This page is dedicated to those of you who have been fortunate/or not so fortunate enough to have experienced a real life encounter from beyond the veil, or what we classically refer to as a ghostly visitation!
If you’ve had a personal experience with a spirit and would like to write about it and share it with me, please do and I’ll happily post it here on this page, your page – dedicated to you, the author. If you prefer not to include your name, you’re welcome to go anonymous.
Let’s stick it up the proverbial of those non-believers who say it’s a load of … ahem – well you know the words. Always remember, you know you had that experience and no one can take that away from you!
The first contribution to this page is from well known Australian author, Posie Graeme-Evans. Posie is an Australian novelist, television and film producer, editor, screenwriter and director. Having written five historical novels, her latest ‘Wild Wood’ just published through Simon and Schuster Australia, Posie’s past achievements include the creation and production of hit television programmes McLeod’s Daughters and Hi-5.
Monkton Old Hall –
by Posie Graeme-Evans
I heard a knock at the door, a sharp rap – twice. I thought it was Andrew so I got up and opened the door. There was no-one there; he was asleep in another room.
So there I was with a heavy cold in wintery South Wales in mid January this year. My cold was so damn antisocial I actually wore a face mask, so Andrew wouldn’t catch it. We were staying in this remarkable building, Monkton Old Hall, in Pembroke and we were the only two people in that house.
Monkton Old Hall the oldest still inhabited house in Pembrokeshire – it’s documented back to the C11th, and is quite probably far older. Why? Because we were recce’ing locations for the book I’ll write this year. “The Outer Sea” is its working title BUT… this place was once a Priory Guesthouse for pilgrims on their way to the mighty St. David’s cathedral on the South Coast of Wales.
Monkton Old Hall is within sight of Pembroke Castle, the birthplace of that grim king, Henry VII (and it looked stark indeed on the day we arrived, as you can see).
But once we were inside, and the fire was lighted (my favourite time of day) Andrew and I felt better. Love the sense of the evening coming down…
However, the night got colder and I started coughing and spluttering so I put myself into bed in a room by myself.
That was the bed I slept in, on the left hand side. But I couldn’t rest and coughed, and read, and sneezed, and coughed until, exhausted, I turned the light off. And, almost immediately, I heard a knock at the door, a sharp rap – twice. I thought it was Andrew so I got up and opened the door. There was no-one there; he was asleep in another room. And we were the only people in the place…
And, when we went there, we did not know it was haunted.
After I returned to Australia, I googled and found reference to the well-attested ghost at the hall. And, guess what it does? It knocks on your door in the middle of the night! Still getting over that.