LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter 1 Love and Loss

       Mia

      It took us a year to clear our diaries and find six months free for the training. I decided I didn’t want to teach from my home on the Isle of Sheppey because there was too much going on. I live with my mum and my daughter, Tanya, which makes for lively chaos. There are always members of our extended family gossiping at the kitchen table. And then there are the friends and friends of friends, who turn up at the door asking for advice or readings. There is always something happening, so many people who need my time and care, and the door is open to them. I can’t imagine living any other way, and I miss the bustle and the noise when I’m not there. But I needed a clear head and a place where I could devote myself totally to the business of teaching. I knew I needed to get away from home to find that peace and quiet.

      I worked out that I could stay near where Roz lived, in the countryside outside Bath, for a few days every other week. Roz found me two places to choose from: a quiet hotel and an old English pub doing bed and breakfast. It didn’t take me long to decide. I opted for the pub so I could watch TV and smoke in my room at the end of the day.

      The drive from Sheppey took five long hours. Just outside Bath, I headed for the B&B. It seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. The building was over 100 years old, and the front was a riot of pansies in pots and baskets.

      My room was basic and comfortable, with twin beds, a small bathroom and a dressing table. The window looked out over rolling hills and clumps of trees. It was very peaceful and I felt I’d be able to relax there.

      I began the business of unpacking and settling myself in. I always make sure I have a light by my bed so that I can sit in its quiet glow and read before I go to sleep. The first thing I unpacked was my book. I can’t go anywhere without one. I laid it on the bedside cabinet. Then I thought about where I was and it made me laugh: Pete and Shane would have loved this – me staying in a pub. But that could never happen now.

      We lost my brother, Pete, when he was 25. He was stabbed in a pub when he was out celebrating his birthday with a group of friends. His loss devastated our family, and was a double blow to me because I had foreseen something happening and could do nothing to prevent it.

      Some weeks before he died, Pete had asked me to give him a reading. I saw him with his fiancée, Angela, and his friends, out on a pub crawl. But then I saw a sudden scuffle, people moving very fast, and a flash of metal. I felt that Pete would be going away for a very long time, but when I told him – he just laughed. ‘Ha. Did you hear that? Mia says if I go out for a drink, I’m going to end up in prison.’

      Everyone loved Pete. He had a wicked sense of humour and although he’d been in and out of trouble, he was tough and loyal, and the best brother I could have asked for. When he met Angela, he fell head over heels in love. With the arrival of his beautiful daughter, Francesca, his world was complete.

      The night he died, he was trying to protect a young friend from a group of seriously unpleasant men. When Pete stepped in to help, he was attacked with a machete. The post mortem revealed that the machete had gone into his liver, lung and spinal cord, but Pete still managed to take himself round the corner to the police station to get help. He collapsed at the desk and died from loss of blood in the ambulance on the way to hospital.

      After I’d given Pete that reading, I felt a sense of dread. I tried to impress on him how serious it was – I wanted to stop him going out for a drink so that I could alter what I’d seen. It was so hard. I may be psychic, but I am human and vulnerable like everyone else.

      Then, five years ago, my son Shane died. Eighteen years old, he was attacked while waiting for a train one night, and kicked in the head and chest. He survived the beating but, several weeks later, he collapsed. A scan revealed a massive blood clot and he had an operation to remove it. But it was all too late. He died, and no amount of begging and praying could bring him back.

      When you lose a child you lose their future. I think about him all the time. I long to touch him, to hear him laugh, to see him loping about the house. I’ll never forget how it felt to run my fingers through his hair, to trace the lines of his face, to hold him and smell him.

      After Shane died, I was so angry that for a while I turned away from my gift. In my grief I couldn’t understand the point of my sixth sense if I wasn’t able to use it to help the people I loved. In my despair, I pushed Eric away and turned in on myself.

      Then one day a woman came to me needing my help, and when I saw the sadness in her eyes, I knew that I had to try. And in spite of everything – all my pain and rage – the spirit of her daughter came to me very clearly. Afterwards, the woman hugged me and told me that I had no idea how much I had helped. But the truth was that she had no idea how much she had helped me. Through the deepest pain, I had learned the hardest lesson. Shane was safe, just as this woman’s daughter was. Knowing there is life after death connects me to Shane. I know I will see him again, and that keeps my love alive. When I found it again, my faith was stronger than ever. I truly know that my gift is to help others.

      Sitting on the bed in the pub bedroom, I began to see my path quite clearly. In publishing my first book, The Gift, I had told the story of my life and how I had learnt to live with and use my sixth sense. My gift was no longer private. Having travelled

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