TWISTED TALES

This is a collection of short stories from one of the most haunted counties in England. My family have always lived here and have been storytellers for as far back as I can remember.

After all that scandal with the vicar, the village jaws had only just settled down to eating again. At last there was peace in the village, that’s when it happened.

Way back then on a Saturday night the local diggers, rakers and fishermen would gather in the smoky back room of the Red Lion. After a few pints some of them might be persuaded to tell stories of the legends of the marsh. There were always tales of the big black ghost dog and occasionally something even more frightening. As the candle light flickered on the weathered faces, and outside on the marsh the wind howled over the dancing reeds, the tales would start and it was usually Little Bertie who would begin them.

“I know it’s out there, my father told me about it and he never told a lie in his life. And more than that his father told him. It was years ago that my grandad and young Filbert Goosgog found the dreadful remains.”