My Psychic Casebook: The amazing secrets of the world’s most respected department-store medium

When I was very small – just four years of age – I woke in the night in terror. I knew there was something on the floor between my bed and my sister’s bed. The house was quiet – my parents and my two brothers were sound asleep – but the sense of another presence, so close to me, was deafening. And when I saw him, I panicked. Raised as a Christian, I thought, This is the Devil! I tried to scream for my parents but I didn’t want my sister to wake up and see what I saw … and what if he moved? So I turned back to face the wall, covered my head with the blanket and just wished him away. I prayed, If I make myself go to sleep now, please, please make him disappear.

I woke early the next morning and stared at the empty floor. I was expecting to see a white blanket or white towel there, something to explain what I had seen, but it was impossible. There was only clean, brown carpet. But I knew a man was there last night, sleeping next to me … and he was all iridescent white.

I can’t say my childhood was a happy one. There was emotional and mental abuse, and I don’t remember enjoying being a child or a teenager. Yet whenever I was going through a dark and difficult time, I would hear that calming breathing sound next to me. At first I thought I was imagining it or it was just the breeze. During my teens, when things were probably at their worst, I seemed to hear him more often. It didn’t matter when or where I was – daytime, night-time, driving in my car – he always seemed to be with me when I needed some kind of comfort. I became so used to the sound of him that I’d even joke, ‘There’s my guardian angel again,’ and I began to actively like him. I felt peaceful when he was around. He soothed me with his calming breath, and that sound became my friend.

I kept my breathing angel to myself for years, and told no one – until one weekend when, on a whim, I went away to stay with a friend, Sienna. I hadn’t seen my flatmate Helen before I left and she didn’t know that I’d be away, so when I arrived back home on the Sunday evening I was looking forward to a good catch-up. When I mentioned I’d spent the weekend at Sienna’s, Helen blurted, ‘No, Annie, you were home this weekend!’

‘Helen, I wasn’t home. I stayed at Sienna’s house last night …’

‘No, you were home. I could hear you sleeping in your bed! There was this loud breathing sound coming from your bedroom! You were there – I heard you!’

At that point I went cold with goosebumps and my face froze. Helen saw my reaction and I broke down in tears.

‘I cannot believe you’ve just said that!’ I sobbed, shocked that after all these years the secret was out. ‘That’s my angel or spirit guide who sleeps next to me and makes those breathing sounds …’ and I imitated the sound for her and she confirmed, ‘That’s it!’

For Helen to have witnessed it felt like a miracle, a confirmation that my angel really existed. Now my ‘invisible friend’ was a part of me. I knew he was a good spirit. Funny, he even stayed in my bed when I went out of town. And he even flew to my bedside in hospital when I had open-heart surgery eight years later, making me feel safe as ever with his calming breath.

When, in my thirties, I finally met the man I was to marry, I felt as if the universe had sent another angel to rescue me. My life had been such a struggle, but at last I had found true, genuine love with Michael. I was finally happy, and all I had prayed for and wished for finally came true … perhaps my angel had listened to me?

Soon we were trying for a baby, and I got pregnant first time. It felt wonderful to extend our love into a family. For some reason, I knew I was having a girl, which was my dream come true.

‘Well, if we have a girl, let’s name her something positive and beautiful,’ Michael mused. The name came instantly into my mind. I said, ‘A-ha! How about Angel?’

‘That’s it! Love that name!’

Angel was born on 9 March 2011. The last time I heard my guardian angel’s breathing was during the first trimester of pregnancy. Now I can see, feel and touch this beautiful spirit that became my daughter. I love to listen to her sleep, and her breath, the very essence of her life, reminds me of him.

Thank you, my little Angel.

Jayne’s Wisdom

This very special story shows that angels are with us right through our lives. Annie’s angel protected her through her difficult childhood until she met the man she was destined to be with. After Annie and Michael were married, the angel manifested into their beautiful child, a symbol of their enduring love. Annie’s husband is her protector now. I wish them every happiness.

Chapter 2

The Children Who Saw Spirits (#uf0749de0-cd08-5beb-a859-098cedcf67b2)

Once of my clients, Nita, is a systems analyst. Her husband is a finance manager for a high-street bank. I’ve read for both individuals, and they are rationalists: they need proof of spirit, which I was able to give them for a close relative who had passed. But one of the other reasons Nita came to me was out of concern for her daughter Sal, seven years old, and her son Ty, nine. The family had just moved countries to a new home.

‘Mum, it’s so pretty in here,’ Sal had told Nita. ‘Look at all the colours!’

‘What colours?’ Nita had asked.

Nita said, ‘We were unpacking yet another box in a dark sitting room – we had no curtains at the window. Dusk was drawing in, and I was thinking about putting the lights on. Then Sal said, “Pink, a kind of light blue, green … like a rainbow.” Then she began skipping around the room, generally enjoying herself.

