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for an

appointment earlier in the day. I had known Robert several

years ago, as he was a friend of my then-boyfriend and our

paths often crossed. I had always found him to be vibrant and

gregarious, and was profoundly saddened to hear that he had

passed away the week before.

His parents had spent the day with him as he wasn’t feeling

well and he didn’t want to be alone. They stayed with their son until his partner returned from work, at which point they left to go home. By the time they pulled into their driveway half

an hour later, Robert had suffered a massive brain aneurysm.

As expected, his devastated family were in shock, as Robert

had been devoted to the gym and appeared to be in the best

of health. I expect that Robert was similarly shocked to find himself suddenly dead, as I strongly felt his presence and knew that he was still around.

It is at night that I’m at my most receptive, as the children

are in bed and the house is quiet and still. On the night in ques-Robert 55

tion, Stuart was downstairs quietly watching TV, and I ven-

tured upstairs, determined to allow Robert to make contact.

I got into bed and turned out the lights. I fought the urge

to pull the sheets over my head, knowing that to the spirits this would be interpreted as β€œgo away!”

As I lay in the darkness concentrating on my breathing, I

suddenly felt a weight on the bed beside me, and a hand fall

gently onto my leg. I kept telling myself to breath, to relax, that I owed it to Robert to allow him to make contact. I

couldn’t still my internal dialogue, and kept telling myself

there was no need to be frightened and that I was very lucky

to be experiencing this visit. After all, how scary could Rob-

ert be? The energy he gave off was a little sad and imploring, but his intrinsic loveliness was also shining through. He wasn’t even remotely frightening, and any niggling fears were quickly quelled by his positive, gentle energy.

β€œIs that you Robert?” I asked.

Almost immediately, I felt pressure on either side of my

head, as though someone was pressing a thumb in each tem-

ple. After a few moments, the pressure on each side alter-

nated, it was firm but by not unpleasant, and felt distinctly

as though someone was giving me a head massage! At first I

found myself over-analysing what was happening Did Robert try to alleviate his headache before he died this way? Is he just trying to draw attention to my head to identify himself? What if it’s not Robert at all, and I’m just experiencing some kind of surge in psychic energy?

I forced myself to stop the internal chatter, and allowed

myself to relax into the experience. It really felt as though I was being massaged, the thumb pressure could not feel any

56Robert

more solid or real. It lasted for almost ten minutes, unfaltering in both its strength and rhythm for the entire duration.

By the time it stopped, I felt extremely relaxed, and con-

gratulated myself on not bailing on a wonderful experience.

It showed me what I had known all along, there is nothing

to fear from the spirit world. Why should someone suddenly

become scary just because they had shed their earthly shells?

The fear is so unwarranted.

I felt the weight lift off the end of the bed and in its wake I was left with a sense of happiness and progress. I ran downstairs to relay the experience to Stuart, but not before thanking Robert for the lovely massage, and for helping me further conquer the barrier of fear.

chapter eight

T h e H e r i t a g e H o t e l

It’s long been known that old hotels are often hives of para-

normal activity. Those who have passed through their doors

in days gone by are sometimes loathe to leave their favou-

rite watering holes. Ghosts are believed to linger in places to which they have strong emotional attachments; whether they

be borne from happy memories or painful ones.

Rose is a cosmetic dentist, who bought the Heritage Hotel to convert into consulting rooms. Built in the 1920’s, it is an elegant example of Art Deco architecture, and boasts over 800

square meters of floor space. Although it required extensive

remodelling, Rose knew it would be perfect for her new clinic.

The first inkling that The Heritage may have been haunted began during renovations. First one, then several of the con-tractors, refused to work in the building alone. They spoke of strange noises, a sense of being watched and most unsettling

of all, the sensation of someone blowing in their ears.

57

58The Heritage Hotel

My sister-in-law, Hayley is one of Rose’s nurses, and told

me about the strange goings-on. She asked if I would be will-

ing to visit her new workplace, to ascertain whether their

suspicions that The Heritage was haunted were correct. We arranged to conduct an on-site investigation the following

Thursday evening.

There were to be five of us in attendance; Hayley and

Rose, my friends; Kelly and Karen, (who would record the

night’s events on infrared camera) and myself.

Armed with my trusty pendulum and pedestal table, we

arrived at the Heritage Hotel a little after eight o’clock. I picked up on several presences as soon as I walked through the front

door. It felt as though I was being followed into each room as Hayley took me on a tour of the building. As stylish as the new fit-out was, I had the distinct feeling that the ghosts were less than impressed. The new look office space bore little resemblance to the hotel rooms they had once been.

After touring the operating theatres and consulting rooms,

we made our way back to the reception area. It was as we

passed the imposing main staircase that I caught a glimpse of

a small, fleeting figure. It dashed down the stairs in a matter of seconds, pausing briefly on the landing. Camera in

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