Книга - The Baby Mind Reader: Amazing Psychic Stories from the Man Who Can Read Babies’ Minds

The Baby Mind Reader: Amazing Psychic Stories from the Man Who Can Read Babies’ Minds
Derek Ogilvie


Psychic Derek Ogilvie is the baby mind reader – called in when parents have tried all else, Derek communicates with children to find the reasons behind their problem behaviour, tantrums and sleepless nights.Derek Ogilvie is one of Scotland's best-known and respected psychics. He can be seen on Five TV in 2006 with his new show ‘The Baby Mind Reader’, where he exhibits his rare ability of being able to communicate telepathically with babies and young children.In this, his fascinating first book published alongside his TV series, Derek shares the story of his rollercoaster life and how he rediscovered his psychic powers and his true calling in life.At the age of nine Derek realised he was psychic when his dead neighbour started visiting him every night while he was in bed. But as a young man, Derek’s psychic abilities took a back seat as he concentrated on building a business empire and becoming a millionaire.However, five years ago, Derek’s business went bust, his house was repossessed, his partner left him and his grandmother died. Only then did Derek take stock of his life and reconnect with his psychic gift to start helping other people. It was at this point that Derek realised he could also communicate with babies and young children, as well as animals.Funny and poignant, this is Derek’s amazing story.













Copyright (#ulink_d8793b50-fd57-5f4b-ba1b-04484dba0256)

HarperElement

An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

The website address is www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)

First published by HarperElement 2006

© Girlie Whirlie Media Ltd 2006

Derek Ogilvie asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.

Source ISBN 9780007229345

Ebook Edition © March 2015 ISBN: 9780008140649

Version: 2015-03-16


Dedication (#ulink_0b881fed-4f75-55ae-8cb4-b510d5f645c3)

To whom much is given, much is expected in return.

For Casper, Beryl and Mo, and to all who have helped me in whatever way possible, large or small, on this incredible journey.


Contents

Cover (#ud05bfd5c-085b-5f76-aaa2-c104188f27ca)

Title Page (#u304ae100-398f-5afd-b9e0-c0b176522987)

Copyright (#ulink_a34a3176-5100-58bf-8fb8-d18bf057ee6a)

Dedication (#ulink_a62ddd3f-c885-54d5-b551-e830f5837859)

1 In the beginning (#ulink_267fe8cc-15cd-56f0-abb8-8270a99b5cc7)

2 Doing the business (#ulink_8118c056-bcc8-50ff-ade6-d5619836308e)

3 Learning to use my psychic gift (#ulink_67977f05-764d-5e90-98d7-6cf94605df7f)

4 My first psychic show (#ulink_32cba03b-c63e-5cb1-8364-cbe76a97fb03)

5 Getting into print (#litres_trial_promo)

6 Becoming a baby mind reader (#litres_trial_promo)

7 Spreading the word (#litres_trial_promo)

8 Understanding my gift – how I communicate with babies (#litres_trial_promo)

9 Words and pictures – how babies communicate with me (#litres_trial_promo)

10 Putting it all together (#litres_trial_promo)

11 Elizabeth’s story – a need for security (#litres_trial_promo)

12 Jacob’s story – the terrible twos (#litres_trial_promo)

13 Madison’s story – ruling the roost (#litres_trial_promo)

14 Teagan’s story – out of control (#litres_trial_promo)

15 Lilly’s story – the baby who hit her mother (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


In the beginning (#ulink_1dac7855-30b6-55d9-876f-41846a7d18e7)

I’ve always had an affinity with children. In fact, I don’t know any other adult who gets on with children better than I do. If someone asks me my age, I tell them that I am 40 years old. Deep down though, I’m really only eight. I’ve always felt eight years old, apart from when I was younger than eight, when I felt my real age. Now, no matter how many birthdays I’ve had, I’ve never really grown up. I’m not Peter Pan and would never want to be. I have the body of a 40-year-old man but in my mind I know the truth: I am eight to those in the know and 40 to those who aren’t. I am a child at heart and always will be.

Apart from being eight, I am also a psychic medium. I help those on the other side to communicate with the loved ones they’ve left behind. Actually, that’s not totally true. I don’t communicate with the spirit world – spirits communicate with me. I’ve also been talking to babies and small children telepathically for a number of years. I know that in some people’s minds this is even stranger than talking to the dead, but in many ways it’s almost exactly the same. The difference is that I only occasionally see the dead, whereas I always see the children I connect with. The dead communicate with me on three levels, as do children: I can hear, see and feel the energy that both dead people and children send me. Sometimes I get a little stressed out, especially if I have a number of dead people or children talking to me at the same time. Luckily, every signal is sent to me on a different frequency so I never get confused, no matter how many babies or ghosts are in the same room! It’s very much like the different stations on a radio. Sometimes these differences are rather subtle but I’ve grown to understand them very well over time.

I love my job and enjoy the work that I do. If someone had told me years ago, when I was running my music shop or making my million in the bar and club world, that I’d be doing what I am now, I’d have told them they were off their head. It’s funny how life turns out in the end, and isn’t it strange how your dreams may stay just dreams if you don’t trust in them enough?

I have many memories of the hopes and dreams that I had as a child and then as a young man. Since then there have been happy and sad times, huge successes and bitter disappointments, friendships I’ve kindled and pals I’ve lost along the way. I realize that I am lucky. I haven’t lost faith and am still enjoying this rollercoaster ride called life.

I’d no idea that babies and toddlers could communicate telepathically with me until I visited a young mum for a private reading in her home. Normally I would ask for there to be no distractions, but she hadn’t been able to find a baby-sitter for her daughter, who was around two-and-a-half years old.

I vividly remember sitting in her flat in Glasgow. There were a couple of spirits there that I’d noticed the minute I entered her home. However, I instantly became aware that her child’s psychic energy was very strong. I could feel her trying to communicate with me in a way I’d never known before. I really wanted to start talking to the spirits who were in the room but she and I immediately connected, and the images she sent to me came thick and fast. Surprisingly, I could easily picture them in my head. These images were also very easy to understand, much easier than the messages I’d sometimes get from the spirit world. I could feel the build-up of this information in the centre of my brain and I just couldn’t hold back the words. I opened up and started telling her mum lots of details about her life.

‘Your daughter’s telling me that she loves Jaffa Cakes. She wants you to get her one from the kitchen.’

‘Yes, she seems to like them. She cries for them all the time,’ said the now bewildered mum. ‘How on earth did you know that?’

‘She also tells me that her daddy is a taxi driver and has been separated from you since your daughter was a baby.’

The little girl went on to tell me that her tummy had been sore for a few days and that she liked to go driving with her granny in the red car, although her granny smoked and always kept the front passenger window open. ‘Your daughter loves the bucket and spade that her granny just bought her. She’s looking forward to going to the seaside and playing with it.’ All these details rolled off my tongue, just as if a spirit had told me. It was like a normal conversation, although this wasn’t normal at all. No-one had uttered a word. The information had all come from this young child to me through our minds. Nothing else!

I recall the mum’s reaction as if it were yesterday. She freaked! I remember having to think on my feet and panicking inside about what to do as I wanted to appear in control of the situation. I just stayed as cool as I could and quickly tried to calm her down and appease her by telling her that her child was obviously very clever. Inside, however, I was praying that this was a one-off and that this young girl was just special in some way and had a gift like mine. I knew I had to carry on with the reading in order to bring some normality back to the proceedings so I tried to contact the spirits she had initially wanted to receive messages from. Spirits did come through, thankfully, and the rest of the evening went without a hitch.

My experience with this mum and her child left a bad taste in my mouth. The last thing I wanted was to upset anyone through my work. On the way home in the car I was still pretty shocked. Was this occurrence really a one-off? Maybe I had some amazing gift that had been lying dormant for years, or perhaps I’d been ignoring another aspect of my psychic abilities. Were most babies and toddlers psychic, and if they were could they all communicate fairly easily with me?

When I think about my childhood, my mum was always around. There doesn’t seem to have been a moment when she wasn’t cuddling me or reassuring me that things would be all right. My mum really loved me, and I was a very lucky little boy to have someone who cared so much about my wellbeing. I love my mum and suppose I’ve always been a bit of a mummy’s boy. Mum’s been a tower of strength when I’ve needed her and an adviser when I sometimes didn’t, but she’s always been there through thick and thin, and that’s been a blessing to me.