‘“It’s getting dark in here, sweetheart,” I said, gently.

‘“No, it’s not, not with the colours …”’

Nita didn’t disagree with her daughter Sal, but instead filed it away for future discussion with her husband. This wasn’t the first instance of an odd experience in the house. While the adults had noticed nothing untoward, Nita’s son, Ty, was convinced there were more people living there than on the rental agreement they’d just signed.

‘There’s a man, Mummy,’ he’d said, pointing at the long, wide hallway. Nita had looked up, but saw no one there, and nothing reflected in the newly polished parquet floor.

‘What does he look like, then?’ Nita had decided to play along.

‘He’s quite small and old, but he looks a bit like Daddy. He’s got a long white shirt on like Daddy wears when we go to the temple.’

Nita then told me that her husband confirmed the man was actually his grandfather, whom he’d never met. ‘Mikael, my husband, had a photo of him, though, so he went to fetch it. He said, “First, tell me what our son said.” So I gave him the description. Then Mikael turned over the photo. And there was a small-boned man, with short, dark hair and my husband’s eyes. And he was wearing a long white chemise.’

I linked in to Nita’s son. ‘He is very spiritual,’ I began. ‘He doesn’t just sense spirits, he sees them in physical form – just as if he’s seeing you or me.

‘I feel this grandfather is with you in your home to protect you,’ I explained. ‘There’s nothing dark or problematic with your house; it’s just that sometimes loved ones visit when you’re about to embark on a new phase of your life. And he wants to be around when the new baby comes.’

‘How did you know we were trying for a baby?’ Nita exclaimed.

‘You son has seen her already, and it’s a little girl. She’s waiting to be born.’

Five months later, Nita came for another reading.

‘I’m pregnant, and it’s a girl,’ she smiled, running her hand over her growing bump.

In cases such as this, I advise parents not to be too concerned about their children’s experiences, provided they are not causing them any distress. We all have psychic ability, particularly as children, and often ‘grow out of it’ – although some of us don’t!

When I was six years old, I had a friend called Adele. I didn’t realise that no one else in my family could see her. I played with her every week when we went to my gran’s house. Adele lived next door, and I’d usually find her playing on the high wall at the bottom of the garden. I’d have to ask her to come down and play with me on the grass, which she did. I’d show her my dolls, we’d make up a game and then my gran would come out with some juice. I never understood why she only brought one cup. When Gran went back into the house to talk with Mum, I’d offer Adele a sip of juice, but she always said no. She was a tiny little thing, with plaits and a buttoned-up dress like the girls we saw in picture books on the Victorians. I remember thinking she looked a bit strange, but I was just grateful for someone else to play with. I had lots of brothers and sisters at home so it felt natural for me to be playing with other children all the time. I wasn’t used to being on my own.

I told my mum about Adele after a few weeks. Mum was pretty open-minded about spiritual matters – more than I realised. She went to spiritualist church regularly, and started taking me with her when I was nine or ten years old. Mum didn’t criticise or mock me for talking about Adele. She didn’t say much, but I felt she kind of accepted it. She didn’t push me to ‘prove’ my invisible friend existed, or give evidence that I had any kind of special talent – unlike my client Georgia.

Georgia had lost her husband three years before we met in my reading room at Selfridges. She’d flown in from Italy for a business meeting the previous day, and decided to pop in for a reading before her flight home that evening.

I brought her husband in spirit through. She needed to know he was okay, and I gave her some messages from him. But I had the feeling she’d heard it all before. So why was she here?

‘My son is very intuitive,’ she said, after a pause. And then I saw a clear picture of him: a teenager, athletic – and very sensitive spiritually.

‘He’s been bringing messages through to you from his dad,’ I said, as her husband in spirit continued to talk to me through my inner voice.

‘Yes,’ she confirmed, only half smiling.

‘Your husband says, “Stop putting pressure on him.”’ At this, Georgia looked really irritated with me.

‘What do you mean?’ she retorted, taking a sip of water, a frown spreading over her brow. ‘We get on really well. We’re very close.’

‘He can’t keep doing this for you any more. It’s not fair …’

‘But he could always link to his father, since he passed away when my son was nine, and I don’t understand why he won’t do it now.’ Her anger was really starting to come out now. What has she been doing to this child?

‘Georgia, your son linked to your husband easily at first. He’s naturally gifted, and the trauma of the sudden death of his father opened up what I’d describe as a strong portal to the spirit realm.

‘But now he’s a teenager, he’s growing out of this: he doesn’t want to do it any more. When he’s older he might be drawn to spiritual work, if that’s his path, but this has to be his choice.’