Chapter 23
Amy: Make You Feel My Love
I had pinned so many hopes on the spiritual evening.
I really thought that I might get to hear from James, that it might be the start of us communicating long-distance again.
I can get that Elsie had got a bit past her best before date, and her skills weren’t quite what they maybe used to be.
But she had been coaxed back out of retirement, whereas Amber is out there staging events now, so she really ought to know what she’s doing.
I might be being a bit harsh, but it seems like Amber didn’t actually have much of a gift at all.
I mean, it does seem a bit odd that she couldn’t even get a message for Tom, given that he’s certain that he hears from Daphne every day.
And surely he can’t just be imagining it.
And now I’m almost wondering if Amber was faking it. But would she really do that? Prey on the hopes of people who are grieving, who have lost someone really special to them? Either way, the upshot is I hit a real low when it didn’t work out.
The thing is, I just can’t accept that he’s not coming back.
When we first got together I knew it would be really hard to have him going away for work.
It’s not even like he was just going away on a sales conference or something safe like that.
But somehow I knew I had to deal with it, because being with him for some of the time was infinitely better than not being with him at all.
So I learnt to trust that he would always come back to me.
It didn’t make me miss him any less, and I didn’t worry about him any less, but I somehow found a way to get on with life.
The impossible thing to bear now is the fact that he’s never coming back.
And that just breaks my heart, over and over.
But if I could just find a way to develop some psychic skills so I can contact him, communicate with him, it would be a complete game-changer.
I know I shouldn’t get all carried away and get my hopes up again just because this other medium has promised to do a reading for me.
But, of course, that’s exactly what I’ve gone and done.
Did I tell you about him? I met him as I was leaving the theatre, and I was so upset.
My FFC friends were trying to console me, but I’d got my hopes up so high that night and when it didn’t work out I just felt so distraught.
And then as I was walking down the steps from the theatre in floods of tears, a man gently touched my elbow and said, ‘Excuse me,’ and introduced himself – he’s called Mark, and told me he was also a medium, but a proper one.
He apologised on behalf of the awful Amber and was a little scathing about her sort, but he offered me a free private reading to try to restore my faith in the art of mediumship.
So now I’ve been totally distracted this morning, because later on today I’ve got my one-to-one reading.
I looked Mark up online, and apparently he is amazing, with loads of glowing reviews giving him five out of five stars on Trustpilot, people saying he can tell you things he couldn’t possibly have known or guessed.
And his waiting list is a mile long – well, many months long.
According to other websites there are rumours that celebrities go to see him, but he’s too discreet to mention that on his own website.
So I really am privileged to be getting a free reading from him at all, never mind so soon after I met him.
The thing is, now I feel like I really might make contact with James, I’m starting to get nervous about what he might say.
What if he says James has met someone up there?
It’s heaven isn’t it? The girls have got to be…
well, heavenly I guess. And how am I meant to compete with that?
I know I should be happy for him, if he has met someone, glad that something good could come out of the situation for him.
But the reality is I won’t be. I’m just not that generous.
But at least if this medium can work his magic and connect with James, I’ll have a chance to remind him I’m here, to let him know I still love him, and to ask him to wait for me, if it’s not too late.
I’ve been counting down the days ever since I met Mark.
I even got to the stage of counting down the hours.
How sad is that? I’m just hoping that this goes better than the séance or the spiritual evening.
I’m half wondering if this should be my last attempt to contact James.
If this doesn’t work, should I really be doing any more psychic-type things?
It’s such an emotional rollercoaster, building up your hopes only to get them dashed when things don’t work out.
But if I don’t do these things, what else do I do?
Anyway, I’m still really hopeful about this one.
So, I’m not giving up just yet. And the fact that Mark has offered to do this reading for free makes it pretty clear he’s not in it for the money.
I’m meeting him at his house, and I’m so curious to see what it looks like.
In my head I’ve conjured up images of some really wacky building with weird sculptures in the front garden and a haunted look about the place.
So, I’m a bit surprised when my iPhone tells me I’ve arrived at my destination and I find myself staring up at the most ordinary-looking house you could imagine, in a close of typical 1980s houses.
Neat, cared-for homes, but nothing exceptional.
You’d never guess a spiritual medium was living here.
And now I’m feeling really nervous. I’ve tried so hard to reach James and I’ve got my hopes up each time, only to have them dashed.
Now I’m wondering if I can take another fail.
Am I really strong enough? Perhaps this was all a big mistake.
Part of me just wants to turn around and run away from this.
But another part of me is desperately curious and can’t quite abandon hope.
Hope is such a stubborn thing. It keeps going where it really should know better than to persist.
And what if James really is out there and waiting to talk to me?
I wrote to him telling him that I’d be here today and that he’d better be here too.
So now what if he’s made the effort to be here, and I don’t show?
This is probably complete madness, but because I’m still clinging on to the belief that he’s out there, I’m going to have to go with this and try once more to reach him.
So, instead of listening to the logic in my head, I go with my heart once again.
And instead of turning on my heels and getting back in the car, I go up to the front door and ring the bell.
A moment later, the door opens and there stands Mark, exuding serenity, but other than that, looking just so – well, normal.
When I met him outside the theatre it was dark, so I didn’t get to see exactly what he looked like.
Now that I can see him properly, it turns out he looks more like a firefighter than what you’d imagine of a psychic medium.
He’s broad and very masculine, and I can see the top of tattoos just above the collar of his shirt.
‘Come on in, Amy.’ He stretches out an arm and shakes my hand warmly. His voice is strong but gentle. ‘Did you find the house okay?’
‘Oh yes, your directions were perfect, thanks.’
He shows me into an airy conservatory filled with plants, and indicates a sofa for me to sit on.
He settles into an easy chair opposite. It’s lovely in here.
The natural light is fabulous – an artist could work in this – and the temperature is perfect.
You know how most conservatories seem to be either too hot or too cold?
But not this one. This one is just right.
Despite the strangeness of the situation, I’m feeling completely at ease.
‘Tea?’ There’s a tea tray laid out on a low table.
‘Thanks, that would be lovely.’
He pours us each a cup. It’s something herbal and it smells divine. Not one of those overpowering fruit teas – this has a delicate scent, maybe some jasmine in there.
‘So, you want to reach out to spirit. I know you mentioned it was your boyfriend who’d passed. Is there a particular reason for communicating with him right now?’
‘I just need to know he’s out there. I don’t want him to forget about me. I need to ask him to wait for me,’ I can’t help blurting out, probably sounding a little more desperate than I intended.
‘Well, I’m so sorry the spiritual evening didn’t work out.
I went along to check out that new medium, and unfortunately she’s the sort of person who can bring mediumship into disrepute.
’ He shakes his head and looks at me apologetically, as if he feels in some way responsible for everyone in the medium industry.
‘And have you managed to contact your boyfriend before?’ he asks.
‘Not really. Well, I’m not sure. There was this one time when we did a séance – with some friends, and there were some possible signs, but it probably wasn’t anything to do with him. Definitely nothing clear.’
‘Well, that can sometimes be a problem, especially in the early months after someone’s passed, and things aren’t always clear.
But let’s see what we can find out today for you.
’ And now Mark goes very quiet, staring into the distance, and then closes his eyes.
My heart is almost bursting with desperation. I so want to hear from James.
‘There’s a man coming through for you.’
‘Oh my god.’
‘Medium height.’
‘Oh.’ James was tall – just over six foot. Although maybe he’s not near yet, maybe he’ll look taller close up.
‘Grey hair.’
‘Oh, no.’ James is blond. Surely he can’t have gone grey in heaven? ‘No, that doesn’t sound like—’