Or at least that's what he'd tell you, if you were to ask.
His version of events go like this:
He came upstairs at 10:00 pm and found me asleep there. Not wanting to disturb me, he went back downstairs to continue fixing his computer thingamajigs. As part of my twisted plan to frighten the living daylights out of him, I crept down the stairs, mimicking the footsteps of our dog. And because of the dog-like creeping, he wasn't aware I'd come downstairs, instead thought it was the dog.
He continued working on his wires, completely unaware of my presence, still believing I was fast asleep. After a few minutes, he heard a voice muttering something in an eerie, unearthly way, to which he turned. He looked, first at our dog, wondering for a second whether the dog had, in fact, spoken. Then around the rest of the room.
And then he saw
Which? Nuh-uh. I don't think so.
My version of events goes like this:
Yes I was in bed, but unable to sleep, and so decided to go back downstairs for a while. I walked downstairs in a very normal way (no creeping or dog-imitating). Seeing my husband crouched under the computer desk, clearly absorbed in his wire-fixing business, I entertained myself, folding blankets and shuffling cushions on the sofa. After a while, I asked, "What are you doing honey?", to which I'm almost certain he muttered something back, then carried on fixing.
I hovered around for a bit, waiting for him to finish. Then finally asked him, louder.
"What shall we watch?"
I watched as my husband turned to see where the eerie voice was coming from, a look of horror on his face as he scanned the room, before finally settling on me - the ghost.
Later, after he'd finished blaming me for trying to induce a coronary episode, we were able to laugh about it. (Especially the part about the talking dog)