We used to joke, in our old building, that work was haunted.
It wasn’t. Because that’s nonsense. But we did used to hear noises, voices and whatever else – particularly in the evenings.
But that was mainly due to drunks staggering past the door and the fact that there was a betting shop underneath and we could hear the commentary of the horse racing, people banging about and such like.
Now we’ve moved, we’re higher up. We’re next to an accounting firm, and above a hairdresser’s. The hairdresser’s, on the whole, is the single nosiest place in the whole of Huddersfield. They play stupidly loud music, and the other day I was treated to an absolute cacophony of burps which I heard all the way up the stairs.
But they finish at about five-ish on a Saturday and bugger off.
So I was, essentially, in the building on my own on Saturday night.
Our new building makes some very strange noises. You think you’re hearing doors banging closed when there can’t possibly be doors banging closed. At one point, I left the room I was resetting to check that our main door was locked because I wasn’t sure if someone had sloped in. I put it down, though, to the fact that I had opened the window to let the smoke out (don’t ask, but we weren’t on fire) and that a breeze had blown a door.
It was still a bit freaky deaky.
Upstairs, in the Cabin room, you can hear pigeons hopping around on the roof and in particular, on the metal beam of the block and tackle hoist thing we have in a corner. It’s a weird place to be, on your own, vaguely aware of noises in other parts of the building.
I mean, we’re not haunted. Because that would be ridiculous.
But equally, we’re fricking haunted and the ghosts love to bang a door or two when you’re not looking. Not full on slam. Just a gentle bang, to make you think someone’s around and about rather than that you’re about to be murdered.
Can’t wait until the clocks change and it gets dark at 4pm…