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Hello, we have an unsettling little story today from Holly in Derbyshire.

She says, in the year 2000, I was nine years old and lived in a tiny village called Padfield.

My mum spent the evening's gardening at the front of our house.

My sister and I played next to her.

One evening, a man in his 40s with a handlebar mustache

appeared around the bend cycling on an old bike.

He was whistling a tune, dressed in a suit, circular glasses,

and a tweed flat cap with a small terrier dog alongside. He slowed down when

he saw us and chatted to my mum. I didn't like him, but I couldn't say why. After this,

he appeared frequently, always stopping to talk. He just unnerved me and I started to dread

hearing his whistle as he came around the corner. After seeing how upset I was, the next time he came, my mum was quite abrupt.

He looked angry and cycled away. We never saw him again.

I still live near the village.

During a meal in a local pub one day, I noticed an old photo on the wall.

It was a man with a flat cap, handle bar mustache, circular glasses and suit

on a bike with a dog next to him. I was utterly convinced it was the same man. Every hair stood

on end when I saw the date on that photograph. It was taken in the early 1900s, which would

make him over 140 years old when he talked to my mum.

Who was that sinister cyclist stopping to court Holly's mum?

Email me your thoughts, uncanny at BBC.co.uk.