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one he wanted me to see. Then he pointed to his wife’s hands. In one hand she held a glass of water – her other hand was cupped but I could clearly see she was holding a pill bottle! It was obvious he was warning me. She intended taking her own life and there was nothing anyone could do to prevent it. No one, that is, except him.

      I told Mrs Greville exactly what I was seeing. I felt so strongly, and for reasons I didn’t fully understand, that no matter what she was contemplating, this was something he didn’t want her to do. I told her if she did end her life, she might not see her husband again. I said that, unsure if it was true or not. It just seemed that he so wanted her to live. He had left her suddenly. Her death would only increase his sense of misery and that of their family.

      I did not mention dates, simply that I believed her to be in danger. I knew that a great deal of what I said went in one ear and out the other. However, in December of that year, Mrs Greville telephoned me. My immediate feeling was one of relief. I thought, ‘At least she’s still alive.’

      She told me she had been very low, so low she had seriously considered taking her own life. She had it all worked out. She met with her lawyer, putting all her affairs in order. She wrote individual letters for each of the family, and had even left a letter detailing her funeral wishes. She then filled a glass with water and poured out a handful of pills.

      Thankfully, right at the last minute, she had remembered my words, ‘If you do this, you will not see your husband again.’

      As she continued to speak, I could sense she had turned a corner. She would never stop missing him and the pain she felt after he died would be with her always. However, I could tell that she seemed to know her life had to go on. Maybe she knew there was some reason she had to wait, something else perhaps, that was still to happen in her life.

      These next words are ones I shall never forget.

      I asked her, ‘Out of curiosity, when was this exactly? Can you remember?’ Her reply was, ‘It was a few weeks ago. In November. November 16th to be precise.’

      The Tidy Ghost

       I’m actually quite fond of this story. In fact, I only wish there were more spirits like this one about. Even as I write it, I see shades of old fairy tales, where certain castles had a friendly brownie or elf and we all know what we can sometimes win Brownie points for, don’t we? Yes, tidying up. Only in this instance the lady concerned didn’t have a brownie in her house. She had her husband. In spirit form of course.

      Long after her appointment time, Mrs Ball finally arrived – in a state of utter harrassment. She reminded me a bit of myself in that it was clear she never had a minute to herself. ‘Bustle bustle’ was all around her, and almost as soon as she sat down I could sense two things. One, she had been busy doing housework right up until she left home to attend her appointment. And two, she had not arrived entirely alone. I sensed she had brought someone with her, someone who couldn’t be seen.

      I felt quite sure she was a widow and the spirit she had brought with her was that of her deceased husband. It seemed to me he was the most likely candidate, although I had no idea of the circumstances of his death, or indeed, at this stage, if he was in fact deceased. I knew only that this presence was male. However, the more I described him, the clearer it seemed to me that this was her husband.

      My client seemed a little sceptical, perhaps afraid to believe he was there. She clearly required proof – a fairly common reaction in some readings. So I tried to delve a little deeper to see if he could give me something so concrete that his poor, bereft wife would know for sure her beloved husband was near to her.

      ‘Were you ironing before you came out today?’ I asked, finding my question comical.

      ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That’s why I was late.’

      ‘Were you ironing a white duvet cover?’ I asked, amused at what I was hearing.

      ‘Goodness, how do you know that?’ By now she was becoming quite astonished. In all honesty, I was a little astonished myself.

      When you’re dealing with the spirit world you think the messages that come over will be earth-shattering. In fact, that is very seldom the case. And there was such ‘ordinary domesticity’ about this one.

      I explained to her that I was hearing everything from her husband. Her face went several shades of pale as I continued. ‘You didn’t finish what you were doing,’ I said, quite clearly seeing, in my mind’s eye, a pile of neatly folded ironing lying atop the ironing board.

      I then told her that when she got home she would find the white duvet cover in her bedroom. I laughed as I told her not to expect the cover to be on the duvet, but that she would find it lying on her bed.

      ‘That’s impossible,’ she told me. To be honest, I also felt a little unsure of what I was saying.

      ‘Your husband’s going to put it there,’ I told her, feeling less confident than I sounded. ‘It’s his way of letting you know he is with you.’

      After discussing many other things, my client left, promising to phone me if what I had said about the duvet cover was true.

      Later that night the phone rang. I recognized the voice immediately. It was Mrs Ball. ‘I just wanted to tell you,’ she said. ‘I went home and it was all exactly as you said. The cover was on the corner of the bed – not made up – but lying there, ironed and folded the way I had left it. I know for a fact that I left the cover on the ironing board!’

      Mrs Ball now had clear evidence her husband wasn’t far from her – something she so desperately needed to know. And, in heaven, as he had been on earth, he was such a meticulously tidy soul.

      Sweet Caroline

       Caroline immediately admitted that she had never consulted a paranormal expert before so would I forgive her if she seemed nervous? She told me that, quite frankly, she was terrified. I talked calmly to her, telling her there was nothing to worry about. I would be gentle with her!

      Minutes into the consultation, I became aware of a spirit. I knew this spirit was anxious, too, as its body language was uncomfortable. It quickly became clear to me that the spirit was that of a young male. His cause of death initially seemed a bit of a mystery, but as I slowly began to relay his words to Caroline, it became increasingly obvious.

      First he spoke of his ‘beloved’ motorbike (I immediately felt Caroline’s tension at the mention of that word). Gary’s name was mentioned and again I told Caroline that. She merely nodded, looking grief-stricken. ‘Gary’s body is whole again, Caroline,’ I tentatively told her. ‘What is not whole is his conscience. He seems devastated by his death.’

      At this point I thought that of course he would be devastated. Here was a handsome young man, his life in front of him – a whole life tragically cut short in a horrifying way. ‘Gary says you must stop fretting and regretting that you didn’t view his body. This was his wish. Although you were broken-hearted at his sudden death, I know more sadness followed when you changed your mind about seeing his body but were refused permission. Gary would not have wanted you to see him like that. The only person to see Gary in his coffin was his brother, and that was purely for identification purposes. No one got to see him, not you, nor any of his close friends and none of his family. He was in a dreadful mess physically.’

      I can only describe Caroline’s face by saying it was chalk white. She gave a tiny sob and I begged her not to hold back the tears. I told her crying was a hugely important part of mourning and that she was doing herself no favours by holding her feelings in. Everyone was worried for her. Gary was worried for her!

      ‘I love him, Katie, I truly loved him!’ I remember Caroline’s broken words to this day. Oh, how they tug on my heart-strings. All I wanted to do was go over to Caroline, put my arms around her and take her very severe, almost tangible pain away from her.

      However, I continued to relay what Gary was saying. ‘Did Karen make it?’ he asked. He seemed to have no way of knowing whether Karen was alive or dead.

      ‘He

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