Creative Captures

The Ghosts of Pluckley

The village is nestled in the Weald of Kent, surrounded by beautiful orchards and fields of grazing sheep.

Pluckley is named in the Domesday book as Pluchelei. Activity in the village dates back to Roman times. The church, St. Nicholas, is Grade 1 listed and there are over sixty listed buildings in the parish.

In the early 1990s, the village was the setting for TV series “The Darling Buds of May”. The author, H. E. Bates lived only a few miles away.  Buss farm, in nearby Bethersden became the Larkins farm and the Black Horse pub in Pluckley became their local, the Hare and Hounds.

However, as pretty as the village undoubtedly is, it is also known as the most haunted village in Britain, earning a place in the 1989 Guiness Book of Records, with twelve different ghosts being reported. Here are some of the sightings:

The Coach & Horses

This has been spotted in various locations around the village. A lady called Peggy Theobald and her husband saw a bright light heading towards them as they drove home around midnight. As her husband slowed down, a coach and horses came into sight, with nobody on it, or riding in it. It quickly disappeared into the night.

In the mid-1990s a medium, David Morgan, sensed a vehicle along the same route. He also mentioned the ghost of a woman who had been run over by it.

The Highwayman

The ghostly highwayman is said to have been fatally stabbed during a brawl and pinned to a tree. This supposedly took place at the aptly named Fright Corner. The tree had been removed around the late sixties/early seventies, but the highwayman’s deathly cries are still said to be heard on certain nights.

The Red Lady

Lady Dering died in the 1100s and was buried in a lead coffin in St. Nicholas’ Church graveyard. Several sightings of her have been reported. She wanders around crying and howling, searching for the grave of her stillborn baby.

She is known as the Red Lady because a single red rose was laid on top of her grave after she was buried.

Gypsy Ghost

The unnamed woman always appears on a bridge in the village, sitting down smoking her pipe and surround by a haze.

She made a living by selling watercress that she got from the stream. Known to be a heavy drinker and smoker, one day she dropped her pipe and with a spark from that and the alcohol fumes, ignited the rags she wore for clothing and she literally went up in flames. Her charred remains were discovered the following day.

The Schoolmaster

The ghost of a schoolmaster who took his own life is said to haunt Dicky Buss Lane. Some children, on their way to school, discovered his body, which was hanging from a tree.        

Local villagers cut him down and took his body away. He was not a local man but is still said to be seen on occasions swaying from a tree.

Screaming Man

There used to be a brickworks in the village. Many years ago, a worker fell into one of the clay holes, in what appeared to be a tragic accident.

People have claimed they still occasionally hear the screams of the man, who was crushed to death by a wall of clay.

The Tudor Lady & The Reclusive Cleric

Rose Court in Pluckley is a Grade II listed building. It is also said to be haunted by the Tudor Lady, who is believed to have poisoned herself with a cocktail of juices made up of Ivy and other poisonous berries. She lived there with her dogs.

She apparently died by a window, looking towards another property, Greystones, which was inhabited be the cleric. The two were thought to be lovers. The cleric is said to have died from a broken heart after the supposed suicide of the Tudor Lady.

His ghost was last seen by an American Journalist in 1989, who saw the figure drifting behind the house.

However, the Tudor Lady has been known to move things around the house at Rose Court. It has also been reported that her voice is often heard calling her dogs, as she walks between the two properties.

Black Horse Pub

The 15^th century building sits in the high street and boasts stunning views and several footpaths leading to the orchards.

Many ghosts are thought to haunt the pub, with different sightings by staff and customers alike. Many of the different owners have had items of clothing go missing over the years and there is thought to be the presence of a child around the bar area.

Beer glasses have been known to move on their own, as well as cutlery in the restaurant. Some owners who have had pet dogs in the past say there’s a room upstairs that the dogs would refuse to enter.

Summary

I guess we’ll never know for certain how many ghosts, if any at all, are in the village of Pluckley. But there are many people who visit Pluckley – it’s especially busy on Halloween – in the hope of seeing a ghostly figure or two. You can even book to go on a Pluckley ghost walk.

In fact, back in the 1970s, the then rector, Reverend John Pittock, allowed a group of psychic researchers to stay in St. Nicholas Church overnight.

