He’d been gone a whole month now and still it was
no better. The very idea of never seeing
Garry on screen again made June feel sick. No-one was able to console her. The only time that she felt happy was when
she climbed into her unchanged bed and began to drift off to sleep. Then she could settle into her regular
dreams, the ones where Garry was alive and well and visiting Rotherham on a
promotional tour. He would visit the cinema
where she worked, clap eyes on her as she sold him an ice cream…and never take
his eyes off her again. He would lead
her into the projection room and…and…well never mind, she’d usually nodded off
by this stage.
Alexandra
Haseldown-Smith. The stars’ chosen
Medium.
The advertisement was bold, confident,
assertive. June decided that there must
be some substance to her claim or she wouldn’t place it in a national
newspaper.
In
regular contact with stars of stage and screen whom have passed over. Seances held regularly in theatres and
studios at the request of several well-known directors and actors.
If anyone could help her to make contact with
Garry, it would be Alexandra Haseldown-Smith.
June hadn’t got much money, only what she’d saved for her bottom
drawer. But it looked like she’d never
need that. No other man could ever live
up to Garry. Especially in
Rotherham. Sod marriage, now that Garry
hadn’t much else to do, he might talk to her, advise her in some way. Tell her he would wait until she joined
him. June went out and bought the most
spiritual looking notepaper that she could find (blue with faint lines). She cleared the pots and pans off the kitchen
table and sat down to write.
“Dear Miss Haseldown-Smith. I need you to help me make contact with an
actor that passed over recently. I
believe that he might have something to tell me. Please can you help me? I have a few pounds and can come to London if
you need me to. My future and my
happiness depend on it. I enclose a
stamped addressed envelope.”
