Spirit animals are strange, but that old adage ‘There’s nowt so queer as folk’ rings as true in death as it does in life. I get to see some strange things and look inside some weird minds when I’m open to spirit. Take Michael, for instance.
He came to see me several years ago, and I welcomed him into my office with a smile and a handshake. He’d been waiting outside in the front room chatting to John about football.
He was smartly dressed in a pinstriped grey business suit with a crisp white shirt and paisley-print tie. He must have been in his late fifties, but I could tell he liked to look after himself. As he sat down opposite me in my little office I caught a waft of expensive cologne – Acqua di Parma, I think it was, one of those lovely, timeless fragrances the old film stars used to splash on.
I’d never met Michael before but had seen his wife on many occasions. She was a lady who lunched. She didn’t work and, thanks to a maid and the cleaner, she had plenty of time on her hands. You see, Michael was a very successful businessman. He worked in finance – something to do with hedge funds, whatever they are – and it made him a lot of money. Their two children had left home and Michael and his wife were knocking around a huge townhouse in Belgravia with plenty of time and money on their hands.
After his wife had raved about me, he had decided to book an appointment for a bit of business advice. I get a lot of businessmen coming to see me. It makes perfect sense. If you can read the markets, if you can make accurate predictions about the price of gold or wheat or whatever it is you deal in, you have an advantage over your competitors. I used to consult regularly for a businessman in Hong Kong who would call almost daily for predictions. I must have been right most of the time because he was a multimillionaire.
Michael had never been to see a psychic before and, although he was polite, I sensed that he was sceptical. It happens all the time and I don’t have a problem with it. I would expect people to be sceptical – after all, the claims I make are pretty fantastical.
So as Michael made himself comfortable I explained a little bit about what I did.
‘I open myself to spirit and communicate with them. I’ll answer any questions you have and be guided by whatever it is you want from this reading. I can look into aspects of your life and advise you on them, if that’s what you want me to do,’ I said.
Michael shifted in his seat. I detected a nervous energy coming from him.
‘What, you can read my mind?’ he said, slightly mockingly.
‘I can see things about you, yes.’
He laughed.
When I give a reading, I don’t just see spirit, I can see into every facet of the receiver’s life, and as I opened myself up I saw as plain as day why Michael was a little bit uncomfortable.
An image swam into my mind. It was Michael. He was standing in a plush bedroom in front of a full-length antique mirror. He was standing in profile, shoulders back and head raised in a proud pose. He was admiring himself and I sensed a thrill of excitement coursing through him. To the side of the huge divan bed in the room there was an ornately carved wooden chest of drawers. One of the drawers was open and clothes had spilled from it as if they had been pulled out in a frenzy. Some were scattered on the floor, some on the bed. The garments were all expensive ladies’ lingerie. And Michael was wearing some too. He had the full get-up on: sheer black stockings, suspender belt, French knickers and a silk camisole. Michael was a cross-dresser.
Then another flash. Michael arriving at work in his City office. It was early in the morning and, as he walked through the glass-fronted lobby of the building, he said hello to the cleaner, who was just finishing mopping the marble floor. Michael was carrying a briefcase and he was heading furtively for the toilets, taking it with him. He checked the cubicles first and when he was satisfied the room was empty he ducked into one, locked the door and pulled out a pair of hold-up black stockings. He removed his shoes, socks and trousers and put the stockings on, pulling them up over his briefs.
Michael definitely had a few issues.
As a rule, men are more reserved when they come to me. They don’t open up like women do; they wait for me to tell them what I’m seeing. Michael certainly wasn’t going to tell me that he loved to wear stockings and suspenders. Maybe he thought I wasn’t a real medium, maybe he wanted to test me – or, possibly, he wanted me to find out. Sometimes being found out by a stranger helps people come to terms with their secrets and scruples.
I don’t judge. I’m very open-minded, and when it comes to people like Michael and their habits, I try to empathize and understand. I’ve seen it all, believe me. It takes a lot to shock me and, whatever his motivations, I knew Michael wanted to share his secret with me.
I cleared my throat and leant forward.
‘I know about your secret, Michael,’ I said.
I didn’t have to say any more. He burst out crying.
‘I want to tell my wife,’ he said.
He had desperately wanted to reveal his secret to his wife for years, but it had become such a hidden part of his life, buried and covered over, that he didn’t know how to broach the subject.
I gave him the best advice I could. I advised that it would be best to tell her first, not to show her. I didn’t need spirit to tell me that, it was common sense.
‘If you just blunder in, drop your trousers and stand there in your shirt, stockings and suspenders, it may be a bit too much for her,’ I said. After all, I would think it was a joke if John did that to me.
‘You must think I’m a weirdo,’ he said sadly, looking for reassurance.
‘Who am I to say what’s right or wrong.’ I shrugged. ‘All I know is that keeping this secret is making you sad. But if doing it makes your head normal and if it makes you feel balanced, then what’s the harm? We all have quirks; every one of us has something we’d be embarrassed about if someone else knew.’