They were armed with cameras, tape recorders and other equipment in the hope of capturing something.

 The following morning, they expressed their immense disappointment to Reverend Pittock when he went to see them. They were bored for most of the night, with nothing out of the ordinary to report. They told him the only thing that kept them entertained was the constant visits from his dog.

              “Actually,” the vicar replied. “I don’t have a dog.”

Wimbledon – The Centre Court Of Tennis

A hot summer’s day in June, a sixteen thousand capacity centre court crowd waiting in anticipation for the Men’s Singles Champion of the previous year to make his entrance and step onto the lush green court, where ball boys and girls wait with military precision for the players to arrive.  The crowd erupts as the two players appear and after a five-minute warm up the umpire asks: “are you ready to play?” Off we go for another two weeks of high drama, exhilarating tennis, upsets, comebacks, with each player fighting like a gladiator to try and claim the most coveted prize in tennis.

Thousands flock to Wimbledon every year to soak up the atmosphere. Many people queue overnight to get the best seats on centre court. As you walk along the queue you can see an array of colour; the sleeping bags, tents, camp beds, varying shades of blues, greens, yellows, in fact every colour imaginable can be seen. When it rains the umbrellas go up as one to form something resembling a multi-coloured patchwork quilt.  Then the rain stops and as the sun peeps shyly through the clouds you can see the optimism on the spectators’ faces – they might even see a full day’s play today!

There is always something going on in the queue; you can never be bored. The place is buzzing by 7am with newspaper sellers, souvenir sellers, food sellers, all being sold at inflated prices and when you wash the tee-shirts they stretch so much you can use them as a tent the following year. Then comes the dreaded ticket tout: cockney, wide-eyed boys with mobile phones seemingly super-glued to one ear and eyes always on the look-out for some unsuspecting tourist with more money than sense, sometimes playing ten times the face value of the ticket for a centre court seat.

Once inside Wimbledon, you do not know where to visit first: Aorangi Park where there are various marquees selling food seemingly from every nation, judging by the aroma as you walk past; the souvenir shop is always popular, especially the crisp white polo shirts with the Wimbledon logo printed on them. The parties of schoolchildren clamour for the cheaper items such as pens, erasers, badges and colour postcards of the better-known players. Then there is the Pimm’s bar, an obvious attraction for the middle-class spectators. Far and away, the most popular attraction, apart from the tennis, is the strawberries and cream served in little white disposable tubs, absolutely delicious.

The tennis on the outside courts starts at noon and you can wander around watching the unknowns and all trying to make a name for themselves. You can get really close to the action and hear the pounding of the player’s footsteps as they chase around the court and the ping as the ball leaves the racket. The players have to wear predominately white outfits that make them stand out against the newly mown pristine grass court. The outside courts are quite close together and you can sometimes hear the ripple of applause from the crowd watching on the adjacent court.  Some people stay in the same spot all day and when it is really hot you can see their faces redden as the day progresses, even though they apply sun cream at regular intervals.

Wimbledon has a museum that is open all year round and if you visit in the winter, which I have done, there is a stark contrast. No marquees, no hustle and bustle of the crowd; the place is eerily quiet.  You can look out onto the centre court and see the emptiness, just rows and rows of empty green seats and a desolate court. If you close your eyes you can imagine it being full and hear the umpire instruct the ball boys and girls “New balls please.” Then you open your eyes and realise how important Wimbledon actually is, for the British public, for tourists, the participants. It really has become a British institution, where crowds and players alike converge every year, even though we all know it is bound to rain for most of the fortnight!

I think Wimbledon is about people who try, even if they lose, because everyone loves a trier, especially if they are British, It is really summed up by a verse from Rudyard Kipling, which is written above the door of the dressing room on centre court: “If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat those two impostors just the same.”

I couldn’t resist any longer! I had to write about my beautiful fur babies.

Welcome, Charlie Love-heart!

Back in the summer of 2018, we were at the vet with our poorly fur baby Suzi Q. She had been ill for a while after being diagnosed with feline Triaditis and was having her regular check-up with wonderful vet Ivan when he got called away to deal with an emergency in the operating theatre.

