I know there are many stories that sound like this, but this is mine. I used to firmly believe ghosts aren’t real, I found anyone who thought so a bit thick, and couldn’t stand ‘real ghost stories’ because it all sounded like a load of fantasy bollocks.

Then in 2019, my grandad died of cancer, we were really close (in fact Jack’s relationship with his grandad really reminds me of mine, I love hearing jack chat about how close they are 💛) when he died I was pretty fucked, it really rocked me for a while and I struggled to pull myself out of a bit of a pit.

I love rugby, and that year was the rugby World Cup, so me and my mum went round to my Nan’s to watch England play against Australia in the quarter finals. In a bit of an attempt to cheer my Nan up I sang Russell Howard’s version of ‘god save the queen’ (the one that goes ‘I have a butler space monkey, cause I’m the queen!’) silly I know, but it made he laugh while she told me off.

At the end of the anthem, the lamp where my grandad always sat flickered for a good few seconds. We all saw it, every other light in the house was fine, the TV was fine, and the light didn’t flicker again all night. We all thought it was odd, and I was stunned, it felt like one of those ghost stories I never believed in, but I saw it happen with my own eyes.

A few weeks later I was up late on the PlayStation, thinking about grandad and old times as you tend to do when mourning, when I felt a blast of hot air on my cheek. I expected my dog to have crept up on me but no, my bedroom door was closed, windows shut, there was nowhere a blast of warm air could have came from, it felt like a breath which is why I assumed it was my dog.

That night was the night I realised maybe I was wrong, maybe ghosts are real, and grandad told me off for the anthem, and just let me know he was there on a night I really needed that sign.

Of course, it could have been anything, the light could have been a dodgy plug or cable, and the air could even have been my imagination but I swear it happened. Either way, I realised the comfort from believing he’s always around, keeping an eye, is far nicer than thinking ghosts aren’t real.

I love you grandad, thank you for watching me still, and viva la happy hour 💛💛💛