LITMIR.BIZ

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since the success of my book, I had been increasingly in demand. Each day brought fresh emails and letters, and many of them needed answering desperately. I was inundated with requests for readings from people who had identified with my story and sought comfort over the loss of their own sons, daughters, husbands, wives, brothers and sisters. There was such a need for psychic reassurance. It can be hard sometimes, but I have one important rule: when I’m working I give a hundred percent, and when I stop, my family get a hundred percent. And with each small piece of help I can offer, the path becomes clearer.

      The past year had also been emotionally demanding. Dad died peacefully in his sleep and although Mum coped really well, she needed me. I was the family’s problem-solver – the one everyone came to when they needed help, whether it was with filling in an insurance claim or healing a broken heart. There was always something to sort out.

      Throughout the busy year, the thing that sustained me most was the thought of training Roz and, eventually, opening a psychic school. I trust in fate, and this felt like the next logical step in the process of bringing psychic awareness to a wider audience. I knew that the six months ahead were vitally important.

      Finally, here I was driving to Roz’s. Nevertheless, I had yet to work out a plan of action. In all the years I had been working as a psychic, I’d rarely thought about how I did it – the mechanics of clairvoyance. Teaching would mean developing a completely new set of skills. It was one thing daydreaming about a curriculum – quite another to break down what I knew instinctively into manageable steps for a novice.

      When I thought of a ‘teacher’, I saw someone standing at the front of a classroom providing facts. But clairvoyance is not laid down in a set of rules. So much is based on experiential information. How was I going to communicate all this?

      As always in situations like this, I turned to Eric for guidance. He is a constant – always there to help me learn, and to offer strength and reassurance.

      ‘I think I need some help here, Eric,’ I said aloud. (I only speak to him like this if I am sure I can’t be overheard.) ‘I’ve really tried, but I can’t work out how to break down what I do into basic steps. Now I’m on my way and Roz thinks I’m ready to teach her.’

      Eric replied instantly, ‘You had enough faith to get in the car and drive. Trust in yourself a little more.’

      Eric’s voice was coming from the passenger seat. I couldn’t see him clearly, just a shadowy outline. I kept my eye on the road. The trees were just beginning to bud.

      ‘Is it going to be okay? I’ve no idea what I’m going to do.’

      ‘I wouldn’t be helping you if I mapped it out. You’re going to learn as much from this in your own way as Roz will in hers.’

      This was typical of Eric. Once again I felt envious of those mediums who say they get all their information, whatever they ask, from their guides. Eric would have none of that. He would steer me in the right direction – giving me clues with images or feelings, but never the answer. He always taught me that I had to look for myself and use my own mind.

       Roz

      Waiting for Mia to arrive, I realized I had no idea how we were going to work. Would there be formal classes? Would I have to write things down? Were there books I would have to read? Would she set me homework?

      I got out my notebook and went through a checklist of Mia’s predictions. Her vision of me in Wellington boots looking at chickens had never materialized – at least not yet. But my fridge-freezer had broken just as she said. One morning I found a pool of water on the kitchen floor and the door, hanging open, was ‘wonky’ and wouldn’t close.

      Then, unexpectedly, my brother offered to help me buy a new computer. Even more strange – for Christmas, my boyfriend, Mark, gave me a pair of stout new top-of-the-range walking boots.

       Mia

      The first thing I noticed when I stepped inside Roz’s cottage was that it had a good atmosphere. The energy felt light and creative. It also felt homely. I wasn’t expecting to be fed but, after making me a cup of tea, Roz set about cooking pasta for a late lunch. The house was as I had imagined it: cluttered with intriguing things. Chairs piled with papers. Books propped against the skirting boards. I was especially drawn to the Indian hangings on the walls.

      After lunch, Roz put cushions on the front step so we could sit down. We looked out over the Mendip Hills. The last of the Spring sun was shining and I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time. The silence was soothing.

      ‘I’m not sure what you’re expecting, but I haven’t got these lessons set in stone or written down. I’ve never done this before, so I’ve got to learn to teach you just as you’ve got to learn what I’m teaching you.’

      ‘I’m trusting my instinct here – I’ve got a feeling about some people I want you to meet. An Australian couple have just arrived in England to see me and they are coming to Bath tomorrow. I think it would be a good idea for you to observe the meeting. They lost their daughter in the Bali bombing.’

       Roz

      I thought back to the newspaper reports of the nightclub bomb – over 200 young people had been killed while they were out partying.

       Mia

      ‘The couple are called Robert and Louise. I’ll ask them if you can sit in. I think it’s important for you to come because so much of being a psychic is about being able to be with other people’s pain. Whatever the way someone dies, the suffering and loss for loved ones is universal. Bereavement is often the reason people seek the counsel of a psychic – or a priest or doctor. I consider these meetings the most important work I do.’

       Roz

      ‘They’re coming all the way from Australia to meet you?’

       Mia

      ‘They read The Gift and the account of my son Shane’s death: how I coped with the loss, it really struck a chord. They first contacted me six months ago. They told me about their daughter and said how much the book had touched them. I know what it’s like to lose a child and feel desperate, so I emailed back my telephone number. Two days later, they called.

      ‘We were on the phone for half an hour – it was a simple connection from one bereaved parent to another; nothing psychic. Later that day they emailed again saying they wanted to travel to see me. I tried to put them off – I said it was ridiculous to travel half way around the world to speak to me. I explained that I couldn’t guarantee their daughter would come through to me, especially as she had only been dead a year. I wanted to protect them from themselves – from all that expense and huge expectation. But they insisted, they said they were coming to England.’

      ‘Anyway, after all that driving I’m afraid I’m exhausted now. If it’s okay with Robert and Louise, I’ll pick you up in the morning and we’ll go and meet them.’

      Robert and Louise were more than happy for Roz to come along, so the next day we drove to Bath. On the way, I gave myself a pep talk. I still felt anxious at the thought that they had travelled a great distance and I might not be able to give them what they most wanted.

      But no matter how much I wanted to help them, I knew I could only give them psychic information if I was absolutely sure of it. When Shane died, many so-called psychics telephoned me saying they had news of him from the other side. Not one of their so-called messages made any sense to me. I would hate to do that to someone else.

      The moment I saw Robert and Louise standing at the entrance to the hotel, all my worries disappeared. I was filled with a feeling of love for them. They thanked

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