The Haunting of Bladder Hall

Douglas Bladder-Warwick here again, chaps.

This week, Maggie, dear old thing, has asked me to investigate a series of strange happenings at Bladder Hall.

For those of you yet to visit us, Bladder Hall is remote and ancient, set deep in the rain swept countryside of Darkest Cumbria. And when the nights draw in those inexplicable little incidents that we normally dismiss can begin to play on the minds of sensitive creatures like Maggie.

So I donned my deerstalker, grabbed my sword stick and set out to investigate if there was indeed something supernatural at Bladder Hall.

The Vanishing Gin

The first thing Maggie had complained of was the gin disappearing from the bottle in the Small Study. She said she’d noticed the bottle was full on Monday morning but by tea time the same day it was almost empty. We hadn’t had visitors, it was Mrs Boothby’s day off and Maggie knew she hadn’t had any. Stranger still was that the accompanying bottle of tonic was untouched and none of the glasses appeared to have been used. Whatever it was, drank straight from the bottle…

So I put out a full bottle of Bladder Hall’s own recipe gin - Bottomless Tarn which is available from bladdered.com in two, three or five litre bottles - concealed myself behind the panelling and settled down to wait and watch.

The Noise in the Attic

I soon got rather hot in the old deerstalker so had a quick swig of gin to cool down. Then the cramp got me and I found that a tot of the old Bottomless relieved it a treat…

But Maggie had also asked me to investigate another unexplained occurrence. She had heard blasts of loud pop music coming from the attic but on investigation had found all in darkness. No one goes up to the attics at Bladder Hall generally, other than Mrs Boothby on one of spider culls, but her musical preference is exclusively for military bands.

I didn’t like to say to Maggie that I knew exactly where the music was coming from without moving from my perch in the Small Study. Totty Grunt-Wittering, keen to develop her new workout video in private, has been practising in the farthest attic whenever she’s not helping me in the greenhouse.

Once her routine is perfected, which she tells me is anytime soon, she’s planning to put a clip of the Top Totty Work Out on ToffTok - that’s apparently a social media app where posh people post short videos of themselves doing amusing things to music - shoplifting at Harrods, shooting speed cameras, tequila slamming at Glyndebourne - you get the idea.

Anyway, Totty really is in great shape so be sure to have a look on ToffTok soon.

The Poltergeist in the Long Library

Maggie had also alerted me to three shelves in the Very Long Library where the books had apparently been thrown to the floor by an unquiet spirit. This phenomenon required me to actually totter over to have a look, so I fortified myself with another bracer before setting off…

It turned out that the books concerned were my leather bound copies of Exchange and Mart. What Maggie hadn’t noticed was that these had been replaced by a few rather scratty copies of The Socialist Worker.

So, there was no mystery there. This was clearly the work of Mrs Boothby, our militant housekeeper.

I always think that the best thing to do with revolutionaries, or anyone else with ideas for that matter, is to ignore them completely. Just so long as Mrs Boothby doesn’t interfere with my back copies of the Beano or there will be trouble.

The Thing in the Cellar

Having established there was no poltergeist in the Very Long Library, I rewarded myself with another large one from the Small Study and set out to tackle the next thing on Maggie’s list - The Thing in the Cellar.

Now this really was a mystery.

Maggie had noticed that something the size of beer barrel covered in an old horse rug had appeared in the farthest corner of the farthest cellar. Now Maggie would normally have ripped off the blanket herself but when she had approached there had been a strange humming sound and through the blanket she had seen the wink of what to her seemed to be two glowing red eyes.

Having established that Maggie’s description was entirely accurate with a quick preliminary visit, I retreated to the Small Study and formulated a plan. I had a swift glug of gin to steady the nerves, unsheathed my sword stick and descended once more to the cellar.

You will understand my confusion when I found non other that Totty Grunt-Wittering sitting in the cellar grinning like one of my favourite sheep. I was even more confused when I saw she was sitting on The Thing itself. It turned out that the ever thoughtful old Totty had bought me an Electronic Heated Massage Chair with Rotating Balls as an early Christmas present and had hidden it in the cellar so as not to spoil the surprise.

So that is all the strange goings on at Bladder Hall explained. So after a stiffener, I’m off to tell Maggie all is well. Except for the vanishing gin. I’ve absolutely no idea who or what is drinking that…

Chin up, chaps.

Douglas.