“In the 1960s, my partner and I returned to my home country, England. We came back to a town called Warwick. Unfortunately, there weren’t any houses on the market, so we were forced to rent. The house my partner and I rented was a beautiful, old cottage.
From the moment I entered, I didn’t feel right. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but I felt I was constantly being watched. But, me being me, I felt I was probably overreacting, so put it to one side and carried on with life.
One day, when my husband had gone to work at the local university, I went to put some washing out on the line. While I was outside, I heard a noise and turned around. Behind me was a man in black and white standing perfectly motionless in the center of the garden. He wasn’t doing anything.
I couldn’t say a word, and I walked quickly away from the man. When I got inside, there was nobody in the garden. However, the man was there the next day, and the day after that – until it got to the point where I couldn’t face going into the garden. My husband said that he never felt anything whilst in the house.
I pleaded with him to leave, and we did. I have never been back. This story may not sound too scary, but when you’re a pregnant woman with a child coming soon, you feel so insecure it’s unbelievable.”