It's behind you]: Chingle Hall is filled with B-movie spooks. But are you likely to see the headless man? Could happen, says Lyndsay Russell

Giving the public a unique chance to play Ghostbusters, Britain's 'most haunted house', Chingle Hall (c 1260), has opened its blackened doors for overnight stays and paranormal experiences.

Set in the village of Goosnargh, Lancashire, this moated manor house boasts a reputation that makes Amityville seem like The Little House on the Prairie.

Reputedly inhabited by 16 spooks, the house is home to a Lady in Black, a Weeping Child and a Headless Man. During the night, 'happenings', according to owner John Bruce, occur nine times out of ten (though a paranormal event could be something as minor as your camera jamming or the sensation of a sudden 'cold spot').

Recruiting four sceptical friends, I set off with a carload of thermometers, cameras, tape recorders and crucifixes.

'I wouldn't be staying there if I were you . . .' Like extras from Elstree, Goosnargh's pub locals all knew Chingle Hall. Not due at the house until nine o'clock, someone had suggested a Last Supper. Unable to find The Severed Arms we settled on The Bushell.

One villager warned that the house had always had a fearsome reputation and had stood empty for two years before John Bruce bought it in 1986. 'God no, I'd never stay there, it's haunted by monks,' said another local. Gulping simultaneously, all five of us ordered the garlic mushrooms.

The small manor stood pale and unassuming in the moonlight. We crossed the drawbridge and approached an ancient iron-studded door. 'Welcome,' greeted bushy-eyebrowed John Bruce.

Our guides for the night were Dorothy and Winnie. They would be sleeping within screaming distance should we need them. The four rooms under investigation were bare of furniture, the chapel in particular with its cold flagstone floor and solitary cross.

Dorothy, a spiritualist, pointed out the window where she'd first seen a monk. Next, the corridor where mysterious tilting floorboards have been known to fling people headlong.

Then it was into the room where John Wall was born in 1620. 'He grew up to be a Catholic priest during the Elizabethan persecutions and Chingle Hall became a centre for secret mass.' Dorothy showed us a priest hole in the next room.

Martyred in 1679, Wall was taken to a convent in France, though his head is rumoured to have been returned and hidden at the manor. 'In this room, glowing white lights have been known to dance across the walls . . . I've seen them,' whispered Dorothy.

Keeping the others in eye-shot, I wandered a few yards away to peek at the adjoining chapel in search of a good photo-opportunity. Just then, a low, throaty moan came from behind my ear. Saying nothing to alert the others, I beckoned to Joanne, the most sceptical of the group, to come over. Could she hear anything? She blanched and walked out of the chapel. Later, she confessed that she'd heard a sad moan, perhaps a woman's sigh.

But by four in the morning, there wasn't much more to report and everyone had become blase. 'Quick] Is there a cold spot over there?' 'Damn. I need somewhere to stick the beer.' We told ghost stories, diminished the off-licence supplies and generally behaved like teenagers in a B-movie.

Someone read the visitors' book. Entries ranged from 'I snored right through' to 'Incredible night, footsteps, white mist in porch . . .'.

Best entry, though, must go to the guest who wrote 'I heard Elvis Presley sing 'Crying In The Chapel'.'

Chingle Hall, Goosnargh, Lancashire (0772 861082)

(Photograph omitted)