Get into the spirit

Take one country house, one curious writer and a whole host of guests, both from this life and the next, and what do you get? Lydia Bell goes on a psychic weekend break to find out what’s in store

I t’s late, it’s dark and there are about 15 of us wannabe ghost hunters crowded into a room around a white-haired woman called Jill. She is lying on a four-poster bed, as we raise our hands above her, channelling energy.

“Are you all right Jill, love?” asks Jayne, the medium. “Yes thanks, it’s lovely and relaxing,” Jill replies.

“We ask the spirits if they are here to make their presence felt, to show us that they are here,” Jayne states in a clear voice. “Ooh,” squeals one woman, “I felt a whoosh of cold air rush past me!”

“Right, it’s a male energy, and he definitely doesn’t want us here – he’s very angry,” says Jayne. “Put your hand into this energy here,” she tells me, before grabbing my hand and shoving it into a corner of the room. My hand actually feels like it’s been plunged into an invisible cloud of pins and needles. It really does! It feels horrible, so I pull away quickly. A tall, thin lady – who sees dead people – starts whimpering. “He’s right behind me. He’s got hold of my ankles. He’s shouting: ‘Get out, get out, I don’t want you here. You don’t belong here!’”

My friend Sophie and I have signed up for a weekend with the Psychic Sisters, two (unrelated) spiritual mediums who also have a drop-in centre at London’s Selfridges department store. The experience is all about unlocking your psychic abilities, whether it’s through palmistry, tarot, crystals, angel cards, pendulums or mediumship. And there’s a lot of ghost hunting on the agenda. I’ve always been interested in the supernatural – I’ve been worked on by spiritual healers, had my meridians rebalanced by shiatsu many times, and had my palms dissected all over the world, from Varanasi and Siberia to Sydney and Manhattan. In contrast, Sophie, a sketch comedian from up-and-coming stand-up group Fat Tongue, is rather more cynical.

We’re at Littlecote House, a 16th-century manor just outside of London, where Henry VIII seduced Jane Seymour, and Oliver Cromwell celebrated his victory over the King’s Cavaliers. Soon after arriving on the Friday night, we find the group standing in a blue living room, directly underneath a large chandelier. We also meet Barry, who works at the hotel, and Lindy, the second of the Psychic Sisters. “Tell us the story of Lady Elizabeth,” Lindy asks Barry. He replies: “Lady Elizabeth still lives here and she makes the chandelier move if you ask her.”

“Right, and I’m getting a lady who, although she’s very important, cares a lot about each and every person who works at this place,” says Lindy.

The Psychic Sisters, Jayne (left) and Lindy “Lady Elizabeth, if you are there, please let your presence be known,” says Barry. We all stare at the chandelier. Someone is breathing heavily. “One of the candles is flickering,” he says. I stare at the electrically lit candles until they blur. They are not moving. I can feel Sophie trying to stifle a laugh. “It was happening before,” he says, morosely. “But someone left the door open, so she’s probably gone for a walk.”

Sophie coughs loudly, and I elbow her. We then head to the Long Gallery, a beautiful panelled room, lined with oil paintings, and boasting large windows that open out onto a garden. “There is a lady in grey who haunts these parts,” says Lindy. “It is said that if you walk down the gallery, she walks with you. Would anyone like to walk with the lady in grey?” A small blonde woman named Terry, who is wearing a tight Tshirt with the words “Psychic Sisters” picked out in diamonte, agrees to do it.

Lindy turns to the group and asks: “Can you see the lady in grey? She is considerably smaller than Terry, who is, in herself, very small.” She then puts her hands to her head and looks pained. “I’m getting Lady Jane and a Lady Caroline,” she says.

“Lady Jane Seymour lived here,” says Barry.

I’ve got these beans, have you seen a giant? “Ooh, I feel sick,” says Lindy. On the way out, we chat to Jayne, the founder of the group, who is also wearing a Psychic Sisters T-shirt. She used to run a bar in Tenerife, and everyone in her group seems to be laughing and having fun. “Did you see the lady in turquoise?” she asks me. “She’s got the right hump with us!”