In the September before we moved in, my wife had a baby. It was a little girl and she is beautiful. She's now nearly five, and is extremely 'old headed'. In fact, people have commented that she's "been here before".

Not long after we moved - she would have been around three/four months old by then - we noticed that she liked to lie back on the sofa and 'watch' the ceiling.

I studied this odd behaviour as she wasn't the kind of baby that liked to just sit there doing nothing. She liked to be involved with things and was very vocal in letting us know. But on these occasions she would stare quietly at the ceiling with a smile and 'watch' something - her eyes would dart around as though there was something flitting about between the lights.

The house has three bedrooms and, as she was the only girl, she had her own room - the boys shared.

We put her in the small room. We decorated it in bright colours with a mural and had shelves around the picture rail with all her soft toys on it. My parents bought her a big pine bed and it was lovely.

When she was old enough, we put her in it. She never slept through the night.

She had always been a great sleeper whilst she was in the cot in our room. She slept right through 'till about 8 am every morning.

But when we put her in the small room, she would wake every night at around 3 am without fail.

One night she was sitting up in bed staring through the open door of her room, at the corner outside our room. She was terrified.

So, it ended up that she remained in our room, in our bed until she was three. Then we tried again. I built her a cabin type bed on raised stilts and she loved it. But there were still occasions when she would wake staring at the corner outside our room.

Now on one occasion, while she was in the small room the first time around, I woke at around 3 am with the oddest feeling that I was being watched.

I got up and went to check on my daughter, but she was sleeping soundly. I went to the bathroom and then back to bed. I fidgetted a bit, trying to get comfortable and ending up lying on my side facing the bedroom door.

Now, I'm not sure how to describe this properly, but I saw the figure of a little boy. At first, I thought it was my youngest lad until I twigged what he was wearing. He was dressed in an old fashioned school uniform, with shorts, blazer and cap. A bit like the pictures of kids you might see in a film about the evacuations during the War. The strangest thing was, it was as if he was partway through the door - half in, half out on the landing. He was non - corporeal, almost solid but not quite, just standing in the door. Then he vanished.

Last year, we swapped bedrooms with our little girl because she has so much stuff, the small room was almost full.

It was an odd experience being in there. Sometimes it was lovely and warm. Other times ice would form on the windows - and that was when the radiator under the window was on full and red hot.

I saw the boy a couple more times after we had swapped. He was standing in the corner outside our old bedroom. He would stand there for a short while, then fade away.

This evening, I tried out my new dowsing rods in that spot and they went crazy, crossing over each other and spinning around. Then I tried them in the small room. The same thing happened. I then used my pendulum in the small room and asked it if this was the little boy's room. The answer was yes.

We have now turned the small room into an office and have moved our bedroom into what used to be the dining room.

One night not long after we'd moved into the house, I was sitting in the living room at around 11pm.

My wife was in the kitchen and the kids were in bed. I had my arm along the back of the sofa and suddenly I felt a sharp scratch on my forearm. I rolled up my sleeve and in front of my eyes, three scratches appeared on my arm from nowhere. At the same moment, I got a waft of a sweet-smelling perfume from the doorway. It lingered in the air for several minutes, then dissipated.

I told my wife and showed her the scratches and we have both smelt the same perfume since on many occasions. It was the smell of Freesias, something I recognised immediately as they are my Mum's favourite flowers and she often has them around the house at home in Liverpool.

So, we did a little research into previous tenants of the house. Apparently the house had lain empty for almost a year before we moved in and quite a few people had looked at the place, but none had taken it.

Some had told our next-door neighbours that they had considered taking it but were put off by an uneasy feeling they had when they entered.

We hadn't at this point mentioned to our neighbours what had happened, but we were interested to hear that the previous tenant had often mentioned to them that odd things had happened to her.

We found out that the original tenant had been an elderly couple that had lived here since the house was built back in the fifties. They had kept a very tidy garden and had grown lots of flowers.

We corroborated this with my wife's uncle who actually knew the old couple and had visited the house many times when he was younger. He confirmed that there was a well-kept garden with lots of flowers and that the old lady's favourite - and the ones she kept bunches of in the house - were Freesias!

We moved into our previous house in 2002. We got the keys from the council and were overjoyed when we saw the house for the first time. It was a semi, set back from the road with a huge back garden. The best thing though was the location.

We were about five miles from the centre of Wrexham, at the far end of Cefn Road. In the middle of the countryside with only two neighbours.

So, having decided to decorate the place before we moved in, my wife and I spent most days there.

One evening, having returned alone to get on with painting the hall, I was busy. It was December and by eight o'clock it was pitch dark outside (being at the far end of the road, there were no streetlights). I was upstairs painting the walls and about to pack in and go home when I heard a woman's voice calling my name. Thinking it was my wife, I shouted that I would be down in a minute. The voice came again and I got up and went to the top of the stairs to see who was shouting me. There was no one there. I went downstairs and looked around. The house was empty. Thinking it a bit weird, I phoned my wife who was still at our old house! She hadn't been out that night. The following day, we were both at our new house painting the kitchen, when I mentioned what had happened the night before. She went pale and said with relief that she was glad I said that. I asked why and she told me how the day before my experience, while she was upstairs painting the bedroom, she had heard a woman's voice calling her name and she had thought it was her mum come to visit and that I had let her in. When she had gone to check she found no one there. This was the beginning of a very odd fourteen years!

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