"SHE'S so unlucky," said my friend, pointing at his beautiful wife.

"Her life transformed when we met because I am a very lucky person, or at least I used to be, before I met her," he took a huge gulp of Amstel or something.

"You are just like the late Princess Diana with your aid work," said his wife.

"Well, its either her or our house," said my friend.

"It's cursed," they chimed in unison.

Cath explained: "Since we bought it everything has gone wrong. It's at the edge of a hidden burial site and, well, I just think there is something."

"Oh. My house has a similar story. When I bought it, everything went wrong. I ended up ringing the vicar."

The pair looked at me agog. The Teen laughed.

"Really. He came to our house when the Teen was little. I had made a fruit cake and a pot of tea. He sat in my front room and I explained everything. The vicar decided he would bless every room in the house and he did.

"The Teen and her friend were speechless as they watched him say a prayer and sprinkle holy water in every room. Of course they knew him from school, so as far as they were concerned it was like having a film star in the house and much cheaper than hiring an entertainer."

"Did it work?" asked Cath.

"Well yes, I believe it did. Although I am not sure you could test it scientifically."

"The thing is," said the Teen.

"If you believe your house is cursed, then you will always think it."

"I am going to ring the vicar," said Cath.

Her husband looked up to the sky, probably waiting for a sign.