We live in quite an old house and Mrs P is convinced that we have a mischievous ghost. How else do you explain why else it is that just one of a pair of earrings that go missing from her jewellery box every time?
Being rational, unimaginative and a man, I don’t believe in such things, but I could easily let myself be swayed when things happen like they did today.
For weeks I’ve been looking for a particular reference book that I bought last year. It was only a paperback, but there was one short article in it that I wanted to go back to.
I knew that my son had borrowed it, so I started in his bedroom, but there was no sign of it on his bookshelves or in the overflow stack of books on the floor.
I tried the bookshelves in our bedroom, the dining room, the conservatory and in the cellar. (Yes, we keep books in the cellar because we’ve run out of space elsewhere.)
I’ve been through this hunt the book ritual once or twice a week since January and today I reconciled myself with its loss. I managed to find a used copy on Amazon for a few pounds and placed the order.
That done, I went over to the nearest bookshelf looking for something entirely unconnected and there was the missing book staring me in the face.
So it was back to the computer to try to cancel the order that I’d placed just minutes before with the embarrassing admission: ‘I’ve realised that I already have this book.’
If we are haunted, he/she/it certainly has a prankster’s sense of humour.