In the year since we started this ghost hunting lark, we’ve been on the lookout for mad monks, jilted lovers, Victorian couples and even a hag. What have we found? Not a sausage.After doing a spot of googling (painful), I realised that Mike and I have been setting our sights too low. Forget all these common-or-garden spooks. If various internet sites are to be believed, there’s a member of royalty hovering right on our doorstep: namely, Mary Queen of Scots.
Extensive research (a couple of minutes on Wikipedia) revealed that she was called Mary, she was a queen and she was Scottish. She’s also been spotted at the ruins of the Turret House at Manor Castle in Sheffield, where she was held for many years.
So, Mike and I compared our diaries (mine’s A4 with a brown cover and a pen-holder; Mike’s is green and pocket-sized) and we agreed to meet by the ruins on the edge of the Manor Estate.
Mike pulled up in his car by the vast, impressive ruins that dominated the landscape in front of us.
‘So,’ he said as he got out to greet me, ‘where’s these ruins then?’
A quick inspection revealed that the ruins were fenced off and inaccessible at all times to the general public. Something to do with health and safety and trespassers being prosecuted.
No matter. We weren’t going to be put off. This was the big one. This was it! Full of eager expectation, we were most definitely going to spot our regal ghost, photograph her, write it all up, bung a video on YouTube, send out frenzied press releases, and live off the inevitable fame and glory for the next few months.
After five minutes of patrolling the fence and shivering, Mike said to me: ‘Bit nippy, innit. Fancy going down the pub instead?’
‘Yeah, all right,’ I quickly agreed.
So we did.
Hope you enjoyed this full and true account of our dedication to the cause.
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