It hasn’t all been a bed of roses though. Mum’s been great – don’t get me wrong – but she and I have had the strangest relationship over the years. Like many mothers and sons, we know how to hurt each other and how to wind each other up. Mum and I now seem to have an understanding. I think we are just beginning to come to terms with our differing personalities. It’s a pity it’s taken all this time.

In some ways I’ve always felt a disappointment to my mum. When I was a child, she’d tell me I was going to make a fine husband and dad. This made me feel bitter because I knew, even from a very early age, that this would never happen. I think that’s why I’d get so angry with mum when she’d say something that upset me. I just wanted her to love me and not the person she thought I was. I felt awful about that.

I was also highly sensitive and a bit of a loner as a child. I would love just being at home, and would disappear into my own little world with my Lego set or watch Blue Peter on television. Mum would always get upset with me because I wasn’t out playing and getting into mischief with the other boys on our street. I guess it was around that time when I started to get a bit of a chip on my shoulder about life. My attitude was ‘I’m going to show everyone when I’m older that I’m as good as them.’

I was born in Paisley, Scotland, in 1965, the younger of two children. My loving sister Elaine was four years older, and very protective of me. Like any brother and sister, though, we fought like cat and dog when we were young. Elaine used to pull my hair whenever we had a fallout. To this day I blame her for my lack of thatch on top!

My dad was a heating engineer who worked for British Airways at Glasgow Airport. He has always had a wonderful work ethic and I have learnt a great deal from him. When I was a youngster, however, there were times when I didn’t see dad for days or even weeks. He would come home from work, have dinner and then disappear into the night in order to plumb in someone’s washing machine or sort out some problem with their central heating. Dad tells me that he never let anyone down and always turned up for a job, no matter what. If only today’s workmen lived by those rules.

It would be really interesting at this point to mention that I was the son of the seventh son of a seventh son, but I wasn’t. My dad did have five other brothers but he was his parent’s sixth son and that, I’m afraid, is that. My dad had an Aunt Minnie, though, who was a fortune-teller. Minnie seemingly used to hold psychic nights in her house in St James’s Street in Paisley and read people’s tea leaves. I never met Aunt Minnie but my father assures me that she was the real deal. He told me that Aunt Minnie met with him one night when he was still courting my mum and, after the obligatory cup of tea, read his leaves. She told him that within two or three years he’d be working at Glasgow Airport and would fly all over the world with an airline. True to form she was right. I don’t think I’ve inherited any of Aunt Minnie’s gifts, though, since I’m not a fortune-teller, but I would like to have met her. I’m sure there’s always a chance that she’ll come through to visit me when she has the time.

I believe we are all born psychic, and we either choose to use our gifts or we don’t. It’s as simple as that. From day one, I always felt different from everyone else, although until I was much older I couldn’t put my finger on what that difference was and what it would mean to me. When I was around nine or ten, I knew that I definitely had a sixth sense. I remember sensing things that my friends or family couldn’t. Although I couldn’t tell the future or what a baby or young child was thinking, I did have something. I just didn’t know what my abilities were or what they really meant to me, and I never paid that much attention to them.

Around that time our elderly next-door neighbour passed away. For months afterwards I could feel his presence in my bedroom. It was then that I realized what I could sense. I could see dead people! His ghost, or what I now know to be his spirit, used to come and stand at my bedroom door when I was tucked up in bed, and he would stare at me for hours! The funny thing is that I didn’t find this in the least bit scary. I just went along with it and it didn’t really bother me at all. I would try to force myself not to go to sleep, just in case I missed out on getting a message from him or – more importantly for me, being someone who believed in God – instructions from what I understood to be heaven. That battle was seldom won, though, and I’d always fall asleep before anything was said! Strangely, over those few months as I fought back the tiredness, he never uttered a word to me and he never changed his expression. He just looked and smiled and that was it. He seemed to be content, though, which pleased me greatly, and no longer in any of the pain he’d experienced before he died.

My ghostly visitor left me with mixed feelings at the time. Although I was pleased that he was okay, this was tinged with a little disappointment since I felt that without some form of communication between us, no-one would believe my story. I decided not to give my parents or his family any information about him as I had no means of providing proof that he was coming through to visit me from the other side. I was also reluctant to tell people because I didn’t want to appear strange or, God forbid, different. I just put this down to being me and kept my mouth shut.

Over the years my sixth sense has never left me. I’ve always known it was there, although I chose to ignore it many times in my life when I felt I had other, more important issues to deal with. If only I’d paid it a little more attention!

I had a fairly normal childhood. I say ‘fairly’ because if I am honest – which for the first time is probably now as I write this – I was never 100-per-cent happy. I always felt that I never really fitted in. I always felt different.

I didn’t have a lot of friends as I never wanted to do what other boys did. Because I didn’t like rough-and-tumble games I was thought of as a bit of a sissy. I was awful at football and as this was the benchmark for how cool you were, I would always be looking over my shoulder, especially at school, in case someone wanted to pick on me and have a fight.

I hated school. I just didn’t want to be there, although my primary school days weren’t that bad. I think this was because I felt special then. I was very clever and always excelled in maths and anything associated with music. I started playing the accordion and singing when I was eight, and from then on wanted to be on the stage or television. I believed that this was my calling. I remember making up my mind from that early age that music would be my way out of the humdrum life that everyone around me seemed to be living.

From the age of nine or ten, I began to tell anyone who asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up that I was going to be a millionaire and would make my money from being in the music business. How strange, then, that this was to be exactly what would happen. I must have been giving out psychic messages when I was a child, even though I didn’t realize it at the time!

My gran has undoubtedly been the most influential person in my life. I was always very close to her. She was, and still is, a wonderful woman. Kind, considerate and the perfect hostess, she was always happy to see me or anyone who came to visit her. Since she crossed over into the spirit world six years ago, my gran has been my guiding light, and I see it as no coincidence that my talents as a psychic have soared since she passed away. I don’t think that my gran is necessarily my spirit guide, though. She is watching over me and does give me advice when I need it (and sometimes when I think I don’t!) but it’s a common misconception that when a close relative passes away they immediately become our guide in the afterlife. Relatives and friends may come through with messages for us and be looking out for us, but that doesn’t mean they are our guides or guardian angels.

When I was a youngster, my gran was very supportive and always encouraged me in whatever I did. This is still happening even now but it’s being shown in a different way. It seems significant that my gran was taken from me when I most needed her to be by my side and yet she has helped me more than I could ever have dreamed of now she is in spirit. When I was a youngster, I thought I loved her, but over the years I’ve grown to understand that our relationship is much stronger than that. It’s a bond that will never be broken.

I can now see how after-death communication is so precious to those who seek it. The connection I have with my gran is so important to me and something I really treasure.

I remember Christmas Day 1976 as clearly as if it were yesterday. Sitting at the dining table with mum and dad and the rest of the family, I started feeling very, very strange. Something inside my head just clicked and I became fully aware of everyone and everything around me. I could feel other people’s pain. I could feel lots of energy, more than I’d ever been conscious of before. I became more vibrant, alert and complete. My brain seemed to have exploded and expanded, and I was suddenly aware of more than I had ever known previously. These few seconds of time were to change my life forever.

Everyone who was sitting around the table with me on that eventful Christmas Day was totally oblivious to this. They carried on eating and having a chat. However, experiencing this totally crazy event had changed me. I now felt that I was a piece of the people around me and in them. I was a piece of everything and in everything. I was still me, Derek, but I was also aware of this something else. This was something I wouldn’t get to grips with for another 20 years, something I would put to sleep in my head and try to ignore until it resurfaced at the most unlikely time in my life.

During my final couple of years at primary school I became very friendly with my classmate Susan Lee and her younger brother Graeme. Graeme was eighteen months younger than me but we were around the same height and build and looked to be the same age. Graeme and I got on well and never fought or fell out. There was another boy who played in the street whose name was Eamonn and he was a year older than me. Graeme and I were inseparable during the long summer holidays. Things changed, though, when I went to secondary school and we didn’t see each other much after that. Eventually we lost contact. I regret that because I really loved him.

