ester Three faces were star­ing in at me

Gwen’s house was truly haunted

Yawn­ing, I started push­ing the fridge across the kitchen to its new spot. It was 10pm at night and I’d just moved into an old farm­house on Saddleworth Moor. The place had views to die for and a fascinating history - it was built in 1640 as a hunt­ing lodge for one of Oliver Cromwell’s gen­er­als.

But mov­ing house takes it out of you, and I was tired and fret­ful. So much so that, when I wedged the fridge into the cor­ner and plugged it in, and the plug promptly fell back out again, I yelled a rude word!

At once, the kitchen door slammed shut with such force that the house shook! Jump­ing out of my skin, I sud­denly felt re­ally creeped out. What could have slammed the door? There was no breeze, and I was all alone in this an­cient house...


My 16-year old son ar­rived home shortly af­ter­wards, and we both went up to bed.

I was just putting on my py­ja­mas when there was an almighty crash.

Cau­tiously, we crept down­stairs to in­ves­ti­gate. One of my pictures had fallen off the wall and smashed to bits.

Strange. I’d hung it very se­curely on a nail that was still jammed hard into the wall.

I barely slept a wink that night. Had I moved us into a haunted house?

But next morn­ing, when the sun came up over the moors, our new home looked stun­ningly beau­ti­ful again.

One evening, I was loung­ing on the couch watch­ing telly. My son had gone out with some of his friends. Grad­u­ally, I be­came aware of the sound of foot­steps over­head.


My skin started to crawl. I was def­i­nitely alone in the house – so who was walk­ing around in the bed­room above.

The sounds stopped – then the picture on the wall next to me be­gan swing­ing from left to right. I was start­ing to panic when I re­alised I could make out the faces of three lads, star­ing in at me through the win­dow. I breathed a sigh of re­lief. My son was back, with his mates. Phew!

‘Is the latch on the front door stuck again?’ I yelled to the lads out­side.

I heard the front door open and my son walk in.

‘Don’t worry, lads, he’s done it,’ I said to the boys out­side.

My son stuck his head into the room. ‘Who are you talk­ing to, Mum?’ ‘Your mates,’ I replied. ‘What mates?’ he asked, look­ing puz­zled.

I pointed to the boys out­side – but they’d van­ished...

So much weird stuff went on in my house, I was re­lieved when we moved out in the end. It was a gor­geous house – but looks aren’t ev­ery­thing!


Haunted: Saddleworth

Smashed: Picture

Close bond: Mum and son

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