Welcome to Haunted Wirral, a feature series written by world famous psychic researcher Tom Slemen, for the Globe.

In this latest story, Tom explores the mystery of toy farm...

There was an amazing case of a woman coming back from the dead at Wallasey’s Victoria Central Hospital in April 1972.

Mrs Ruth Young, a 36-year-old mother-of-two from Tudor Avenue, Wallasey, had fallen off the platform of a bus as she had tried to save her two-year-old son Craig, after he had fallen down the steps of the double-decker.

Craig escaped with grazes but Ruth sustained a broken skull and after she was rushed to hospital she was eventually declared dead.

Ruth was hooked up to a heart-beat monitor known as a cardiorate which was left on for a while – just in case it picked up any heart activity.

A whole day went past, and still there was no activity, and then, out of the blue, the cardiorate’s sensor picked up very faint signals coming from the heart.

Doctors immediately leapt into action and Ruth Young was resuscitated – literally brought back from the dead.

In July 1973, another woman – Jasmine Jones, a 22-year-old Liverpool teacher, collapsed in her doctor’s one afternoon after complaining of a strange lethargy that kept overtaking her.

Her heart stopped for fifteen minutes, and the doctor and a nurse carried out cardiopulmonary resuscitation procedures on Jasmine and her heart restarted.

Jasmine was diagnosed with chronic brucellosis – when in fact she was suffering from a condition that had not yet been recognised by medicine – ME, which would also be known as Yuppie Flu and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

Jasmine was given a tonic and the doctor quipped, "I’m going to prescribe 4 fluid ounces of glue, 3 fluid ounces of ink, and 12 ounces of paper!"

Jasmine returned a puzzled look.

"A book!" the doctor clamoured, "Curl up in bed with a good book and relax for a couple of weeks Miss Jones. You’ve been overdoing it."

Jasmine was given a fortnight’s leave from her teaching job at college, and her Aunt Barbara in Thurstaston persuaded her to recuperate at her cottage.

On the first night at the cottage, something very strange took place.

Jasmine lay in bed, and she had been slogging her way through the second volume of Proust’s In Search of Lost Time when she had felt her eyelids become as heavy as lead.

Jasmine always launched herself optimistically into this thick paperback, and always she paid in the coin of fatigue.

On this evening she dozed off for a moment but awoke in the semi-darkness to a vision!

It was as if she were looking through a porthole in mid-air at a beautiful sunny rural scene, and in the centre of this hallucination stood a towering windmill, its sails turning slowly, and the gentle rotation was hypnotic to Jasmine, for she felt drawn out of the darkened bedroom and into the mirage of what seemed to be farmland.

Jasmine drifted like a soap bubble across golden fields of wheat and mosaics of Mikado yellow barley and vast tracts of chartreuse corn, and all the time the great windmill turned, and then Jasmine found herself walking thigh-deep through a meadow of lucerne – and she felt the sun’s savage solar rays filter through her centre part and its infernal pitiless radiation seared her face and bare arms.

And she was met by a tall broad-shouldered hunk of a man with shoulder-length black hair and a lantern jaw.

He wore a white shirt, a belt with a round golden buckle, dark tight-fitting trousers and brown leather boots.

Already she noticed his ice-blue eyes, and he smiled at Jasmine and said, "Oh my love, you came! We hoped you would!" And he threw his muscular arms around her, kissed her hard on the lips, and took her by the hand.

Jasmine somehow knew his name was Jack.

He led Jasmine to the grey stone farmhouse, and they passed a scarecrow with a tattered topper on its turnip head, and a red umbrella on its arm.

"Hello Mr Gillray," Jack shouted to an old man in a cap and bib and brace as he pushed a green wheelbarrow down a path.

The passed a pink pig and a black one, a large sandy dog in a kennel guarding an outhouse, grazing Hereford cattle with velvet-brown hides, and an old woman who was leading a huge shire horse across a yard.

Jack introduced Jasmine to his boss, Farmer Green, a stout, middle-aged rosy-cheeked man in a crimson waistcoat, gamboge breeches, calf-length boots and a squat coachman’s hat.

He congratulated Jack and Jasmine on their ‘forthcoming marriage’ – and then Jasmine woke up in a pitch-black bedroom.

Every night, Jasmine would doze off in bed and see the windmill appear, and she began to enjoy her life married to farm-labourer Jack.

At the end of the two weeks at Aunt Barbara’s cottage, a tearful Jack told Jasmine she’d have to leave soon.

He said something about the time when she had died at the doctor’s, and how because she had ‘come across’ she’d been able to see his world.

"I’ll come back for you," Jasmine recalled saying through tears, but Jack had said, "I’ll be dust, my love. Goodbye."

Jasmine never had any more dreams at the cottage, and almost had a breakdown when she realised she’d never see her dream husband again.

Just before she departed for Liverpool, 7-year-old Beth, the daughter of Aunt Barbara’s neighbour came to visit, and she cheekily went into the loft of the cottage and found an old tin chest that Barbara knew nothing of.

In that chest, Beth found a toy farm featuring painted tin people and animals.

A pink and black pig, a scarecrow with an umbrella, a dog in a kennel, an old man pushing a green wheelbarrow, a farmer that looked like Farmer Green, and a farm labourer that looked just like Jack...

Haunted Liverpool 29 is out now on Amazon