Graeme died on 28 March 1984, when he was 17. I was 19 at the time and had just come home from college when mum gave me the news. My gran had been to visit us the previous day and had mentioned that the bus she’d been on had driven past a car accident. I hadn’t given this a second thought, and would never have dreamt for one second that Graeme would be the only passenger fatally injured in that crash. His death really affected me, though I kept those feelings close to my chest. Graeme was my first love and I’ve never told anyone until this moment. I couldn’t even tell him. I was too scared to do something like that. It was the 1970s, and being gay wasn’t as accepted as it is now. I was just an 11-year-old boy confused about my feelings for my closest friend, and that was that. I kept it quiet and tried to deal with it in the best way I could. I was glad that Graeme stopped calling me when I went to high school, and we didn’t see each other as often. It hurt me just to be around him because I loved him so much. I did see Graeme when it was his turn to come up to the big school. I kept my distance from him, though, because I still had feelings for him and didn’t want to be friends for all the wrong reasons. I respected him too much for that.

I miss Graeme to this day and think about him. What would he be like now? Would he and I have kept in touch? Would he have a wife and family and have reached his full potential in life?

When I think about Graeme it just makes the pain of his loss all the harder to bear. Graeme’s spirit has been to visit me on a few occasions, and as I write this he is by my side. He usually turns up when Eamonn and I are together, when I’m least expecting it, and sends us both messages. He loves to talk about the countless games of football and badminton we played when we were just boys. He misses those days and us as much as we miss him. He now realizes I had feelings for him and laughs about it with me, which is amazing. I loved Graeme, and although it’s taken me 30 years to say it, I’m glad that I have. Those were great days and he was the best friend I ever had.

During my first couple of years at secondary school I found it very difficult to fit in. My cheery demeanour was just a front. Deep down, I hated just about every second of school life. I didn’t want to tell my mum and dad or let on to anyone about my problems because I was worried what their reaction would be. I couldn’t let anyone into my real world. How could I tell friends I could sense things I thought they couldn’t? And, more importantly, how could I tell them I was gay? I just kept my head down and tried to get through those horrid days as quickly as possible.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t change how I felt about boys, and this was beginning to prove embarrassing for me at school. I would get flustered when I saw boys I liked, and found it difficult to hide these emotions. Inside, I became very angry about my situation. From this point in my life, I became determined to be a successful person. I wanted to hit back at the world for inflicting me with this ‘gay disease’ and giving me a sixth sense.

Around this time I stopped sensing the spirit world. Almost immediately, I became very insecure about myself and started to worry about what people thought of me. It was difficult enough knowing I was different because I was gay, but this was exacerbated by my ability to tune in to classmates and feel their energy. By my third or fourth year, I started finding it difficult to sit in class without having panic attacks, so I started sitting at the back whenever I could to hide away from everyone. I’d got it into my head that because I could feel energy, everyone else could as well. I thought that they just dealt with it better than me, which was why they hadn’t mentioned it! Looking back, all of this seems crazy, but it was my way of dealing with my issues. Deep down I knew I was on my way to having an emotional breakdown.

I was clever at school but in no way reached my full potential. I struggled through my final years of schooling, sat my exams and ended up with enough qualifications to go to the local technical college. In many ways it was decided for me that I should do an engineering degree, so in order not to upset the apple cart I applied, signed the forms and was accepted.

I hated my course. I just didn’t want to be an engineer. I wanted to be a pop star and on television. The problem was that I didn’t know how to go about doing this so I forced myself to go to college and get a qualification, just in case my pop career didn’t take off. It wasn’t to be one of my better decisions.

I didn’t fit in at college from day one. I wasn’t the engineering type and had no real aptitude for or interest in it. In my second year, I had what I thought was a nervous breakdown. When I initially went to the doctor and told him I was having panic attacks on the bus and hot flushes in lectures, he told me I was just going through an awkward stage in my life. He suggested I might subconsciously be finding the pressures of college life a little difficult, and struggling to come to terms with the possibility that my childhood dreams weren’t going to become reality. It was all very man-to-man, ‘it’s time to grow up’ stuff but I knew there was more to it than that. I understood the reasons better than anyone but didn’t want to share them in case I was ridiculed.

I went along with the doctor’s theory that the pressures of college had made me unwell. This was not a total lie because I did hate every second of it. However, the truth was that I was finding it really difficult to cope with being gay and couldn’t handle lying about my sexuality any longer. Additionally, I was even more conscious of energy at that time, and could ‘feel’ things from people, especially my fellow students. I could sense their health problems and personal issues which, quite honestly, were sometimes a great deal more than I needed to know. I really thought I was going mad. I knew I had some sort of sixth sense but hadn’t realized why I had it or, more importantly, how I should use this ability. At that time it was more of a hindrance than a blessing, and I thought I needed some professional help in order to get these crazy thoughts out of my head.

I was never honest with the psychologist who was assigned to look after me. Within the first few minutes of meeting her I realized that all she understood had been programmed into her by her profession, a profession that had a total disregard for all things psychic. I had to face reality – what I thought I needed wasn’t going to come from her.

What I’d been trying to cope with was draining me every day. I was exhausted, both mentally and psychically. My nervous breakdown took its toll, and I was forced to repeat my second year at college. When I went back to college after the summer break I felt slightly better about myself. I was more confident and was beginning to come to terms with my situation, albeit in a rather weird way. I had made some decisions during the holidays. I was going to put my worries about being gay and psychic in a little box, lock it and throw away the key. I decided that the more I ignored my issues, the less they would worry me and the happier I would become. I didn’t even stop to contemplate what this decision could do to me psychologically. I would pretend I was just a normal, straight guy, and this was the image I would portray to my new college buddies.

My new fellow students were very different to the ones I’d been with in my previous years. They were friendlier and more socially aware, and I quickly made friends with a group of boys who would become a great influence in my life, although I didn’t know it at the time.

One summer, I was looking to make some money, and one of my college pals, John, offered to go busking with me in Glasgow. John played guitar and I accompanied him on my accordion. We both had a go at singing but after a few hours it started to rain and we tried to find somewhere to shelter. John noticed that there was a music shop nearby so we went along to have a look as he was thinking about getting a new guitar.

I hit it off immediately with the music shop owner, Peter Bryce. I suddenly realized that if I bought a few guitars out of local papers or from students at college I could clean them up and sell them on in my new-found friend’s music shop, hopefully making a profit. Within a few months, after much negotiation and wheeling and dealing, The Guitar Store in Glasgow was born. I had new dreams now and knew that I had to follow them or I would be miserable for the rest of my life, so I left college during my finals, much to mum and dad’s annoyance, and set my sights on being a businessman.


Doing the business (#ulink_80879d2a-9eb7-53e9-b03c-9976834a3ad9)

The success of my new business was astounding. I was now running The Guitar Store on a full-time basis. Within a year I’d bought out my business partner, Peter, the owner of the original shop. I put every hour God sent into making that shop work. I needed something to concentrate on so I would forget about my sexuality and dim my sixth sense. The Guitar Store flourished and I moved to new premises in Hope Street in Glasgow in 1988.

I kept working hard, building up the business over the next few years until I sold it in 1994 to a major music manufacturer and wholesaler. By that time I’d worked non-stop for seven years and was totally burnt out. I needed time off. After a protracted negotiation period, I walked away with around £200,000 from my deal and started to think about my next move. The amount wasn’t anywhere near the magic million figure, but at least I was on my way to my dream.

I’d been working hard and making good money so I liked to splash the cash now and again. Looking back, I now realize this was the start of my problems with money. I had reached a stage in my life when I felt I needed money in order to be me. Money had become my God and I hadn’t noticed it.

During the summer of 1994, I made the biggest decision of my life: I told the world that I was gay. It was during that time that my psychic abilities took a hold of me and soared. I think that at the moment I was honest with myself about my sexuality I just became me – the whole me, not just the pretend me who had tried for years to fit into the heterosexual world. There was no more pretence and no more lies to hide behind. I was free.

To my surprise, no-one was offended by my revelation. It was the release I needed, and in some way it helped me come to terms with the dramatic event that had taken place at the Christmas dining table all those years before.

It was then that I decided to try my luck in the bar and club world, an area of business I thought would help me achieve my childhood goal. I still wanted to be a millionaire! I bought my first bar, Mojo, for £250,000.

During my time working in Mojo I noticed that my psychic abilities as a medium started to become more pronounced. Within the first few days, it became fairly obvious to me that the building was haunted. The ghost who would come to try and talk to me seemed, from the information I managed to get from her, to be stuck there, as if she was in some sort of time warp. She was always tearful, and I knew from the emotions that would run through me when I connected with her that she needed help quickly.

