One morning I was up early to see my husband off to work, as was my habit back when we were newlyweds. We lived in a lovely secluded beach house in the scrub with vaulted ceilings and huge glass walls. We had no neighbours most of the time, as the area was heavily weighted towards holiday homes, and his children were not with us during the week. So it was just the two of us.
It was hardly light out as he left for work at 5.30am, but I kissed him goodbye at the back door and he headed to the garage and left for the day. Then I walked back into the house, closed the door behind me, and went to get a drink from the fridge to take back to bed. It was then that the very distinctive sound of an electric doorbell, playing the Big Ben chime, resonated through the house.
"Ding dong ding dong, ding dong ding dong..."
It was way too early for a visitor but I still looked across the room towards the front door. Which was a bit daft because we didn't actually have a doorbell.
Yes, the noise was absolutely in the room, not coming from outside.
No, I couldn't find a single thing in the house with the capacity to make that noise. And I really did search, through the kids stuff and everything (they were all early teens anyway, not prone to musical toys any longer).
On another occasion, in the same house, my husband and I were standing on the back patio laughing about something, about to go inside for the night, when there was a bright blue-white flash inside the house. Almost exactly like a flash bulb had gone off. We both looked at each other like 'what the?' and went inside to investigate, but found no cause. No smell of burning, no potential flash point, no errant camera suddenly finding its final micrometer of battery power.
Not scary, either one, but curious.