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

In this latest tale, Tom recalls a creepy encounter ...

COMPARED to the scale of the observable universe, this earth is even smaller than a subatomic particle, and while the duller terrestrials on this speck of a planet are only just now coming round to the possibility that there could be life out there in space.

A cursory examination of our folklore history hints that entities from elsewhere have been regularly dropping in on this world for their own reasons for millennia, and some of these intruders might be responsible for the legends of fairies, ghosts, goblins, Bigfoot, UFO occupants, religious visions and so on.

There are many different transcendental transgressors who pop into our reality from other dimensions, but sometimes the same entity is seen again and again in a routine that spans decades or even centuries.

I call one of these regular dimensional intruders The Creep. Let us go back to 1978, and to Park Road West, Birkenhead.

A 16-year-old girl named Hayley was walking her puppy when the telephone in the red public call box started to ring.

For some reason - probably boredom - Hayley decided to go into the box and answer the call.

"Hello, how are you dear?" said a bright well-spoken voice, and Hayley grinned and said: "This is a telephone box." 

"Oh dear, is that so?" asked the man. He chuckled and added: "I must have dialled the wrong number." 

"Yes," said Hayley, who was about to end the call when the caller said: "You sound fun; may I ask you what your name is?" 

"No, I don't tell strangers things like that," Hayley told him, but the man came back with "Oh, I'm not a stranger; I’m just a friend you don’t know yet." 

Hayley wasn't sure what to do; she sensed the man was peculiar but she was not sure if he was a threat.

She didn’t know whether she should hang up or not.

"Can I guess how old you are?" asked the stranger, and Hayley smiled and said: "Go on." 

"I'd say about sixteen - am I right?" said the man.

Hayley fidgeted with the handle of the leash and looked down at the well-behaved puppy sitting on the floor of the telephone box.

"Spot on," said Hayley, "and how old are you?" 

"Twenty," the man replied. Hayley said: "You sound old - about forty." 

"How dare you!" the unknown caller said and laughed and Hayley giggled.

The man said: "You have a lovely giggle, whoever you are, and it makes me all gooey inside." 

"Oh," Hayley blushed. She asked: "What's your name?" 

"Harry," came the reply.

"Now you know my name you have to tell me yours." 

"Hayley," replied the teenager, and she was startled by the rapping of a woman on the pane of the telephone box.

"I better be going Harry, someone wants to make a call." 

"Hayley!" cried Harry, "Please come to that telephone box tomorrow at two - please!" 

"Why?" Hayley asked. 

Harry said: "Because I love talking to you; you make my heart go all weird." 

Hayley went home, and told her older sister Frances about Harry.

Frances said: "Don’t go back to that phonebox, Hayley; that Harry fellah might be a psychopath or something." 

But Hayley went and Harry rang the phone in the call box as soon as the girl entered.

He sweet-talked Hayley and persuaded her to go to the call box on the next day, and this went on for days, until Harry said: "We have to meet, Hayley - I love you girl.

"Give me your address and I’ll drive there tonight and we can go for a drive." 

Hayley gave him her address – a certain house on St Vincent Road, Prenton, and Harry promised he'd arrive around 8pm.

At 7.45pm as Hayley sat in her bedroom in front of her dresser, putting on lipstick, she heard Harry's voice behind her and turned to see a weird tall man wearing a type of black body stocking and pointed hood.

He had a huge grinning mouth, and his face was very pale and grey.

He said: "I'm a bit early," before making a grab at Hayley.

He clutched at her hair and dragged the screaming girl across the bedroom towards a corner.

As Hayley’s father burst into the room, "Harry” vanished into thin air.

Hayley never went near that red telephone box on Park Road West ever again.

In 2011, a girl named Kirsten started to get calls on her mobile each evening from a man calling himself "Harlan".

Harlan made out he’d accidentally called Kirsten and claimed to have fallen in love with her voice.

Kirsten warned the caller she'd inform the police unless he stopped pestering her. Harlan said: "Very well – I shall come to your house in Manor Hill and show myself and prove to you that I really do love you." 

"How do you know where I live?" 

Kirsten wanted to know, and that night her screams sent her parents and two brothers running to her room.

Kirsten said a weird man in a tight-fitting black one-piece suit had appeared in her bedroom.

He wore a strange hood and shrieked with laughter as he pulled her by the foot off the bed, and as he did, the stranger seemed to go into the wall - and then he vanished.

After that terrifying incident, "Harlan" was heard from no more. I wonder what name he’ll use next - and - could he call YOU next time?

• Haunted Liverpool 33 is out now on Amazon.