I was very inexperienced at that time, so through a friend of a friend I managed to locate a medium whom I thought would be able to help me deal with my spiritual encounter. The medium was helpful but honest enough to tell me that she was also out of her depth. I therefore decided to bring in the ‘heavy squad’, and located a couple of Glasgow University chaps who were part of a psychic society and asked them to come and sort it out for me. They did and were incredibly helpful. After much investigation, they told me that the ghostly presence I had been tuning in to was the spirit of a prostitute who had been murdered in the early 1920s in the building, and that she had obviously been seeking help to cross over fully into the spirit world. Thankfully, she had come across me, someone whom she knew could communicate with the dead, and had just managed to get her message through. We arranged for a priest to come to the bar and bless it in order for the prostitute’s spirit to be given the peace she’d been craving for nearly 80 years.

I started to see my first boyfriend, Michael, around the time I opened Mojo. Michael, a teacher, was very supportive when I began doing psychic readings for friends and family. His encouragement really helped me come to terms with my sixth sense.

Within a year of opening Mojo, I had achieved more than I thought possible. The bar was doing great and had become one of the coolest bars in Glasgow. However, I was beginning to get itchy feet. It was therefore a great relief when, in the summer of 1996, I received a call telling me that someone wanted to buy Mojo for £620,000. I jumped at the chance.

My next bar project, Ocho, also made me a great deal of money. Because it was doing so well, in 1998 I decided to sell it and open another bar in Glasgow, Bar Budda. I’d always wanted to be a nightclub operator as it seemed a cool thing to do, and work on Budda Club started in late 1998. During the renovation of Budda Club, located above Bar Budda, we went from one crisis to another. The budgets went through the roof, but somehow we managed to open for business in late December, just in time for the Christmas and New Year period.

Michael and I were working totally opposite hours at that time. I would be going to work when he was asleep and coming home just a few hours before he was due to get up for work. This issue, along with the advent of financial worries, started to put quite a strain on our relationship, so I wasn’t that surprised when Michael asked me to sleep in a separate bedroom.

By March 1999 I was beginning to panic when I noticed that the club’s fortunes were not turning in the right direction. I’m not proud to say it, but I was losing my nerve. For some strange reason, I just knew that this was the beginning of the end.

Michael had bought me some books for Christmas that I’d still not read by March. One night, in order to escape from the worries of life, I decided to read Richard Branson’s Losing my Virginity. I now wish that I hadn’t. I came across a couple of very interesting chapters that I felt had been written just for my benefit. I noticed that when the Virgin empire was in financial trouble, Richard expanded his company to increase cash flow. This gave him time to reconstruct his business and keep the creditors from the door. This, I thought, would be my plan too. I’d open up a couple more bars with borrowed money from the brewers, who at that time didn’t know the full extent of my financial troubles, and use the extra cash flow from those bars to pay creditors. This would also buy me time to figure out how to make the club work properly. I was excited and felt back in control again.

Initially, my plan went quite well but by August the club was not making enough money for me to pay my many creditors and also keep the bank happy. To make matters worse, the successful Budda Bar was starting to lose credibility because of its association with the rather uncool club located upstairs.

After much soul-searching, Michael and I decided to sell our beloved home and try to shore up the company with the equity from the sale. It was a terrible wrench and put a further strain on our relationship.

This was one of the most difficult periods of my life. Friends who had made a great deal of money from me over the years were deserting me by the barrowful. People I trusted didn’t return my calls and, worse still, my staff began to lose respect for me. Many left and found other jobs in Glasgow’s overpopulated world of bars and clubs.

Now when things are bad they can get really bad, even when you think they can’t get any worse. One Friday evening in November 1999, I received a call from my lawyer, Brian. He told me I had a major problem. The liquidation accountants were on their way to the Budda Bar to close it down.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. What the hell was going on? I knew nothing about this writ and was totally stunned. I literally dropped everything and ran out of the house. I could hardly breathe and was shaking with fear. There were tears in my eyes and my head was bursting. If I couldn’t get over to Brian’s office as quickly as possible I would be out of business within the hour. I tried desperately to find a taxi but it was almost impossible at that time on a Friday. So I started running. I ran and ran through the streets of Glasgow’s West End in the pouring rain. I’d been running for a good five minutes when I saw a taxi with its ‘for hire’ light on. Within minutes I was at Brian’s office, shaking with fear and in a terrible state.

Brian told me I needed to raise £25,000 by Monday morning to prevent my business being closed down. The weird thing was that the sale of our house was due to be completed the following week, so at the back of my mind I knew that if I could borrow money from somewhere I could repay it almost immediately from our sale proceeds. I lifted the phone and called my dad. He was pretty shocked when I told him about my predicament. He wanted to help but had only around £3,000 in ready cash. If I wanted more, he would have to make some calls and get back to me. True to his word, dad called back within the hour and told me that he could get another £10,000 from a friend of his. I managed to raise the remaining £12,000 from the weekend’s takings at my bars. I thought I was safe. I had bought time.

I don’t know how I got through those dark days of November 1999. I suppose I just dug deep and hoped that things would turn out all right in the end. I was still fairly young and in good health, which meant that I could always start up again in business if I felt the desire to do so. But the magic was slowly disappearing from my world of wheeling and dealing and bars and clubs. I just couldn’t see myself going through the trauma of starting up from scratch if my business went bust.

At this point, I found comfort in knowing that I could – if need be – take my own life. I understand that this may sound rather melodramatic or even selfish, but it was this thought and the ultimate level of control it brought me that really kept me going. No matter how bad things got, I had a get-out clause. It was also strangely comforting to know that I had an insurance policy that would pay out £1 million on my death, even if I committed suicide. If the worst came to the worst at least I’d be able to leave Michael and my family enough money for them to be fairly comfortably off.

I was constantly bombarded with calls from creditors. Unfortunately, there wasn’t that much in the kitty to pay them. I could feel my business slipping away from beneath my feet like quicksand.

When we finally sold our house, it wasn’t the anticipated answer to my financial problems. Once we’d paid off our mortgage with the cash from the sale we were left with approximately £113,000. As soon as the money hit our account the bank manager used some of it to pay off my company overdraft, so we were left with £73,000. The bank manager wasn’t finished though. Michael and I had credit cards, which we had been using for months to buy food and pay bills. Our card bill was sitting at £13,000 so the bank manager took our cards from us, tore them up and paid off the bill. We had £60,000 left but the bank manager still wasn’t finished. By the time I’d paid off some of my debts, I was left with nothing. Not a penny, absolutely nothing. I now had no money to pay back my mum and dad and I was devastated.

Michael and I moved into our new home and were settling in. Christmas was only a few weeks away but we decided not to buy each other presents because we were totally broke and struggling to get by from day to day. I felt terrible for Michael. He’d put so much effort into our relationship and his reward was a house that was soon to be repossessed and a failed business.

I had to laugh when everyone in Budda Club started counting down the final moments of 1999. The worst year of my life was just seconds away from finishing, and what could be the most difficult year ever was just about to start. I hugged Michael. I knew that we wouldn’t last the next 12 months together and I think he did too. We smiled as we held hands and watched the crowds party as the champagne corks popped and the streamers flew all around us. The club was full for once, which was an achievement in itself. I knew that this would be my last time in the place. People would be starting back at work within the next few days and credit managers would be on the phone looking for their money. What a totally crazy situation this was.

That Sunday evening I’d had enough. Budda was in chaos and I had to get away from it. I thought long and hard and decided to go to London. I wasn’t planning on coming back. I remember standing on Tower Bridge one Thursday evening. I hadn’t been sleeping too well and had started taking Night Nurse tablets. They seemed to dim my senses and got me through most days. I looked into the Thames and started to think about climbing onto the railing. The water seemed a long way down. I began to think about my life; all the highs and now the terrible lows. It didn’t seem fair that I’d ended up with so much pain, but I told myself that life wasn’t fair. I didn’t care. I was on my way out of this madness. I put my foot on the railing and started to pull myself up. I managed to get one leg onto the other side when I suddenly heard a voice. It wasn’t the voice of a passer-by. It was all around me, engulfing me. It was in my head but it wasn’t a part of me. It was surreal.

‘Go home and face the music,’ this man’s voice said. ‘You will come through this and will grow from it. This pain will not last forever. Go home Derek.’

I looked around me but there was no-one there. I was shocked. I felt as if someone had just put their arms around me and I was being protected in some way. It was an amazing feeling. It was warm and calming and I felt consumed with love. Somebody somewhere was looking out for me, and I suddenly realized that this message was coming from a greater source than I’d ever known. If this was my guardian angel then I was going to listen to him. No question. I quickly pulled my leg back from the other side of the railing and picked up my bag. I wasn’t shaking or nervous. I was almost being led away from there. So I walked back to the flat, called Michael and asked him to book me a ticket back to Glasgow.

