It's incredibly middle-class to worry about ghosts

Also, Dennis in the cone of shame, a life-changing hack regarding AirPods, and what is the 'right' age to get married, anyway?

Anyone after a Grade-II, 10-bedroom house in West Sussex with an indoor and outdoor pool, plus a tennis court and a helipad? Go on, it’s only £6m. And you may be able to haggle a bit because its owner, Nicholas Sutton, is having trouble shifting the place. He’s blaming Adele for saying it’s haunted.

Doesn’t look that spooky, does it? Lovely lawn for croquet

Adele rented the house from poor old Mr Sutton in 2012 but only stayed there for six months and later gave an interview in which she said the house gave her the creeps. She reportedly also made her bodyguard stay there with her overnight to avoid getting freaked out. I’d love to know how a bodyguard would protect a client from a ghost - did he stick his fist through the ghost’s neck? Did he own a slime gun? Unfortunately, Adele didn’t clarify how she felt it was haunted, and Mr Sutton hasn’t either, but the house operated as a convent between 1970 and 2002 so perhaps there are a few ghostly Mother Superiors drifting about?

The thing is it’s actually very grand to live in a house or castle with ghosts. I once interviewed the Duchess of Argyll at her castle in Scotland and, as we processed up a staircase, she told me they have five ghosts. She told me this very matter-of-factly, as if she was telling me how many bathrooms they had. These ghosts include a murdered harpist, a murdered bagpiper who apparently can be heard playing from time to time in the library (quite annoying of him), and a murdered kitchen maid. The duchess wasn’t remotely alarmed by them, however, because being scared of ghosts is a tiny bit embarrassing. In fact, ‘being scared of ghosts’ could/should have been on one of Nicky Haslam’s tea towels.

Although five ghosts is nothing compared to the number at Ham House, another pile, which supposedly has 15 or 16 ghosts, including the ghost of a duchess, the ghost of a heartbroken manservant who fell in love with a lady’s maid and subsequently leapt from an upstairs window when she jilted him, plus the ghost of a King Charles Cavalier. INCREDIBLY posh to have somewhere that doesn’t just have human ghosts but dog ghosts too. The staff supposedly still say ‘Good morning, your ladyship’ or ‘Good afternoon, your ladyship’ if they’re going into the duchess’s bedroom, which is probably a more sensible way to deal with ghosts than getting your bodyguard involved.

Back in Scotland, Ardgowan House is similarly riddled with ghosts but they don’t remotely upset the owners. Quite the contrary. ‘There are countless ghosts at Ardgowan,’ Lady Shaw-Stewart once merrily trilled to Tatler, ‘from bustling housekeepers to helpful chambermaids. They are charming.’ That’s the spirit. Although they also have poltergeist who causes more trouble, but even he doesn’t seem to upset the Shaw-Stewarts that much. ‘We think he's a child who can't bear to be left out,’ she explained. ‘He teases builders and tried to push the nurses who looked after my husband down the stairs. He plagues my son Ludovic and his friends by banging on the window bars and buzzing on the intercom all night.' What larks!

You could also adopt the gung-ho attitude of Francis Fulford (remember the F**king Fulfords?) who first came across the ghost of a young girl in his Tudor manor house in Devon when he was five. It was night time, she appeared on his bed, and he thought it was his sister, ‘so I tried to hit her, but my fist went straight through.' (Take note, bodyguards!) He’s seen her again, and considered another attack until he realised it was the same girl, in ‘the same nightie, with a candle in her hand and dark hair.’ So he left her alone. Quite right.

At Glamis Castle, home of the Bowes-Lyons, one of the family has previously remarked that the ghosts are ‘part of the charm’. At Chillingham Castle in Northumberland, Sir Humphrey Wakefield has been known to give ghost tours to anyone interested. Prince William wasn’t remotely perturbed when he discovered that Anmer, their house in Norfolk, was haunted by the 16th-century ghost of a Catholic priest. ‘No old hall would be complete without a ghost, would it?’ he remarked.

