and find peace.
‘I was being prodded in the back all the time this was going on and I didn’t like to say anything, as I didn’t want to disturb Derek… I thought it was the cameraman, to tell me to move, then I realized that he was standing on the wrong side of me, so it couldn’t possibly have been him.’
Carol Rogers
This experience had been harrowing to me as a medium, but I left Via Mystica knowing that although terrible things had happened nearby in the past, the shop itself was a peaceful place. It will always have spirits there, moving in and out of the vortex, but most of them will be lovely souls just passing through.
‘When Derek came to the shop it was a wonderful experience… We were very, very impressed by what he found for us.’
Jean Webb
‘The brewery is definitely haunted and from the stories I’ve been told and the feelings I get I think the ghosts are definitely malevolent. I think they’re quite nasty.’
Mark Stiff
Faversham Brewery is a important part of the town. Built on the site of a former monastery, over the years it has been a major employer, but many people came to the Ghost Truck to tell us that they would not set foot in it because of the dark spirits said to lurk there.
One current employee, Mark, a down-to-earth man with flowing locks, offered to show us around. Danniella, Angus and I couldn’t wait.
‘Faversham’s famous for its brewery and loads of people coming to the truck were telling us about the experiences that they had had there, but they were too scared to go back and investigate, so we were thrilled when Mark said that he would.’
Natalie
As we were in the Ghost Car travelling towards the brewery, I started to get a feeling of apprehension. By the time we arrived, it had turned to dread.
At the brewery we met up with Mark and as we made our way through the twisting brick corridors to the malt kiln, I was immediately aware of a group of monks walking four or five deep. Sam told me that they were Benedictines. These spirits were roaming all over the brewery, concerned about a lost soul.
The local historian’s view
‘There was a Faversham Abbey, of course, which was a Benedictine abbey. He was spot on there.’
Dr Arthur Percival
At that point Danniella decided that as the brewery was so large it might be a good idea to leave Angus in the malt kiln and take me to a different part of the brewery to see if I could pick up the story better elsewhere.
‘Am I on my own here?’asked Angus nervously. ‘Just don’t close the door then!’
We told him all he had to do was holler and we would come back to him. Danniella left him with a camera and we walked off.
‘I’m not very keen on being in the dark – which is something I wasn’t really that aware of until I started working with Derek. But in the dark I just lose my coordination. I suffer from claustrophobia too. And though the night-vision cameras show quite clearly what’s happening, we really can’t see at all.’
Angus
‘The malt kiln room, the room we left Angus in, was horrible. It was dark, it was dense, it was wet, it was horrible – just a horrible room! Very, very dark-you couldn’t see a thing in front of you. It didn’t have a good feeling to it at all.’
Danniella
But it wasn’t long before Danniella was having her own problems. As we followed Mark through the brewery and across an area where bags of grain were piled up, she asked worriedly, ‘This isn’t the place with the rats, is it?’
‘No,’ he reassured her, ‘it’s just the place with the mice.’
‘Oh no, don’t say that!’
As we carried on walking, I saw something. ‘Oh yes, there are a few of them here, a couple just ran across there, look!’
‘Shut up!’ Danniella wailed. She stood stock still.
‘Look, there were only a couple of them, Danniella, a couple of them just ran across.’
‘No! I’m goin’! I’m out of here!’
‘They were just running, they weren’t jumping.’
‘No, I’m out of here! Honestly! I don’t do mice! Or rats!’
She turned away and wouldn’t go on.
‘Derek, please, you go.’
‘Look, you just hold my hand…’
‘No, you go, just go.’ She stood still and wouldn’t move. ‘I don’t do mice!’ she repeated. She put her hands up to her face. ‘I can’t, I can’t do it.’
It took quite a lot of persuading before she finally allowed me to take her hand and lead her forward. Huddling in her coat, with her eyes firmly shut, her head down and her other hand over her eyes, she followed me through the area with the grain and into the malt silos, where we were safe from mice. I did feel sorry for her, but I couldn’t help but feel just a tiny bit amused that in a brewery full of spirits, what bothered Danniella was a couple of small furry animals!
In the malt silo I was soon picking up the energies of a spirit man. I could feel that he was being engulfed by something and was having problems with his breathing, but I didn’t know what was around him at first – it wasn’t water, but what was it? Something was raining down on him from above, suffocating him. I tried to understand what was happening to this man. One thing I knew for sure was that he wasn’t in visitation: he was trapped.
I asked him to come forward and tell us who he was.
Almost straightaway Sam gave me his name: Edward Stimpson.
Then we asked his age. Sam told me that he was 26 years old. Then I knew what had happened! He had been testing the grain when he had slipped, overbalanced and fallen in.
As I related this to Mark and Danniella, we heard a plopping sound in an area behind us. I asked whether it could be some kind of machinery, but Mark said no, there was nothing there. Was it Edward Stimpson communicating with us? We decided to move towards the area where we’d heard the noise.
I reminded the spirit that we were his friends and respected him. Then I suggested he make a noise above us.
‘There