I was tired and lonely but I’d decided to come home. I knew we didn’t have much time left, and that it was a matter of months before our new house would be repossessed. I needed to salvage at least something out of this situation, even if it was only my dignity. After hearing the voice I’d realized that being in London meant that I was running away from my responsibilities.

Within a few days of my return to Glasgow, my gran died. She’d been ill for some time but her death seemed incredibly poignant to me. Was she leaving me now in order to help me out in another way?

Gran’s death left me with an even greater issue. The £3,000 that mum and dad had lent me was gran’s funeral money that she’d been saving up for years. Mum and dad now couldn’t afford to pay for the coffin, the funeral, the lunch or a headstone. I was devastated.

I knew I had to do one final deal and do it quickly. I’d been negotiating the sale of my business for some time, but I wasn’t at all happy with what I was being offered. I wanted to find some other way out of my financial mess. However, I’d reached a stage where I had no choice. On the day we buried my gran, the deal was finally agreed. I called Brian, my old lawyer, when I got back from the funeral, and his advice will stay with me forever. ‘Derek, get out of Glasgow. You have upset many people and they will be coming after you. You aren’t safe.’

When the business was sold its assets didn’t cover all of its liabilities so it went into liquidation. As I personal guarantees to the bank, the brewers and some of my suppliers I had to sell off everything I owned to pay these outstanding debts, but it wasn’t enough and I was made bankrupt by one of my creditors. Mum and dad got their £13,000 because I fought tooth and nail to make sure they did. Apart from the odd phone call, I didn’t really get any hassle from the majority of my creditors after that. I think they all realized there was no point wasting any more money in legal fees as they had no chance of getting anything if the pot was empty.

During this period, my relationship with Michael continued to deteriorate. We weren’t seeing eye to eye, and it was proving rather difficult for us to sit in the same room together.

I vividly remember one night in March 2000. Michael and I were asleep when I heard a loud bang on the door at around 5am. I had no idea what was going on so I quickly ran downstairs and opened the door. There on the doorstep was one of my creditors, and he didn’t look all that happy. He had what appeared to be a baseball bat in his hand, and he forced his way into our home. He started screaming at me for his money and threatened to take our furniture away in the van he had outside. I explained that we had nothing and what furniture there was in the house was Michael’s, but he wasn’t one for reasoning with me and started hitting me with the handle of the baseball bat. I fell to the floor and screamed in pain at each blow to my head and body. By this time Michael had rushed downstairs and was trying to stop my attacker. Michael pleaded with the man to stop, and within a few minutes he left, jumped in his van and drove off. The police arrived 20 minutes later, but by this time Michael and I had decided that we weren’t going to press charges. I knew who the man was and where he lived but I also realized that he was a single parent and had lost his wife just a few years earlier. The last thing he needed was a criminal record. He was angry and frustrated and I understood that. What he did was wrong but I forgave him at the time and I still do to this day.

The rest of my life just fell into place after that. Michael decided that he didn’t feel safe in our home anymore and thought that he no longer loved me, so the next day he packed his bags and left. I was very confused at this point about who I was, and with my home about to be repossessed by the bank in the next few months, I didn’t know where my life was going. Once Michael left, I suddenly became aware again of my amazing ability to connect with the dead. I think this was because I was now on my own and didn’t have to mould my life to fit in with another person. I started to see and hear spirits but I was having trouble coping with my psychic powers. My friend Philipa knew a couple of people she thought I should meet. One was a lady called Elspeth, and the other was a chap called John who owned a hotel in Tyndrum.

Elspeth lived near Philipa in Helensburgh, so I went to see her one summer’s day in 2000. Elspeth was such a warm and friendly woman that the moment we met I started to cry. I’m not sure if it was just me releasing all the hurt and pain I’d been through or if I felt something more from Elspeth. Looking back, I now realize that it was the beginning of my spiritual awakening, and that this meeting – which was to be the first of many – would open me up to my true potential. I received something spiritual from Elspeth at that first meeting, something I’d never had from anyone else before. She seemed to be connected to me in such a strange and unfathomable way. We held hands like we were brother and sister and we chatted like we’d known each other for years.

Elspeth was a healer and I received some healing from her. In return, I gave her a reading which turned out to be very emotional for both of us. The son she’d lost as a small boy came through for her that day. He told me about his death in great detail; about the journey in the ambulance and his mother’s despair as she stood by while the doctors tried to get his heart started again. I remember being so pleased that I could return to Elspeth the love she’d shown me that day. I continued to see Elspeth during that summer and still see her to this day. She has been a great help to me and will never know how much she helped me come to terms with my ability.

Philipa’s friend John was also a healer. It took us ages to drive to John’s hotel, which seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. John seemed like an ordinary bloke to me. He was quiet but cheery, with almost exactly the same demeanour as Elspeth. When he touched me I could feel his energy piercing my body. I really had no idea why Philipa had brought me to this man. She had mentioned something about opening me up to the spirit world but I didn’t really understand.

John took us into one of the hotel’s large function suites. It was empty so we had lots of space to work in. John asked me about my circumstances and I explained about the past few months of my life. He seemed to understand how difficult it had been for me, and as we spoke he held me in his arms. I felt totally at ease with John. This wasn’t anything sexual. It was love like I’d never known before, and it was an amazing feeling. He truly did have healing hands. Within a few minutes, though, I began to feel rather faint. I lay down and John knelt over me. He held his hands a few inches from my stomach and I began to feel this rush of energy to that point of my body. It felt heavy and black. It was also a very negative feeling and I could sense that it was stuck there. I began to cough. I felt this energy rise through my body. It came up and up, slowly but surely, through my lungs, up to my throat. Then, as I opened my mouth, I could feel this rush of energy gushing out. I could feel the sensation of this negative, black, angry energy flying off the walls of the room. I started to scream and cry, like a child. Within seconds I had started to convulse and I was squirming and writhing all over the floor. Philipa had to help John hold me down. I started to swear. I cursed like I’ve never cursed before. I was scared to open my eyes in case I saw something that would frighten me, but my instinct got the better of me and I slowly opened my right eye. I couldn’t believe what I saw. There were black spectres bouncing off the walls of that room, about six or seven of them. I saw large ones and small ones, and as I was now more consciously aware of what was going on, I noticed that the more I coughed and spluttered, the more of these horrible black shapes were flying out of my mouth.

John ran quickly to the windows and opened every one as fully as he could. He rushed back to me and, as he held me again, I could feel more of this black, negative energy trying to escape from my body. This was exhausting me. I’d been crying during all of this and was feeling emotionally drained.

‘There is a lot more to come, Derek, a lot more,’ John said. ‘We can stop for a few moments and we can all have a rest. Maybe you’d like some water?’ I was grateful for the break. I needed to get my head together. What the hell was going on?

‘Look, what is all this about, John?’ I asked.

‘Derek, you are a great medium and psychic. You may not have realized it yet but you have been chosen by the spirit world as their voice, and this has been the case for all of your life. You’ve not been able to fully tune in to your sixth sense because your chakras – the energy points on your body that you’d use to connect with the spirit world – have been blocked by years and years of negative energy. This energy has latched on to you because you are so sensitive. During your life you’ve had both happy and sad times and I guess more than your fair share of negative moments. You’ve consciously or unconsciously held on to the negative energy that’s been around these disappointments and traumas. I really believe that you are here today because the spirit world knows that if you don’t get unblocked now you never will. I’m now unblocking you. It’s going to take some time – at least a couple of hours – and it’s going to be awful for you, but in a short while you’ll feel stronger and much more at one with yourself. You’ll be able to fully develop your true psychic potential after this session. You’ll, very shortly, be in the position to connect completely with the other side.’

‘But John, tell me about these spectres. I can see them bouncing off the walls in this room.’

‘There are positive spirits and there are negative spirits. The positive ones will come to you in order for you to communicate with them so they can send messages to their loved ones. The negative ones are a different story altogether. Some are angry spirits who possibly didn’t want to die. Some may have unfinished business to attend to before they completely cross over into spirit, and that’s what’s bothering them. Most are upset because they can’t yet move into the light, for whatever reason, and are stuck between this earth plane and the spirit plane. They have latched on to you because you are an easy target for them. They have been sucking you dry for years. Any time you’ve been feeling bad about yourself they have grasped on to those feelings and tried to depress you even more. They can only feed off you if you are vibrating at a very low frequency. The lower the frequency, the more depressed you’ll be. It’s a vicious circle.’

