Letters to a Psychic

1

Dear Pam

I was wondering if you’d do another reading for me…I know it’s not long since the last one, less than a month, well actually maybe about a week, but I need to know how he feels. I know you said you didn’t want people bothering you all the time and not listening, but this is not the case; everything is hanging in the air and it’s impossible to breathe. My son and his family are away and everyone else seems to have just disappeared – haven’t been across the door in days. I promised myself a trip out tomorrow to post this, but I might just nip up to the box on the corner when it’s finished  – better to get it away ASAP, then I can look forward to your reply in a couple of days. I’ve already paid the twenty-five pounds by Cash-Ex.

If you could concentrate on Dean’s calendar and where he’s going to be for the next month – maybe I can pop over if he’s going to be near me; he doesn’t answer my letters and I can’t get his staff to bring him to the phone. You were spot on with the last reading; I couldn’t believe it when you described him right down to his great sense of humour – that’s what caught me when I first met him. He was so kind. You’d never think a TV personality would be so generous with his time but he was marvellous; he made me tell him all about the media course I’d taken last year. I said I wasn’t going to let it all go to waste and that’s when he offered me the job, helping him with the audience, so he would know what they were thinking; he thought I’d be good at that. I’d been worrying that my age would stop me getting work; there aren’t many companies wanting pensioners even though I’m a brand new one.

The job information should’ve been here by now; it’s been over five months. I’ve checked at the post office a few times but, nothing. There’s a strong connection between us, I can still feel it, and in some ways it’s stronger – I think the distance makes the pull even more powerful…don’t you think? Why are his people keeping us apart? If I could only find a way in everything would be all right. They answer the phone as though they’d never heard of me and send standard reply letters as if I was just any old fan. That’s not right. How can they get away with it?

You don’t have to spend any time on other areas; I’m not interested in them; just him and what’s going to happen in the future for us. I know he wants me to sort this out; he’s waiting for me to get in touch. Thanks very much in advance Pam, I know you’ll do all you can to help. I feel such a great connection with you too.

My Best Wishes (looking forward to hearing from you)

Isabel   x

2

Dear Pam

I was waiting for my little yellow bus today but a white one turned up. Things like that throw me off balance. Do you think it means something? Is it a sign that things are moving on without me? Our usual driver sat behind the wheel and spun my ticket out of the machine but there was someone in my seat. Somehow, the day is getting out of control. My hands keep attracting my attention; they look different – much, much older than they were yesterday, though I haven’t really noticed them for a while…so maybe it all started weeks ago, months even. Do you think it’s possible that I’ve been abducted or something? I mean surely I would’ve noticed these changes.

It’s all very worrying and I’m annoyed at myself for being paranoid, but when I saw that the big clock on the Pearce Institute was obviously new I nearly fell off the pavement; it was smashed before, wasn’t it? I’m scared to look in the mirror in case there’s a stranger there. So I’ve locked myself in my room – I don’t have a mirror in here but I need to avert my eyes from the glass doors of the unit. The news is normal, I think; it’s only me who’s a bit bonkers. I watched Who’s Line is it Anyway and got a shock when they put on the alien masks; there was a flicker of recognition in the back of my mind. If I’d known I was mad when I was over at the hospital visiting Morag I would’ve popped into A&E for a quick scan. Do you think I need one? Should I just get a taxi over there now, do you think?

Oh I don’t know what to do for the best so that’s why I’m writing to you Pam; you always help me to see the real world. I think I’m going blind – I have to keep rubbing my eyes to get rid of the film that makes everything blurred. I know I’ve asked you before but do you think it’s possible that I might’ve been taken? I don’t know how else to explain all the goings-on; I can hear music too – it comes from all directions at once…that must mean that it’s really on the inside, doesn’t it? My feet tap to it, honestly they do – when they think I’m not looking. When I catch them they freeze. It’s just occurred to me that it might be a circulation problem; that affects the extremities, doesn’t it? Are your eyes extremities too?

I know you’ll forgive me rambling on (you always do) and I hope you can recognise all this as something – hopefully nothing serious, and offer some advice. Even the coats hanging up behind my door seem to be twitching, and the cat has totally disappeared…and this is the tenth floor of a flat! Though I hear her sometimes. She wouldn’t take food from me the other day; do you think she recognised that my hands were those of a stranger? Who am I Pam, do you know?

Signed,   Very Worried in Glasgow

Ps; I’ll be waiting by the door for the postman.

3

Oh Pam, you really are a life-saver; every word in that reading was just so true. I don’t know how you do it, and you managed, again, to make me feel some kind of normal. My daughter-in-law is always accusing me of lying; I hate having to spend time with her so I can see my son and his children. Sometimes I just sit and watch her eyes; they’re never still for a minute and you can’t imagine what’s going on inside that head of hers. What have I ever done to her? Nothing, that’s what, and she stuffs me in the armchair nearest the TV so I can’t look back and watch her. She’s sneaky enough to make everyone believe that she loves looking after me. I don’t eat much when I’m there, or drink – so now she tells everyone I’m anorexic. Bitch!

She found out about me working for Dean and sneered from the very start. ‘You’re too old to get a job like that Isabel,’ she said. Then, ‘You must’ve misunderstood.’

‘I bloody did nothing of the kind,’ I told her. ‘People work in that field till they drop and I’m a whole lot fitter than you,’ I said. She didn’t like that; she hates it when I mention her weight; and she goes on and on about me not eating and thinking a bit too much of myself. I tell her to mind her own bloomin’ business.

I stupidly happened to mention that Dean had contacted me and asked if I’d do a bit of audience mentoring, and get back to him with statistics, and she went mental; wanted to see the proof; demanded to read the letters. When I said it was all done through the medium of television her poor old brain just couldn’t grasp the concept; she called me a nut-case, in front of the children. I could see Robert straightening himself up but he just moved the children into the kitchen and made eyes at Sonjia.

What I want to ask you Pam is; do you see her and my son staying together? I know he won’t leave her but I feel his unhappiness; she’s making his life a misery. I tell him he can come home to live with me anytime, and see the kids as often as he likes; I wouldn’t want him to think I didn’t want them there too – but she does have such an influence on them. I’m always telling him to stand up for himself and spend more time with them – they even have her Manchester accent while living all their life in Glasgow.

So, it’s just the one question today Pam, and I’ve sent the correct fee. I so look forward to your letters; they drop onto my floor with a very positive sound that I hear from all over the flat – makes me come running.

All Best Love to you x

Isabel.

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