04 June 2015 | June 2015
We were touring the west coast of Scotland for a day or two. We had set out from Glasgow that morning and fully intended to go back there that night but the day had been fun with lots to see and do and so by the time we entered Inverary it was already quite late. In fact, we had already visited Inverary jail that morning before motoring a bit further up the coastline so the idea of staying the night there seemed a good one and would give us more time to look around.
In the end we settled on the George in the main street and booked two rooms. My ex-wife and twin boys were allocated one room while my elder son and I would take the other. The twins were very taken with their room and excitedly showed me the oak paneling, portraits on the walls, four poster bed complete with heavy curtains and the quaint but airy bathroom en suite that had an old fashioned bath on four legs. They thought it a great and funny room. I didn’t like it. Not at all. I was relived to be sleeping down the hall in the more modern part of the Hotel. Our room was normal with two side-by-side single beds separated by a small table and lamp.
By this time in my life, I had things more or less under control. It had been a long time since anything really strange had occurred and at times, I rather missed that. That night however, especially in that room, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up and a shiver went down my spine. I put it down to a draft at least initially.
We ordered dinner in the bar and enjoyed a couple of beers too. We couldn’t really make it late because the twins were still fairly small and tired early in the evening. Reluctantly, it was soon time to go to bed and off we all went up the staircase accordingly. Given my earlier discomfort and sixth sense that not all was quite normal with the hotel, I was uncomfortable.
I slept like a log. Really, I did. Nothing happened at all. I was relieved. At breakfast, I remarked that my ex-wife looked like she had had a bad night. She glared at me over tea and toast and said, “You have no idea!” The twins nodded in unison.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Dad, there was an old man, a nasty old man in our room,” said one of the twins.
“Really?” I asked.
Apparently, they had got into the four-poster bed and switched on the TV. After as short while, they switched out the lights and although all was OK until after they slept, my ex-wife said that she felt like someone was watching her. Later they were woken by the bedclothes being pulled from the bed and one of the twins swore that there was an old man in the room that didn’t want them there. Noises and unexplained bangs occurred throughout the night and eventually our son pointed at a portrait that was dimly visible on the wall and said – “Its that man, Mummy.”
The portrait removed from the wall and turned to face it, they tried the best they could to sleep with the lights on. It wasn’t much of a night’s sleep for any of them by all accounts. There was an ‘old man’ odor in the room too I was told.
For once, it wasn’t me that experienced bizarre things. None the less, I had known there was something about that room and I had said nothing. Not that it would have made any difference I suppose.
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