‘Is that why people who are depressed find it hard to get out of their depressive state and feel awful about their lives?’

‘Maybe. I’m not saying that everyone who’s depressed is possessed in some way. No, I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying that the more positive you are, Derek, the less chance there’ll be for these negative entities to attack you and bring you down.’

‘But where do these entities come from?’

‘They are everywhere. They could be in your home or they could appear when you are walking down the street or at work. They seem to love nightclubs where they get off on the deep vibrations from the music and the drug and alcohol scene. They also really love pubs. They’ve no doubt managed to seek you out when you’ve had your pubs and club. You’ve been a prime target for them. You are very psychic and very vulnerable. You are also very sensitive so they don’t need to use that much of their energy to plug into you.’

‘So, it’s possible that that’s why I’ve gone bust?’

‘Absolutely.’ I was shocked, although it all made sense somehow. I had more questions to ask.

‘So John, how is it that you can do this for me and others can’t?’

‘I am a healer and I use God’s love to heal. These negative entities can’t handle the positive energy I’m sending to your body. They are repelled by it so they have to escape.’

‘Is that why you opened the window?’

‘Of course. I don’t want them to hang around in this hotel. They could do all kinds of mischief.’

I was astonished by John’s remarks, but they seemed to ring true. It was all starting to fit into place. I was beginning to feel different, even though John had been working on me for only 20 minutes or so. I really wanted him to continue with the session. I could feel that I had a great deal more negative energy inside me and now I wanted it out. I wasn’t scared. I just needed to know that this horrible nightmare that had engulfed the last 12 months of my life was nearly over.

We began, again, to cleanse my body of the negative energy I’d built up over the years. Both John and Philipa had to physically restrain me during some of my convulsions. I continued to writhe around on the floor for what seemed like hours. There were times when I started speaking in tongues, and Philipa was sent by John to get a Bible. I was screaming and choking when it became almost impossible to get these feelings out of my body. Eventually, however, and through a great deal of patience, John began to calm me, and it was soon apparent that the final pieces of energy were just moments away from leaving my body. When it was all over I felt incredible. I was exhausted, but there was an immense feeling of warmth and elation. My body felt lighter and my troubles were suddenly less significant.

Something else was also different about me. I could now see dead people more clearly than ever before. I walked into John’s hotel bar and saw many spirits – not the alcoholic ones. They seemed much more approachable, as if I could communicate with them. Perhaps I wasn’t such a threat to them now. I had to remember, though, that although my negative energy had all but gone I was still very vulnerable. I realized that until I grew spiritually I would never be totally free of negative energy. Until I knew exactly how to dispose of it myself, I would have to live with it, day in, day out. At least now it wasn’t as significant as it had been and it wouldn’t be able to hold me back from any of the goals I set myself. As far as I was concerned, this was the beginning of the rest of my life, and I was looking forward to it.


Learning to use my psychic gift (#ulink_1783051f-f8a9-5f99-99cd-bd0b16c9e78d)

After my visit to John the healer, I regained the sensitivity I’d had as a child, and I noticed that it had developed considerably. This, in turn, helped bring my psychic abilities through. Suddenly I began to notice those shadows from the spirit world I thought had deserted me. I would talk openly and receive messages from whoever came to visit me from the other side.

I became very withdrawn. I didn’t like having any company around and would tell friends and family to keep away. Physically tired and emotionally exhausted, I broke down in tears for no apparent reason on many occasions. The trauma of the bankruptcy had taken its toll. I understood that I was in trouble and tried to help myself by getting some much needed therapy. Unlike my last experience with a psychologist, when I was in my late teens, I was honest this time. These sessions did me a great deal of good.

I had only a few pounds in my pocket by this time, and with my house now days away from being taken back by the bank, a wealthy friend allowed me to live in a cottage he owned in Kilbarchan, a tiny village on the outskirts of Glasgow. Within a few weeks of moving in on my own, I knew that this was my spiritual home. I felt that the journey I’d been on for the past 35 years was destined to bring me to this place. The cottage was in a beautiful setting on a country estate, surrounded by woodlands. I would spend hours walking around the estate, looking at the wonderful plants and animals. I felt so lucky to have the time to sit by the lake and contemplate my future, and for the first time in around five or six years I began to relax. I became a vegetarian and started to appreciate the simple things in life. I gave up tea and coffee and stopped drinking alcohol. I began to appreciate nature and became an ardent supporter of animal rights.

Once I’d started to relax it became easier to focus on the psychic side of my life. I could see and feel things I hadn’t noticed for months. I’d regularly tune in to the energy of people whom I’d sit next to on a bus or stand beside in a queue or in a shop. I’d have hours of fun connecting with their energy, finding out what was troubling them or the ailments they had. You’d be amazed at how many people have piles! I’d quickly sense what was bothering them then try to listen in to their conversations to find out if I was correct or not. It was the best fun I’d had in years, and the great thing about it was that it was free and literally on my doorstep.

My favourite game was to find a pregnant woman, perhaps in a shop or on a bus, and try to connect with her and find out if she was expecting a boy or a girl. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, this was my first foray into connecting with a child on a psychic level. I took this a little too far one day whilst I was in Mothercare buying a gift for a friend’s baby boy. A woman was standing very close to me looking at a little blue top, and I overheard her talking to her friend.

‘I’d love to buy this for my baby, Susan,’ she said, ‘but I’m scared that if I do it’ll be the wrong colour.’

I just couldn’t resist so I butted in.

‘Do you not know the sex of your baby then?’ I asked, knowing full well what sex the baby was.

‘No. I’m waiting for a surprise.’

‘Well, I won’t spoil your surprise, but I’m certain that if you buy that top you won’t need to exchange it.’ You should have seen the look she gave me. It was priceless!

I also started connecting with the spirits of those who had passed away. During my first months in the cottage I regularly saw the spirits of dead people. Although this may sound strange, these sightings brought me a great deal of comfort. It was as if I had found my inner self and was completing myself when I opened up and communicated with the spirit world.

My psychic calling came in January 2001. After signing on the dole for five months I was beginning to get some hassle from the benefits office about finding a job. I hadn’t been looking for work as I felt that something would turn up for me. It was no surprise, therefore, when my gran’s spirit came to me one day and told me that I should give myself a shake, get positive about my life and my abilities and get my own radio show. I’d known that gran was watching over me because I could feel her presence in the cottage most nights.

I’d never been on the radio before so I was slightly apprehensive about putting myself forward for what could be a total catastrophe. I felt, though, that my gran wouldn’t tell me to do something that would hurt or embarrass me, so I got out my Yellow Pages and looked up radio stations. I called Scott FM and spoke to their controller, Jay Crawford. ‘Look Derek,’ he said. ‘I’m a bit of a sceptic so you’ll have to do something to really impress me.’

‘That’s okay, Jay. Is there anything I could say that would offend you in any way?’

‘Nothing at all will offend me, Derek. Just you go ahead.’

‘Okay Jay. Firstly, when I tune in to your voice vibrations I’m being told that you are getting a new car in the next few days, a blue one. There is also something coming through about you being embarrassed when you’ve been intimate with a lady friend.’

‘That’s enough, Derek!’ interrupted Jay nervously. ‘Call Dougie Jackson at Qfm, our sister station, and tell him I think you should be on air.’

And that was that!

Qfm was a small, homely station, and the people who worked there were very friendly. The minute I walked in I felt good about the place. When I met Dougie, he asked me to demonstrate my psychic abilities to him. Dougie sat down beside me and I started to connect with his voice vibrations. The spirit who was standing by his side started to come through to me. I was a little nervous by this point but I concentrated and began to tune in. I needed this job badly.

‘I keep getting shown that you are doing work in your back garden at the moment, Dougie. When I connect with and acknowledge the elderly lady who’s standing behind you, this message is very strong, very powerful. She keeps telling me that you have messed up that work, if I can be honest with you.’

‘Tell me more,’ said Dougie. He seemed intrigued.

‘Well, it’s the way you’ve set your garden out, Dougie. It’s ended up being a nightmare for you. I gather that you’ll now have to move a tree, and that a pathway has been laid in the wrong place. The opinion I’m getting through from the spirit world is that you’ll have to start the work again in order to get it right. Oh, and your gran, Dougie, she says hello.’

