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

In this latest story, Tom tells the ghoulish tale of the witches of Halloween...

On the Wednesday of October 30 1974 at 11.50pm, a teenaged couple sat in a parked car on Prenton’s Marlborough Grove.

The couple were Eric Godwin, an 18-year-old trainee chef and his girlfriend of two weeks, 16-year-old Maureen Appleby, who was still at school.

"What have you parked here for?" Maureen asked, looking through the windows of the BMW – a car Eric had borrowed from his father.

"I live in the next street, Kings Mount," she told a smirking Eric as he leaned towards her, his lips puckering.

"I thought we could have a bit of nooky time here first," he said.

She leaned back, shrinking away from him with a look bordering on disgust. He still had chewing gum in his mouth.

"Stop that, Eric," she protested, pushing her hand against his bare chest. He’d unbuttoned his shirt because he imagined the sight of his naked chest would get Maureen going.

"I told my mum and dad I’d be back at eleven, and it’s nearly twelve. They’ll go spare," said Maureen, glancing up at the full moon hanging over a deserted Marlborough Grove.

Something flitted across the lunar disk, startling the girl. It was not an owl – it was too big to be any night bird or bat – and that silhouette had looked like a person!

"Eric, something just went past the moon!" she told her lecherous boyfriend, but he pushed her into the seat and started kissing her neck. "Eric! Did you hear what I said?"

"Yeah, it’s been a satellite or something," came his muffled reply from under her chin, "romantic this, isn’t it?"

There was a sound of shrieking female laughter somewhere in the distance, and Maureen pushed Eric’s smooching face away and he looked around, expecting to see someone on the street – but instead he saw shadows flitting across the road, pavement and walls of the houses – shadows that were being cast from above.

"Eric! Look!" yelped Maureen, looking wide-eyed at the night sky through the windows of the car.

There was a woman, mostly in silhouette, with a faint tracing of silver from the moon around her face and bare legs, flying slowly across the clear Persian blue sky.

She wore a knee-length skirt and her hair was up in a bun, and she was now moving her arms in semicircular movements and kicking her legs about so it looked as if she was doing the backstroke through the sky.

The whole impression was mesmeric to Maureen but it frightened Eric, who kept swearing in shock.

Marlborough Grove is on a slant, so when a panicking Eric took the handbrake off and missed the biting point of the engine, the BMW lurched forward and stalled, and Maureen pointed skywards, yelling: "There’s another one look!"

This second airborne female was not in silhouette; she was full illuminated by the moon, and Eric and Maureen could see her long red hair and the white nightie she was wearing as she flew just above chimney pot level with her arms stretched out ahead and her toes pointed as if she was springing off a diving board.

She only looked young and petite.

The BMW tore off down the moonlit road and swung onto Woodchurch Road, narrowly missing a beeping Hackney cab.

Maureen was enthralled by the flying girls but Eric was making the sign of the cross and muttering some prayer.

Then, as the car halted at the lights at the Balls Road junction, Eric nodded to Oxton Congregational Church and said, "Protect us Lord from these witches!"

Maureen found herself giggling, and an annoyed Eric asked, "What’s funny about that?"

"I thought witches were just things out of fairy tales," said Maureen, "I can’t believe we’ve just seen them! Wait till I tell our Jane – she’s into all that witchcraft and love-spells stuff."

Jane was Maureen’s older sister, and Eric had said she was weird because she always dressed in black.

"That’s it, isn’t it?" Eric said, as he moved off with the changing of the lights, "it’s bleeding Duck Apple Night now isn’t it?"

"Tomorrow, it is," said Maureen, but Eric shook his head and said, "Which is now, it’s gone past midnight."

"Oh yes, so now it’s the witching hour," said Maureen, "it’s usually between one and two in the morning but when the moon is full, it starts at midnight, especially at Halloween."

"Your barmy sister been down your ear-hole then?" Eric said, switching on the radio to listen to the 'Night Ride' programme on Radio 1 to calm his nerves.

Maureen tapped his fist on the gearstick.

"Take me home Eric, my parents will have murder with me for staying out this late."

"I’ll take you back soon," laughed Eric.

"We’re going to a quiet little speck by the park, having a bit of romantic how’s your father –"

The car suddenly lost all power and something stopped it on Oxton Road.

As Eric tried to restart the BMW, the passenger door opened, and Maureen saw the girl in black standing there. It was her sister Jane, smiling.

"It’s time you joined us, sister of mine," she said, and gently pulled a startled Maureen out the car.

Eric leaned across the passenger seat to see who it was – and saw the stranger was Jane – and she and Maureen and a red-haired girl went up into the air.

He almost fell out the BMW and went cold with fear as he saw those two witches on either side of Maureen, holding her arms as they flew through the sky shrieking with laughter.

He never went near Maureen again and later moved to Liverpool.

Haunted Liverpool 30 is out now on Amazon.