Seeing as it's you. This might take a wee while.
Now. Having had my first Fortean experience quite late in life (See A&E weirdness) in my mid twenties to be precise, although, looking back there was other stuff in my teens that I just didn't really consider them unusual at the time...turns out they were when I compare my formative years with others I've met since.
So, after I left the NHS I went into independent nursing, basically living with rich old people in their own home and attending to their medical needs while other " staff" get on with cooking, cleaning etc. Believe me there are many wealthy folk who can afford that.
I took a job at a house called "Baynards" between Horsham and Cranleigh which was situated within the grounds of Baynards Park once part of a manor estate, the main house having burnt down in the 60s I think??
Anyhoo. I was part of a 2 nurse team with one on days ( a lady from my agency) and me on nights.
When we turned up we were met by the husband and wife team (both RNs) who we were relieving. After the lengthy handover, care plan, medical notes, medication check etc. They were leaving and the bloke says " we are so effing pleased to be out of here, place is haunted as hell" apparently they had been asking for weeks to be relieved but no one else would come..that should have been our cue to leave but I was young and used to working in a large busy trauma unit and felt like I was up for anything..my partner said she didn't believe in all that so, we stayed.
When I went up to "my room" I was pretty shocked that it looked like a throwback to the 1950s, all cricket bats, old furniture, ashtrays in silver and black and white photos of old Morgan cars and school cricket and rugby team prints.The housekeeper gaily announced that this had been the room of the owners son who was killed in a motorbike accident on the road outside the house in 1956. It hadn't been touched since and was kept a a memorial. Nice.
The house was old. Really old. It was part of the manor gatehouse that had been split into three houses it was dated in the 1600s and was all oak beams and low doors. The entrance hall was cobbled and was obviously an old stable yard that had been enclosed in the building, this area housed the washing machine, tumble drier, fridge freezer etc.
The front door was cut into the old massive gateway which was about 12ft high and 15ft across and filled with oak gates which still had the massive hinges and iron fittings. Inside the house was all dark wood, a very grand staircase led up to the first floor which opened onto a wide landing with, bizarrely an all glass louvred ceiling along its length which let in loads of natural light.
The owner had spent his working life in Ceylon as a tea plantation owner and the walls sported the heads of buffalo, big elk things and a rather tatty looking tiger..all shot by him.
There was also a huge tiger skin rug in front of the massive fireplace in the front room. Him:2-Tigers-0.
The fun began right from the get go. As soon as the 2 leaving nurses had gone. About ten minutes after they drove off there was a massive knock on the door. I thought they've forgotten something..opened the door...tumbleweed. No one in sight. Shrug. End.
1st night. After the old boy is in bed I'm sitting on the tiger chatting to the other nurse over a fine single malt. The housekeeper had said "drink what you like" after all when, I kid you not we hear the sound of horses going potty in the back of the house, hooves scraping, whinnies the lot. I went to look out of the window, pitch dark outside, but somethings wrong. My colleague says. They're in the front yard, so I start walking towards the front door ( which is at the back of the house) and I realise the horse noises were coming from the vestibule, INSIDE the house. The noise had stopped as I was walking there but when I opened the door to the vestibule I realised she was right. The only "cobbles" anywhere were in the bloody house! Outside was gravel and grass.
2nd day. I'm in bed trying to sleep but keep hearing scratching on my bedroom door, there is a cat in the house, (apart from the Tigers) and I keep jumping up to catch the blighter. He's never there. I just couldn't sleep in that bloody room, I kept smelling fags being smoked...and I don't smoke..it was really pissing me off. So I ended up basically not sleeping for the week I was there.
From third day on, escalating events, the horse noises again, in the dead of night, washing machine turning itself onto spin cycle repeatedly without being programmed to do so, my colleague was getting so freaked out that she. Wouldn't sleep either. We'd sit in the front room waiting for it all to kick off.
By day 4 were on to the agency demanding to be taken off the job. We were drinking a lot too. Not good when you're in charge of an elderly patient. We weren't "drunk" but we were numbing ourselves somewhat.
On the morning of day five I went upstairs to find the whole landing covered in leaves, autumn leaves, all dry and crispy. This was in high summer.
There was no open louvre, no leaves outside, no leaves in the gutters or anywhere on the roof. Believe me I climbed up to check. The phenomena by now included fingernails tapping on the windows at night..clickety clickety..Christ.
The final straw came on day 6' well night 6. The pair of us nurses were sitting in the usual spot waiting for the next horror when , my colleague says.."can you see THAT" pointing at the curtains..I'm staring, can't see anything...then..of fuck..there is a woman's arm. I kid you not, from shoulder to fingertip, the arm was floating quite still, I could see a puffed dress sleeve at the top, bracelet, and very large rings on the well kept fingers. It had a thin lacy sort of long sleeve leading up to the puffed velvet looking shoulder ornament. Dress was emerald green by the look of it. I was out of the chair to catch the wearer behind the heavy curtains. No prizes for guessing what I found when the curtain was pulled back. Anyway. The arm was in front of the curtain. There just wasn't the usual body attached.
My colleague decided enough was enough and she took the old boys car out of the garage and drove off. Leaving me there.
*edit* yes. She would have been over the limit.
I had to call the guys son, who, it turns out I'd met many years before in a totally unrelated role, odd. He came out in te morning and I said I wanted out and said I didn't mind pay being docked. This guy is actually really well known in some sectors and he was very nice all things considered. He didn't even ask what was up, he wasn't bothered about the missing car, which he knew I would get back to him and said he "understood" my colleagues sudden exit.
I had to stay until another nurse came in that night but got out tout suite.
Many years later someone gave me Judy Middletones excellent books "Haunted Sussex and Haunted Surrey" and I read with total fascination the history of Baynards Manor and Park and exactly why it was so haunted.
I'll leave you, the reader, to look it up for yourselves. If your interested. I'm never going back. I know that much.