‘That’s impressive.’

‘And your radio station is haunted, Dougie.’ I was now on a roll. ‘There are loads of spirits walking about in here. It’s like a busy high street. Some look as if they are lost. It’s rather strange.’

‘It’s amazing how you’ve come up with that, Derek. Do you know what this building we are standing in used to be before it became a radio station?’

‘No, I haven’t a clue Dougie.’

‘It used to be a morgue!’

I got the job.

The first time I went on air, the DJ asked me some questions about my life as a psychic medium. The more I spoke, the more relaxed I felt. Soon we had our first caller: ‘Hello, hello is Derek there? I’m looking for a reading from the psychic on your show. I think he’s called Derek.’

I could sense immediately that the lady on the phone had a gentleman from the spirit world watching over her. He wasn’t that difficult to connect with, which was a blessing. My gran must have been watching over me as she said she would! I just closed my eyes, as I sometimes do during readings, and tried to tune in to the caller’s voice vibrations.

‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Now you’ve no doubt been listening to me talking about how this works. It’s important therefore that you tell me very little about yourself. As you’ve no doubt heard, I am a medium and I tune in to voice vibrations so in order for me to be able to help you I’d like to ask you your name, just your name. Could you tell me your name please and say it slowly to me?’

‘Hello, Derek. My name is Mary.’

By buying myself that little bit of time I could now fully connect with the spirit who was there. Now I say ‘there’ not to describe how far away that spirit was. I’m just using it to explain that when I connect through voice vibrations the energy I tune in to is actually beside me. So the spirit I was connecting with was actually ‘there’ beside me in the sound booth of the radio station! Immediately, the spirit showed me the letter ‘J’ for James.

‘Hello Mary, thanks for calling. Now you’re my first ever reading on radio so I’m a little nervous.’

‘So am I.’

‘Okay, then let’s just take this slowly. There is a man coming through to me when I connect with your voice vibrations and he keeps showing me the letter “J”.’

‘That may be my dad, although I’m not sure. It could really be anyone.’

‘Hang on a minute. The name James is important here, and before you jump to conclusions, I’m not talking about your son. This man is covered in black soot, and he’s carrying a coal bag.’

‘That’s amazing! My son is called James but my late father was also called James and he was a coalman!’

‘Well, your dad says hello and wants you to know that he’s watching over you and your family.’

‘Thank you so much, Derek. That’s just what I wanted to hear!’

‘Now he’s telling me that he passed away with a heart or chest problem. I can’t quite make that out. All I’m getting is a pain in my chest but I’m sure you’ll realize what he’s trying to say to me.’

‘My dad had a heart attack, Derek. Spot on.’ Mary seemed happy that I’d completely validated that the spirit of her late father had come through to her.

‘Well, he tells me that he’s not in any pain now but he’s been worrying about you. You must look after yourself a bit better. That’s your message. Thanks for calling, Mary.’

I was on my way! The first reading of the first show and it was fabulous.

The show was going really well and the calls just kept on coming. About two hours in, I was given a note saying that the next caller on line one was Margaret.

‘Hello,’ said line one. ‘Is the psychic there?’

‘Hello Margaret,’ I said.

‘Oh, my God!’ came the reply. ‘You are bloody psychic! My pal heard you on the radio tonight and told me to call in. She said that you were amazing and you really are! How on earth did you know my name?’

‘The producer of the show gave it to me on a card, Margaret, before you came on air,’ I said, and we all fell about laughing!

So I passed my test and Psychic Sunday, my new radio show, was born.

I was starting to be a bit of a local celebrity. People weren’t exactly stopping me in the street but my name was becoming well known. I started getting fan mail at Qfm, but not all of it was positive. There was the odd piece of hate mail, which was upsetting. Some people called me a fake, whilst the so-called religious ones claimed I was the Antichrist! Now, I’d be the first to admit that what I do may seem bizarre or downright spooky to the uninitiated, but I’m certainly no con man. I am totally and utterly genuine and my gift is God-given. I’d never dream of duping the public, especially those who’ve just lost a loved one or are in need of some spiritual guidance. Those who come to me aren’t stupid either. They may be looking for something that even I can’t give them, but the vast majority know when I’ve managed to tune in to the spirit of their loved one. They’d know if I was a liar, and I’d be a fool to think that I wouldn’t be found out if I wasn’t genuine.

So what can I be doing wrong? I’m only talking to people in spirit who are desperate to contact their loved ones, and to inform us in general of the realities of life. That’s all. I don’t connect with the dead. They connect with me. I would never dream of trying to unsettle a spirit who didn’t wish to communicate. If spirits wish to send messages they are more than welcome to use me as their messenger and I will always be available to them for that purpose.

My success on the radio brought me many admirers and I received hundreds of requests for private readings. I’d made it a rule from day one that I wouldn’t do consultations in my own home. It wasn’t that I didn’t want people to come over to the cottage; it’s just that my privacy was important to me. There was also another, more psychic, reason for my decision. I knew that if I gave any form of reading at home – especially one which led to a connection with the spirit world – my inner sanctum could possibly end up full of wayward spirits.

I could switch my abilities on and off. I knew the place in my head where I needed to go in order to switch myself on and connect with the spirit world. However, there was the odd spirit out there who knew how to get in touch with me when I least expected it!

I’m not really in the habit of switching on my abilities when I’m going about my usual daily business. I tend to go into psychic mode only when the time is right and not when I’m around the general public – that’s unless I’m bored or want to have some fun! I use the fruit shop in the village nearly every day, and within a few weeks of moving into the cottage I’d got to know the staff quite well. One morning, I was suddenly aware of a spirit standing in the corner of the shop. This took me by surprise because I hadn’t switched on and gone into psychic mode and I therefore wasn’t expecting any visitations from the spirit world. This man was adamant that I communicate with him. I was slightly taken aback by this because, being new to the village, I didn’t want to create problems for myself. Even at that early stage of my life as a psychic I understood that not everyone is fully appreciative of my abilities and how I use them. I knew I had to tread carefully.

‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry to bother you.’ The lady who was serving looked over and acknowledged me.

‘Hello. What can I do for you today?’ Luckily the shop was empty at the time so I felt confident enough to be honest with her without either getting embarrassed or causing offence.

‘I’m Derek and I’m new to the village. I know that you don’t really know me but I’m a medium.’

‘Oh, that’s interesting. I don’t think we’ve had a medium in the shop before. By the way I’m Caroline. It’s nice to meet you.’

‘It’s nice to meet you too, Caroline. Some people think that psychic stuff is a load of nonsense but I get the impression that you may be a believer?’

‘Well, it interests me. Have you got something to tell me?’

‘What I’m going to say may upset or surprise you. There is a spirit standing over there beside that double socket and he keeps telling me that it’s dangerous and you’re not to use it.’

‘Really? Do you know who this man is?’

‘I’m certain that it’s your dad, Caroline. He is scared that you’ll get a shock from that double socket, the one that’s located just beside the onions.’

‘Well, that’s pretty amazing because one of the sockets on that wall doesn’t work and I’ve been told by Billy the owner never to use it. Is my dad telling you anything about himself?’

‘No, unfortunately he’s not, Caroline. He is okay and he’s watching over you but he’s really worried about you using any one of those sockets, not just the one that’s broken.’

‘Well, I’ll keep that in mind,’ answered Caroline, and that was that.

Two weeks later I was in the fruit shop when Billy Fullerton, the owner, was there.

‘Derek,’ he said. ‘I want to have a word with you. Did you tell Caroline not to use that socket over there because her dad’s spirit told you to warn her about it?’

‘Yes, I did, Billy.’ I was intrigued, but also slightly worried that I’d said something out of turn. I hoped Caroline hadn’t been giving her boss hassle about dodgy electrical fittings.

‘Well, Derek, she didn’t listen to you and decided to plug in the Hoover one night when she was tidying up. She thought it would be okay to use the other socket that was still working but for some reason it shorted out the Hoover and blew a fuse. She was lucky that she didn’t get a nasty one. She nearly electrocuted herself!’

After a few weeks on the radio, I started thinking about the possibility of doing theatre shows. I felt that if I could connect with the spirit world down a telephone line whilst dealing with the pressure of being live on radio, then I’d be able to handle a theatre audience. In the meantime, I continued to give private readings.

