Storyteller: Christmas ghost story - A Christmas Carol at Paignton's Palace Theatre

When I arrived in Torbay, back in 1987, straight out of drama school, it was to be part of a summer season at the Palace Avenue Theatre, Paignton.

As well as putting on productions, we ended up running the whole building, from backstage to the bar, front of house, and promotion.

It was also where I got my first taste of running a box office, an experience that put me in good stead for a career in local theatres that lasted over 30 years.

During that summer, we received lots of help from locals, who also used the venue, which proved invaluable in many ways, including telling us that the place was haunted.

As you can imagine, this piqued my interest straightaway, so I was eager to know more.

It was said that a lady in lavender was often seen roaming the building, in particular across the stage, while many people reported an unpleasant atmosphere when using some of the downstairs dressing rooms.

Most intriguing, was the sighting of a butterfly, flying around the stage during a performance. This was often seen as a good omen for the success of the current production.

Sadly, no such odd experiences were reported during our tenure there but the knowledge that it was haunted helped in the decision to set up my own paranormal investigation group once I’d become resident in Torbay.

Many years later, one of those helpful locals, called Mark, was putting on a production of A Christmas Carol at the theatre, and, knowing of my interest in all things spooky, he thought it might be a useful publicity stunt to have the local ghostbusters pictured there to help promote his show.

When he came to me with the idea, I was up for it as long as, in return, he got us access to do an investigation there beforehand, and so a deal was struck.

We were allowed to spend the night locked inside. In the morning, a local reporter would turn up to take our picture and hopefully grab a scoop about the haunted theatre.

On the allotted night, myself and two of my colleagues, Matt and Andrew, turned up with our camcorders, and an assortment of other equipment, plus refreshments, prepared to settle in for our long vigil. The reporter was not being due until around 7am.

I took up residence in the downstairs dressing room area, trying to determine what could be unsettling people down there, while the other two trained their cameras on the stage itself in an attempt to capture the Lavender Lady.

Mark had already moved his production in, so the set was in place, while I found myself surrounded by costumes and props.

Once we were set up, and monitors on, we settled in for the duration...

While I was staring intently at the screen, the silence of the building was suddenly broken by the sound of knocking, a heavy sound that echoed, a bit like that made by a doorknocker. Trying to work out where the noise was coming from, I recalled the doors in the set on the stage above.

Was this an actual knock on a door or a sound effect being used? As I tried to figure it out, the knocking was followed by footsteps, as if someone was walking across the wooden boards of the stage.

Were my friends moving around trying to work out where the knocking was coming from? I called out to them...no reply.

Before I could decide whether or not to join them, my mind was made up for me when all the costumes hanging on the racks around me started to shake and rattle as if moved by unseen hands.

It was like the ghosts of past, present and future were coming to life all at once!

Leaving them to it, I raced up the stairs and into the wings at the side of the stage. From here, I had a view of my friends monitoring their equipment. They had set up the TVs on a table, so they were facing into the auditorium with one camera pointing that way, the other towards the set behind them.

The most disturbing thing about this tableau, was that both screens were showing static, with accompanying white noise, yet the guys were still sitting there, staring at them as if mesmerised.

As I crossed the stage towards them, calling out their names and getting no response, there came another heavy knocking on the door behind me. I spun round in shock... just at that moment I became aware of my name being called, and my eyes snapped open, finding myself confronted by onscreen static and white noise.

The taping cassette in the camcorder had run out!

“David, the reporter is here, it’s time for our close up!” my friends shouted down the stairs.

As I rushed up to join them, I berated myself for having fallen asleep again, and now I had nothing to share with the reporter.

I was getting too old for these late-night vigils but at least we got our picture in the paper!