Scrolling through the website, I kept a lookout for properties in south Liverpool. I was currently living in the north of the city, but my house was too small and too far away from my parents.
With my two-year-old daughter, Poppy, I needed all the support I could get, so I decided to have a look for a new place in their area.
A friend had recommended a website that helped people swap their council houses, and eventually I found a two-bed property that looked perfect.
It’s like it was meant to be, I thought.
But just before I moved in, Poppy’s dad left me. I was heartbroken, yet I stayed strong, determined to make sure everything worked out.
Not long after I moved into my new home, I noticed how unusually chilly it was inside.
One morning we had a visit from an electrician.
‘The houses on this street are great,’ he said, getting to work. ‘Isn’t it amazing how warm they always are?’
‘Ours isn’t!’ I said, laughing. I was puzzled, but thought no more about it.
Around a year after we moved in, I was chatting with my new boyfriend, Terry, in the living room.
Poppy had been playing with her toys in the hallway.
Glancing up from my conversation, I saw she was looking up the stairs.
As I watched, she smiled shyly and blew a kiss. A prickle of unease went up my spine.
‘Poppy, come here,’ I said. ‘Who were you talking to?’
She tilted her head to one side. ‘I don’t know who it is,’ she said eventually.
‘Was it a man like me?’ asked Terry. ‘Or a woman like Mummy?’
‘It’s a little girl,’ said Poppy.
Something about the incident really unsettled me, and I ended up posting a video about it online.
I was staggered by the response I got, but almost everyone advised the same thing.
See if you can find out anything about the history of the house…
So I made a post on a local Facebook group.
Does anyone know anything about this road or my house in particular? I typed.
When I checked back, I’d had several responses.
That road has a reputation for supernatural activity, one man wrote.
Another woman’s comment chilled me to the bone. We used to live a few doors up from you. I remember my brother used to speak to a little girl on the stairs none of us could see.
Then, one afternoon, there was a knock at the door. There was a woman outside who introduced herself as Ann.*
‘Sorry to intrude,’ she said. ‘But are you the lady whose daughter has been speaking to a little girl at the top of the stairs?’
‘Yes,’ I said, warily.
‘I saw your post online and think it could be my daughter,’ she said.
‘We used to live next door. She passed away at six years old from leukaemia. Today would have been her 50th birthday.’
I felt cold all over. Was that who Poppy had been talking to?
‘Could I possibly come in and speak to your daughter?’ she asked.
Though I was nervous, I agreed.
I let her in and she bent down next to Poppy.
‘Have you been speaking to my little girl?’ she asked her.
Poppy was a bit overwhelmed, and mostly focused on her doll.
‘I’m sorry she couldn’t help more,’ I said anxiously.
‘It’s all right,’ said Ann. ‘It makes me happy knowing Catherine* is still here, helping to protect your family.’
And I was convinced she was right – the spirit in the house did feel like a positive one.
Before I moved in, I had been at a real low point in my life.
Poppy’s dad had just left me, I was struggling to find work, and I was battling anxiety and depression.
But since moving in, I’d fallen in love again, found my dream job as a music teacher, and I’d never been happier.
Perhaps I was a bit nervier than I used to be – I always turn the lights on if I go to the toilet at night now. But I don’t really think I need to be afraid.
Recently, I stood by myself in the hallway of the house. Taking a deep breath, I plunged ahead.
‘If anyone is here, you’re welcome to stay, so long as you’re kind and don’t harm us,’ I said.
It might be unusual, sharing a house with a ghost. But I think we’re all learning to get along together.
To see more updates on Beth’s experiences, follow her on Tiktok at @justlivingmybethlife
*Ann and Catherine’s names have been changed.