So if you ARE interested in Adele’s old house, don’t worry too much about the ghosts. All the aristocracy has at least one. And if you do come across an old butler or chambermaid in the night, the trick is to be very blasé, treat them as you might a family pet. ‘Oh hello, old thing. How are tricks?’

Also, according to a story I read over the weekend, ‘modern hot witch chic’ is now very much in thanks to Claudia and The Traitors. As says top stylist Caroline Baxter, ‘Claudia’s modern witch style, with dramatic black capes, floor-dragging skirts, tweeds, velvets, fingerless gloves, frilly or lacy shirts and layering oversized chunky knitwear is the perfect way to achieve age-appropriate dressing as it’s not too clingy or revealing.’ The supernatural is all the rage atm, in other words. Look, HERE are the Savills particulars for Adele’s house if you want to have a snoop. I’d worry less about the spooky nuns and more about that bath in the middle of the room, myself. But each to their own.

Pictures of the week

The label on the blue onesie says 'I just had surgery' 🥹   

I’m delighted to announce that Dennis is recovering very well after his snip last week. What a brave boy. ‘Can I have a marrow bone for my dog because he’s been neutered,’ I told the butcher on Wednesday, just before picking Dennis up from the vet. The butcher visibly shivered and quickly stepped away from the counter, saying he’d fetch a bone from out the back, although I suspect he also needed a moment to compose himself and unclench.

He came home in his cone (Dennis, not the butcher), but unfortunately worked out how to slide it off quite quickly, so the following day I went back to the vet to pick up a snazzy blue ‘recovery’ suit. This is the packet it came in. I laugh at that cat’s face every time I look at it:

Unfortunately Dennis wasn’t a huge fan of his recovery suit either, and getting him in and out of it was like trying to get a rigid toddler in and out of a snowsuit, so within a couple of days, I’d given up putting anything on him during the day, which was fine because he hasn’t seemed that bothered by his stitches. Like I said, brave boy.

Walking has been TORTURE, on the other hand, because the vet was very strict about no running and no jumping and he has to be on a lead until Friday at least, so we trudge around the park while I try to stop Dennis doing cartwheels when he spots another dog nearby. ‘Dennis, no jumping,’ I’ve said roughly 900 times in the past few days, to no effect whatsoever. Although being on the lead is maybe just as well atm because there’s an incredibly furious row brewing on the Crystal Palace Local Facebook group about whether all dogs in the park should be on leads at all times.

This was sparked by a dog called Patrick who apparently attacked another dog, which led to a cross discussion about dogs being out of control in the Crystal Palace park more generally (also, a response from one local wag who said ‘Who calls a dog Patrick???’). This led to another user posting a Facebook survey about whether dogs should be on leads at all times, and the majority replied saying yes, they should be. Someone else then chipped in saying that dogs should be forced to wear nappies at the same time, because he was sick of his trainers being ruined, whereupon a local dog user replied to him saying did he want landfill sites across the country being filled with dog nappies? This has been the mature tone of my local FB group in recent days.

All of which is why it’s probably best that Dennis is on a lead while he heals because I reckon our recall success rate hovers between 5-10 per cent, slightly more when I remember to bring a pocketful of liver cake. A work in progress, let’s say.

Recommendation of the week

I don’t mean to exaggerate but these have changed my life. Old-fashioned headphones with wire! I took the plunge and ordered a pair last week because I couldn’t find my AirPod case for the 173528th time, and there’s only the left AirPod in it these days anyway. I thought Dennis had eaten the right one, but it turns out it’s floating about somewhere in Gatwick South. I opened up that app you use to find your lost/stolen iPhone and discovered that the right AirPod has not, in fact, gone through Dennis’s stomach but is lost somewhere at the airport instead. Not sure what would be worse - going through a small terrier’s intestinal tract or spending the rest of your days at Gatwick. Rhetorical question.

