by Anthea Holland

Created on: November 02, 2008

SATURDAY NIGHT WITH A GHOST-HUNTER
Ask most men how they like to spend Saturday nights and they will probably mention the local hostelry. Some more intellectual types might suggest the opera or the theatre but few will bring the local graveyard into the conversation.

Enter Stan Willetts.....

Stan's idea of a fun-filled Saturday night is to spend it in any location that might produce a spook or two, and recently I joined him and his colleagues at the place reputed to be the most haunted house in England - Chingle Hall in Goosnaugh, Lancashire.

I had already been to see the place where I would be spending the night and found that, contrary to its grand name, Chingle Hall was little more than a good sized house, somewhat in need of a coat of paint with small but pretty gardens.

I decided not to take the guided tour that was on offer as I knew that it would form part of the night-time entertainment. Instead I nosed around the caravan in the grounds and read some of the press cuttings that were on display. I hoped tonight I wouldn't follow the example of a recent party of students who had fled in horror when confronted with aspects of paranormal manifestations. I purchased a car sticker declaring I had visited 'Chingle Hall - the most haunted house in England' before going off to The Grapes public House, which was where I was to meet Stan.

I recognised Stan from the description he had sent me and the fact he was the only person in the bar. His rumpled, lived-in face was not perhaps how I had imagined a ghost-hunter to look and he didn't appear to be carrying bell, book and candle, but he assured me the equipment he carried was much more useful. We were joined by Sandy and Jeff Noland and together we set off for our nine o'clock appointment with the paranormal.

The smell of wood-smoke from the log fire in the Great Hall engulfed us as we entered the building. Our guide showed us to one of the upstairs rooms where reclining chairs and tea and coffee making equipment had been set out.

It took some time to haul Stan's gear upstairs and set it up to his satisfaction. He told me that the infra-red film in his camera provided good black and white night-time shots, and that the voice-activated tape recorder would start recording each time a sound broke the silence.

I asked Stan what made a seemingly sensible feet-on-the-ground chap want to spend his leisure hours looking for ghosts.

'Oh, I think it's fascinating,' he told me. 'Ask anyone you know and they'll all have a ghost story

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