As I didn’t have a car, I used a local taxi company to take me from reading to reading. Matt was my main driver. He was a gentleman and very supportive of me and my abilities. Matt had just split up from his wife Lesley. He had three children and still saw his kids and Lesley regularly. ‘I’d like you to meet the wife,’ Matt said one night when we were driving back from one of my readings. ‘I’ve been telling her all about you and she’s really fascinated by what you do. Could you see her this week?’

‘No problem, Matt,’ I replied. ‘It’s the least I can do. You’ve been very good to me.’ I don’t like doing readings for people I know, but I couldn’t let Matt down.

Lesley had arranged for her sister and some of her friends to be at the reading so there were a few anxious women in her flat when I arrived. Matt introduced me to Lesley and then went off to work. I went to the loo to get some privacy and took a few moments to get into the zone, to go to the place in my head where I can connect with the spirit world. I change when this happens. I become aware of energy and I can sometimes get rather agitated and fidgety. I’ve just accepted these traits over the years. The methods I now use to connect with the spirit world have developed over time. The more experienced I’ve become, the more I’ve mastered them, so much so that I can now jump to and from my spiritual focal point with ease.

Almost immediately, I realized that I wasn’t comfortable with the energy in Lesley’s flat. I suddenly became aware that there was a presence there, and it was very strong. I could feel it clearly as I stood there, anxiously, in her bathroom. I knew that it was very close to me but was unsure where. I focused and tried to work out in my head where it was.

After a few seconds I connected with it. It was through the wall of the bathroom in her hallway, standing just a matter of feet away from me, and I felt very unsettled by it. I could sense that it was powerful, and when I focused on the energy surrounding it and emanating from it, it was very black and negative. I wasn’t sure if it was the spirit of a man or a woman but whatever it was, it was a presence that didn’t want to talk to me. It seemed to be the defiant spirit of someone stuck in some sort of middle ground who couldn’t, for whatever reason, fully cross over into the spirit world. It was angry about its predicament and it wanted me to understand that. I knew for sure that it also wanted me to know that it was there and watching me but there wasn’t going to be any other form of communication between us. I was disappointed because I really wanted to make contact. I knew from my experiences of meeting spirits like these who are ‘stuck’ that the readings are usually very precise and last for hours.

I tried to compose myself. The last thing I wanted to do was scare anyone. I came out of the bathroom knowing for sure that Lesley wasn’t going to get a reading that night and that I’d have to come back and see her on another occasion when she was on her own. I felt that the presence did want to talk to her but not while so many people were around. It obviously had something to say to Lesley that would be personal and possibly life-changing, something for her ears only.

Lesley seemed pleased to see me when I arrived on her doorstep a few days later. She’d obviously forgiven me for letting her down. I was glad to see her and hoped that her visitor would come through for her, and that her reading would go well. I wasn’t to be disappointed because almost as soon as I entered her hallway it was there waiting. It was standing beside the bathroom, watching me. This time, though, I could just about make out the outline of a young man. He was in his early 30s but he wasn’t particularly good at showing himself to me. Maybe his talents lay elsewhere.

I sat down in the living room and decided to come clean with Lesley. ‘You have a presence in your home, Lesley. There is someone here who would really like to talk to you. It’s a man in his 30s. I’m not sure when or how he died, or even if he’s a relation of yours. He may even be connected to this flat in some way. I’ll try and ask him later if he used to live here, but he has a couple of messages for you and I think you should listen to them. I have to be honest and tell you that he was here the other night. I could feel his presence in your hallway but it wasn’t his time to come through for you. That’s why I’ve come back to see you today. I’m going to connect with him now and see what he has to say.’

‘Okay,’ said Lesley. ‘Tell me what’s troubling him.’ She seemed eager to start the reading and who could blame her!

I tuned in to the presence, which was now standing beside me in the living room. He started instantly to tell me some details about Lesley’s private life. ‘He keeps telling me that he wants to shake you,’ I said. ‘He wants to shake you so that he has your attention. He tells me that you need to wake up and smell the coffee! I’m also getting bad vibes about your body language. You seem to be a person who is very enclosed. You need to open up more and enjoy your life. It’s important.’

‘Okay,’ said Lesley. I now had her full attention.

‘I’m being told about the shortcomings in your character and your present situation so that you listen to the main point of this. I’m sorry if this feels like a personal annihilation. Please remember this is not in any way my opinion.’ I was concerned that Lesley might think I was trying to hurt her feelings. ‘I’m being shown that you are currently having a relationship with someone whose name begins with the letter “D”.’ There was silence from Lesley. ‘You must stop seeing this person. He is so boring!’ I added, then burst out laughing. I could feel that Lesley knew exactly what I was talking about and that her friend, Mr D, was really boring. He was driving the presence nuts with his lack of personality and conversation. There was a serious side to the reading, though. ‘The relationship must end,’ I added. ‘The presence tells me that this person comes over to this flat and that must also stop. Your life is going nowhere with this guy. You need someone who is exciting!’

‘Oh my God, that’s spot on, Derek. I’m seeing a chap at the moment called David. We’ve just started going out! That makes total sense.’ She seemed shocked. With that revelation the atmosphere in the room seemed to change instantly. I’d said what I’d been told to say and given Lesley the correct messages. I felt relieved and suddenly very calm and relaxed. It was as if a weight had been lifted from around me. I hoped, that by sending us the messages he had, the presence would now cross over completely into the spirit world since his work was done.

Lesley and I needed a break so she went off to make some coffee and compose herself. She needed to take in fully what she had been told. We chatted for a while. She told me she was a singer and actress: ‘In fact, I’m currently rehearsing Educating Rita with the Buddie Magic Theatre Company, but we’ve had a few problems and it looks like we’ll have to cancel the dates. The only real worry is that we’re going to lose our theatre hire deposit, and we can’t really afford to do that.’

‘Where were you planning on having the show?’ I asked.

‘We’ve booked a couple of nights at the Paisley Arts Centre,’ replied Lesley. ‘It’s a pity those nights will now go to waste. They’re really good nights too, in May.’

I couldn’t believe my luck. I had come to give Lesley a reading and ended up with the possibility of a couple of theatre dates. As I made my way home on the bus, I knew deep down that I’d soon be appearing live on stage. I felt uplifted. I had been rewarded for all my efforts, especially all the readings I’d done for nothing and all the help I’d given those I’d met. Maybe things were starting to fall into place for me. Perhaps my new life as a psychic was my destiny.


My first psychic show (#ulink_79eaa1d4-eac8-518c-9ec2-0716bdad4eeb)

I’d no idea how to put a psychic show together. Never having been a member of a psychic group or to a psychic show before, I really didn’t know what I was doing. Luckily, colleagues from the radio station helped me out with the technical side – sound, lighting and music. They also advised me just to do what I did on the radio show, to walk on stage, pick out some people – or let the spirits do that for me – and go with the flow.

I couldn’t believe it when, a few days later, I called the box office at the Arts Centre and was told that both of my theatre shows had nearly sold out. I was offered another date and accepted it. I was going to be doing three nights on the trot! This meant that around 500 people would be coming to see me live on stage. I was over the moon.

I was a bit apprehensive about asking my mum and dad to come along. Something inside my head told me to let mum come but not dad. I couldn’t explain why, but I just didn’t want dad in the audience. When I chatted to him about it he was fine, but to this day dad’s never been to see any of my theatre shows. He’s had plenty of opportunity but has never mentioned it to me again. Maybe he’s in a huff! Sorry dad!

It was great to see so many friends there on my first night at Paisley Arts Centre. Loads of people came backstage to wish me all the best. Although I was nervous I knew that if I kept my focus it would go just fine. When the music started my heart was pounding. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, live on stage, Derek Ogilvie.’ I was on.

It took me a few minutes to find my feet. It felt strange to be greeted by applause and the startlingly bright lights, but surprisingly it also felt stimulating, exciting and exhilarating. I could feel the presence of countless spirits whirling around the theatre. They were everywhere: in the rafters, standing beside their loved ones in the audience or sitting on their knees, and even crowding around me on the stage. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It was pandemonium.

There were old and middle-aged spirits, young adults and children as well as baby spirits. I could see them as blurry outlines. Many had been in the spirit world for years while others had passed away recently. There seemed to be few rules. Some hadn’t continued to grow older in spirit so were coming through to me at the age they were when they passed away. Others, though, had continued to grow older in the spirit world. Some came through to me at an age at which they’d be more easily recognized by their loved ones, rather than the age at which they’d passed away. It was fascinating, astounding and downright spooky all at the same time!





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