Michael drew comfort from that, and I hope he felt a weight lifted. The rest of the reading was about his business and his family life, and I don’t know what he did when he left, whether he told his wife or not. I just hope I helped him in some way.
Hang-ups and foibles like Michael’s are the little glitches in our personalities that make us what we are. Michael saw me in the privacy of my own home, but imagine what it must be like to have your secrets told to an audience. Well, it does happen. Spirits sometimes come through with the most bizarre messages.
One such reading that always makes me laugh when I think back on it happened at a show a while back. An elderly woman came through and was calling for her daughter, Tracey.
Remember I explained that spirits often show me facets of their former characters to allow people to identify them? Well, this lady came through, and I got the impression she had liked a drink when she was alive. I was swaying a bit as her energy ran through me.
An attractive slim lady in the audience stood up to take the message. She was reluctant at first, and I found out why a few minutes into the reading!
The spirit first showed me scissors and hair being cut, and the lady in the audience confirmed that her mother used to be a hairdresser.
‘Who is Molly?’ I asked as a name materialized in my head.
‘Molly is my daughter,’ she said.
Then things got weird. In my mind I heard a slapping sound, like skin being smacked. I made a slapping motion with my hand and through the noise I heard a name.
‘Who’s Barry?’
The lady looked confused.
The old lady in spirit was showing me the image of a man and in the image he was with the lady in the audience. She was leading him into her house.
‘Do you let someone called Barry into your house?’ I asked.
‘Not Barry, Gary,’ she said. And then she started giggling uncontrollably. She hid her face in her hands.
Then the lady in spirit showed me another scene. In the interests of decency, I won’t go into the finer details of what I was seeing here, but I will say it involved spanking.
‘He doesn’t spank you, does he?’ I asked as the audience erupted in laughter. The woman in the audience shook her head and went as red as a beetroot.
‘She’s seen that,’ I told her. ‘Each to their own, that’s what I say. We’re all adults here. But just remember, your mother is watching.’
The lady took it all in good humour. What could I do? I could only tell her what I was being shown.
I do think that spirits can watch people making love, kissing, being naughty and sexy. It’s a sobering thought, I know, but there you go: they like to be around us.
Sometimes they even keep their earthly desires with them when they cross over. Because the love we have is the thing we take with us, if we have a loving relationship that is particularly passionate, that passion remains.
Take Fred, for example. He came through at a show in Dorking, Surrey. It was a busy night, the energy was strong and clear and Fred came through as sharp as a pin. His daughters and his wife were in the audience and, to begin with, one of his daughters stood to take the message. Fred tenderly thanked her for nursing him when he was ill. It was an incredibly moving exchange. And then Fred picked up on the energy of his wife. And that really got him going!
He showed me details of their relationship that made me blush.
‘He used to run his hands up your arm,’ I said, papering over the more raunchy images Fred was showing me.
His wife, an elderly lady with a sparkle in her eye, laughed.
‘He still wants to touch you,’ I said. I could feel Fred’s energy pulsing, eager to make the connection to his wife.
‘He always did,’ she laughed.
‘Being close to you keeps his energy up,’ I said.
‘He was always very energetic,’ she agreed.
Spirits also often show me the places they return to in order to be with their loved ones. They’re usually the places that meant most to them in life, the sentimental places where they shared meaningful times with their loved ones, such as favourite beaches or family homes. Fred told me exactly where he’d be waiting to make a connection with his wife.
‘When you’re in bed, you’ll feel something running up your arm. That’ll be his hand,’ I told her. I felt like a psychic Cilla Black: I’d just fixed up a date between dead Fred and his living wife!
Love and laughter so often go hand in hand in life, and the same applies in death. Some of the most touching and outwardly tragic readings and messages I have had the honour of giving are often punctuated by laughter. The humour is usually instigated by spirit. It’s spirit’s way of easing the pain of those left behind. After all, they aren’t sad, they’re happy and content in the afterlife, so they don’t want us to be miserable about their passing.
I read once for a woman who had lost her lover two months before they were due to fly abroad to Mexico to get married. He died suddenly, and the poor woman had found him dead in bed. She still went ahead on the holiday they had booked and he came through to let her know that, on the date they were due to be married, he was there with her. He described himself as her permanent partner, which made her laugh, because they never got the chance to get hitched. He wanted her to know that he loved her very much and also, like Fred, he wanted her to know that she would feel him in bed. To demonstrate this he showed me images of their relationship, much as Fred had. Really personal ones!
‘Too much information,’ I laughed.
I don’t know who was more embarrassed, me or his partner. I’m sure spirit doesn’t reveal those kinds of memories to me on purpose. I think, in the heat of the moment, they just slip out by accident. It’s lucky I’m so broad-minded.
‘He’s a naughty boy, isn’t he?’ I told the lady, and moved swiftly on.