My dad is awesome! Stoic, trustworthy and reliable, with a great sense of humour, he is not a man given to being overly emotional or to having fanciful notions. It’s for these reasons that, when he told me the story of the sugar bowl incident, I didn’t question it one jot because I know – if that’s what happened, that’s what happened.
When someone sceptical about ghosts and the paranormal tells me a ghost story they can’t explain, it always interests me more. They will always look to explain the situation away before thinking it is due to ghostly goings-on. If, after looking at their experience pragmatically, they still can’t explain what happened, I feel it gives the story more credibility.
My dad was a policeman in London for over 30 years, back in the days when The Sweeney was (according to my dad) very realistic of the real-life ‘you’re nicked sunshine’ style of policing which is now long gone. These were the days of crazy bouffant-style hair and 70s leather jackets from ‘down the market’, when coopers raced around in their Ford Cortinas chasing the robbers. But, super-cop you may be – once in a while you need the odd break from the bad guys for a cuppa. This story goes like this:
Notting Hill Police Station Ghost Story
Told to me by my dad, Trevor Heard:
Back in the late 70s I was based at Notting Hill Police Station as a Detective Constable. The front office and cells were on the ground floor, CID Office and senior officers located on the first floor and the second floor had the most important part of the building, the canteen! It was very small, like a loft conversion, with a few tables and chairs and a serving counter.
I stood at the counter and ordered a mug of tea from the canteen assistant. A large bowl of sugar was on the counter, next to a mug with teaspoons in it. I stood looking out of the window whilst my tea was being made with hot water from an old chrome kettle. The assistant had her back to the counter. Suddenly there was a loud bang from the counter and the assistant and myself turned around at the same time to see the upturned bowl of sugar. The bowl was upside down, full and not a grain of sugar was spilt. Every bit was contained within it. We both laughed nervously and I turned the bowl back-up. Gravity took over, the sugar spread over the counter.
This incident could not be explained. The bowl was not capable of tipping over and there was nobody nearby to touch it or knock it. We could only shrug our shoulders and carry on. Looking back, I could have researched the history of the building but never did. I wonder if someone, somewhere, was telling me to cut my sugar intake!!
If you can shed anymore light on the Notting Hill Police Station ghost please contact me. I’d love to know if anything else happened there!
It’s not a long story this time – many ghost stories aren’t. They are a one-off experience, simply a snip of time. But they deserve their place here as much as the longer, ongoing stories. All weirdness is welcome here!
Have you got a ghost story you would be happy to share? Get in touch– I’d love to hear it!