"HOW do you fancy this mum?” My daughter Jenna thrust a flyer into my hand.

“An afternoon with Angel Agnes,” it read.

“Eh?” I was puzzled. “An afternoon with an angel?”

Even I couldn’t get my head around that one.

“Apparently, she is a real angel mum, and not just any Angel.”

Jenna seemed convinced.

“She is also a psychic medium.”

Assuming I didn’t know what a psychic medium was, she added: “She contacts the dead and passes on messages to the living.”

Having lost both my mum and my dad this year I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear messages from either of them, or anyone else for that matter, but I agreed as I thought it would be a day out with Jenna and a few of my friends.

About 40 excited females gathered in a small lounge bar where the mood was set with curtains drawn, lights dimmed with candles and scented sticks dotted everywhere. (This immediately started my allergies!) Soon Angel Agnes appeared to begin her performance.

Staring up to heaven for divine inspiration for what seemed like ages, eventually she began.

“I’m getting an Elizabeth.”


“Or ……… a Beth.”


“But it could be a Lizzy or a Betty?”

A couple of nods from the audience.

“I feel a lot of joint pain. My hip. My hip.” Angel Agnes winced as though she could indeed feel the pain herself.

Finally a woman sprung out of her seat. “Yep, it’s my granny Betty.”

“Yes, it’s definitely Betty.” Angel Agnes seemed chuffed with herself.

“I feel like she’s had a hip replacement.”

Nod nod.

“She’s standing right beside me now.”

Angel Agnes glanced at a vacant space to her left.

“I’ve to tell you that she says she is fine now and that her pain has gone.”

“Well, nae wonder her pain has gone.” Chipped in a voice from the crowd.

“She’s deed!”

We couldn’t help laughing because the entertainment was coming from the now sceptical audience and not our host Angel Agnes, who was moving on quickly as she could find no more to say about poor Betty.

“I have an elderly man here.”

Angel Agnes looked over her right shoulder to convince us she had company yet again.



“Or Rob or Bob.”


“I see a uniform.”

No one stood up.

“It could be a soldier’s uniform, a police officer’s uniform, a prison officer’s uniform.”

“No difference.” A voice whispered.

“Or a bus driver’s ... but definitely a uniform.”

“Jeezo, mum,” Jenna said. “She’s mentioned every uniform there is except McDonald’s.”

Agnes continued: “The month of August is important to this person.”


“Or perhaps September?”

Silence, apart from the crowd who were chatting amongst themselves.

“He has a birthday or anniversary in August or September. Who’ll take this one?”

Someone eventually stood up.

“Well ... my grandpa Bob was a train driver and he died in August 2015.”

“Yes, yes it’s Bob.”

By now the crowd of females, with the exception of two latecomers Michael and George, had lost all hope of reaching their loved ones, and Pinot Grigio seemed to be the only spirit coming through until ...

“Do we have a William?”


“A Willie then?”

A voice from the back of the room: “You’ll no find many willies in here hen.”

The room was in an uproar.

Ignoring the local banter Angel Agnes continued.

“It’s Billy. Definitely Billy.”


“Billy is quite a loud character and making all sorts of noise.”

George suddenly came alive.

“That’s us. That’s us.” He turned to Michael who was now out of his seat waving his hand in the air like an enthusiastic five-year-old.

“We’ve got a Billy in spirit.”

Angel Agnes was somewhat relieved that she had finally hit the nail on the head and turned her attention to the pair confirming.

“Yep ... definitely a Billy in spirit.”

“I can hear a sort of whistling ... or singing. Did Billy like to sing?”

Michael had a tear in his eye as he confirmed that Billy did indeed love to sing.

“Did he sing often?”

“Yes. Yes, all the time,” agreed George.

“Especially at night.” Michael wiped away the tears.

Jenna reckoned Billy must have been in a choir.

“Although, I get a strong feeling that Billy was quite lonely.”

George and Michael nodded in agreement.

“I suppose with us working all day he could have been.”

“Billy is telling me that he had been ill for a long time before he passed.”

“No, no.” Michael shook his head. “It was very sudden.”

The room was now silent again.

“We were watching X-Factor and usually he sings along,” he sniffled.

“But suddenly he went quiet.”

The room waited with bated breath.

“And when we glanced over, he had just keeled off his perch.”

“Perch?” Jenna screeched. “Perch?”

“Yep.” I took a final gulp of wine.

“Looks like Angel Agnes can reach dead budgies too!”