Anyway, I’ve been existing with just the left AirPod for weeks, telling myself I couldn’t possibly buy another pair because they’re madly expensive and I’d almost certainly lose one or both immediately. And then I had an epiphany and realised I could just…revert to a pair of wire headphones like it was the 1980s???

So I ordered a pair for £19, legit Apple ones, which come with a mic so you can still have a phone conversation using them, and they’re REVOLUTIONARY. I don’t have to worry about whether they’re charged or not, they’re not going to run out of battery halfway through a podcast, they can live in my coat pocket and be ready to go at any time, and they’re way harder to lose. Also, no adaptor. These ones plug straight into my phone’s charging socket (USB-C, for the nerds). Obviously I spend half an hour untangling them every time I retrieve them from my pocket, but it’s worth it. It’s genuinely tragic how into them I am. I really recommend if you’re also down an AirPod or two and can’t face spending a fortune on their replacement.

PS. I just heard on Today this morning that Tetris has turned 40, which reminded me of the brilliant film, succinctly called Tetris, which came out a couple of years ago, about the game’s creation. I know, I know, how can a film about the development of a game be gripping? But it takes in the Cold War, the boom in games consoles in the 1980s and, er, Robert Maxwell, and it stars Taron Egerton who is GREAT in it. I promise it’s fascinating even if you couldn’t be less of a gamer. Trailer below. On Apple.

Nonsense Joyful thing of the week

Congratulations to Kirstie Allsopp and her new husband, Ben, who married in secret last week after 21 years and three children together. I say in secret but it wasn’t really a secret in the end, because a dastardly pap was outside the church, so she and her husband decided to release a few photos of their own to avoid someone else breaking the story.

At a time when we’re not exactly overburdened by cheerful stories in the news, this feels like one of them. At the start of their relationship, Ben apparently swore he would never marry again after his divorce, but he did say he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Kirstie, so that’s what they’ve done, only now Ben seems to have changed his mind. So, at least two decades into their relationship, they held a ceremony in the Mayfair church from Love, Actually with 70 family members and pals watching. The bride wore Oscar de la Renta, whose name always makes me flinch a bit because years ago I interviewed him and asked (as a joke) if pieces from his latest collection had been inspired by Rupert Bear. Oscar seemed quite confused by this and, an hour or so later, the fashion editor appeared at my desk with a face like a storm cloud and asked if it was true that I’d just asked one of the defining 20th-century fashion designers whether he’d been inspired by a fictional bear, because it had taken her several months for his team to say yes to the interview in the first place. Thus ended my career as a fashion journalist.

Anyway, Kirstie looked lovely, and the story reminded me about a wise friend’s theory towards weddings - that big, extravagant, expensive weddings should really only be thrown *after* a couple has been together for quite some time. Not just a few years together, but decades, this friend argues.

Throwing a massive, expensive wedding when you’ve only been together for a couple of years, he says, is like throwing a massive, expensive party before you even set foot on Everest. Reach the top of the mountain, or in this case stagger through the hurly burly of babies and children and mortgage woes and job dramas and the myriad other issues that can crop up in relationships, then throw a big party to celebrate the fact that you’ve weathered all that together, is his argument. Which is what Kirstie and Ben have done.

Having been to plenty of weddings, knowing how much people spend on weddings, I’ve thought a lot about this theory over the years. I totally get that people want to celebrate a commitment to one another in front of their family and friends. There are also any number of surveys pointing out that married couples are more likely to stick together than cohabiting couples because they made that commitment in the first place. The romantic in me just really loves the idea that you hold off anything extravagant and wait to throw that big celebration when you’ve clocked up some mileage together. Which is, of course, what ruby or gold or diamond anniversary parties are. But I still see my friend’s point - and there’s something especially jubilant about a wedding ‘in later life’ (terrible terrible phrase, sorry), isn’t there? OR am I being overly sentimental because I turn 40 next month and I’m thinking a lot about milestones at the moment?