The Rare Medium

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.”