There were long passageways, with flaking paintwork and inadequate lighting and it didn't need much imagination to visualise ghoolies and ghosties patrolling the house. Or... DI Sonny Russell's adversities plotting and planning against him.
Even spookier were the cellars. These passages were barely lit by overhead openings, made even dimmer by weed growth. Down here I could imagine smugglers, with blackened faces and calloused hands, rolling barrels of contraband brandy and carrying boxes of who knows what illicit substances to unknown destinations. Lots of fodder for a writers pen.
Calke is a wonderful place. We've visited many times. I love that the Trust has not restored it to its former glory, instead choosing to preserve in place. I used the stable courtyards, and the kitchen garden buildings and glass houses, as my inspiration for my O-14 estate railway plans... Quite what the reclusive last owner would have made of it I don't know (he refused to allow visitors to approach the house in a motor-car; they had to swap to horse-drawn coach at the gate-house!)
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