Twenty minutes later he returned and explained that a lady recently brought in a kitten that she’d found at the roadside. The injuries were so serious, he was in surgery having his back left leg amputated, and they couldn’t stop the artery bleeding. He also suffered a bad reaction to the anaesthetic but was still alive and fighting. He was approximately four weeks old.

We were upset by this, as any animal lover would be, and I remember just blurting out ‘will he be up for adoption when he’s recovered?’ Ivan said yes, most probably, if he pulls through. I knew at that moment that he would survive, and I also knew we would be giving him his forever home. We had another cat, Bosley, who needed another young cat for company and this kitten seemed perfect.

A week later we were back with Suzi Q and asked after him. To our surprise, they brought him into the room so we could meet him. He was the most beautiful little kitten, tabby and white, with the biggest eyes that melted your heart, but he looked helpless, with the tiniest cone I’d ever seen around his neck to stop him getting to his

stitches and a dressing on another wound on his right side, which was infested with maggots, but had been cleaned and was healing well. He had been named Fez by the brilliant staff and they pointed out a little black heart on his nose. They also said that a staff member’s brother was interested in adopting him. I was disappointed as I wanted him so much, even more so after meeting him. 

On our next visit to collect medication for Suzi Q, we met Fez again and boy, had he grown! He was almost ready for his first home, and we were surprised to hear things had changed and we may be able to adopt him after all.

A phone call from the vet two days later confirmed what we had hoped and prayed for – he was ours if we wanted him and they couldn’t think of anyone better than us to give him a loving home. We were excited and scared – we’d never had a disabled animal before, but we were determined to make it work and we had so much love to give him.

We changed his name to Charlie, and after buying the extra things we needed for him, he was officially adopted on the 1st of August.

As he was still recovering from his injuries, we kept him in another room away from our boisterous Bosley – even though he was desperate to meet his new brother! Our new arrival was such a scared little boy and hid at the back of his igloo cat bed, only popping his head out when he thought no one was watching. He hadn’t even been in his litter tray overnight. We contacted the vet and had to take him to be checked over. To our relief, he was fine, but we had to keep a close watch on him. Thankfully, a couple of hours later he had been in his tray.

Suzi Q and Charlie accepted each other straight away, which was wonderful as she was an older cat and needed her space and he never bothered her once.

After a few days Charlie had gained more confidence, so we brought his cage downstairs but still kept him and Bosley apart. We had to ensure Charlie had plenty of rest and quiet. It was comical seeing them both on either side of the cage; it was obvious both wanted to get closer and check each other out. Bosley would lay on top of the cage and put his paw through a gap in the wire and Charlie would stretch up and try to touch the paw.

Later that day, our friend came to see Charlie for the first time. He was so friendly and laid on her lap for ages, purring loudly, totally content. Bosley took the opportunity to investigate the inside of the cage, and pinch Charlie’s dinner!

After a while, Charlie sat up, saw Bosley on the floor, and quickly jumped down next to him. We panicked, with Bosley being a bit older and bigger, that he might hurt his brother, but we needn’t have worried. After checking each other out, Charlie went to his cage and Bosley followed him. Before too long they were both fast asleep.

They became closer every day and as Charlie got stronger, they were soon chasing each other around the house and often curled up together to sleep. Eventually, we could feed the three of them together. Charlie growled if the other two went near his food, but that didn’t last long and they soon ate out of each other’s bowls. We sadly lost Suzi Q in December of that year and still miss her terribly.

Fast forward almost seven years to 2025 and we had our hearts broken once again. We lost our precious Bosley after he developed tumours in his chest. So Charlie was on his own for the first time in his life. Later that year we adopted two rescue kittens, Buddy and Lexie, who are brother and sister. We were worried about how Charlie would react to them and were warned by the RSPCA that it could take a long time for him to accept the kittens. It took two days! The three of them have bonded so well and the kittens adore their big brother.

Despites Charlie’s terrible start in life, he is such a lovable boy, and you would never know he had a disability. When he goes back to the vet for his yearly booster and check-up, he hides under his blanket in his cat carrier. I always wonder if he thinks we’re going to leave him there. There is no chance of that. The day we adopted him he had his forever home and he and the kittens are loved very much.

It was fate that brought Charlie love-heart into our lives, and we’ll always be forever grateful that we were able to adopt him.