Katie Coutts - The Ghost Whisperer - A Real-Life Psychic’s Stories

Jim was a delightful man but a sad man. He put on a brave face for the world but underneath his gaiety (pardon the pun) lay a very unhappy and lonely man.

Jim had lost his lifelong partner, also named Jim, just a few years earlier. My client wasn’t a young man. In fact, he was well over 60. In his words, being gay in those days wasn’t as easy as it is today. He had only ever known one partner and vowed he would end his days alone, as no one could ever replace his Jim. I believed him.

Jim told me his reason for visiting was that he so desperately needed to have proof that his partner was near him. I instantly told him that of course he was because I firmly believe the dead are so very near us. But Jim told me he desperately needed proof, real proof. He had visited many other psychics, clairvoyants and the like, but no one had given him anything of substance. ‘What makes him think I can’, I wondered. However, I knew I would try very hard because it was clear to me that this colourful, amusing chap in front of me was aching for some sign that his lover was nearby.

I didn’t have to wait long, for within a split second, the loudest, most gregarious, most delightful spirit joined us. In an acutely feminine voice, I heard words to the effect of ‘Why did you do that to the lounge? What possessed you? And those curtains, tuh! Those curtains.’ I could all but see this spirit’s hands rise in disbelief. ‘And get that bloody awful wheelchair out of our bedroom – I hated it when I was in it, so don’t make me have to look at it every minute of the day!’

Jim burst out laughing. This indeed sounded like his lifetime partner. He admitted that Jim was bossy, loud and brash, liked his own way and more, but he was so, so thrilled that he had come over.

Jim had kept his lover’s wheelchair – not for any sinister reason but because he felt it was such a part of him. Clearly the other Jim did not want it to be a part of him. My client told me it would be removed as soon as he got home – to his newly decorated lounge.

Spirit Jim had much more traditional taste. Although client Jim admitted he really hadn’t minded, their home was largely decorated to spirit Jim’s taste. After his death, Jim redecorated and completely changed the look of their home. It was evident that his dead lover did not approve, yet everything he said, albeit in a somewhat imperious manner, was really quite light-hearted. I somehow knew to take no offence from the spirit’s words, and clearly so did my client.

My client was by now much happier and the entire consultation was taken up by the spirit giving orders, making affectionate comments, then giving more orders. Clearly the two had loved one another deeply. We laughed a lot, and when Jim left, I thankfully saw that not only were his clothes colourful but his face, his eyes and undoubtedly his heart and soul also had a great deal more colour than when he’d arrived.

If you’re reading this, Jim, I hope you are coping with Jim’s orders, even now, beyond the grave.

Wartime Sweethearts

A lot of people wrongly assume that my kind of work is sought only by ‘women of a certain age’. This is certainly not the case. My clients are of all ages and come from many different walks of life. I have teenage boys, old men, professionals and manual workers among my clientele. So why am I telling you this? Read on …

Bertie came to me at a ripe old age. He was an agile man for his age, although arthritis had made him smaller as the years went by. The lines on his face defied his age but his heart was worn out, both physically and emotionally. His eyes were sad. In fact, I’d say his eyes were pretty dead. Gone was the sparkle I immediately saw when I imagined him as a much younger man.

Bertie came into my office and sat down. I was about to close the door behind him when I stopped as I felt the presence of another. I waited and unseeingly allowed the other person to follow us in. As they did so, I was engulfed by a smell I couldn’t name but which reminded me, for some reason, of my childhood.

This ‘other person’ floated past me. I heard her say, ‘Hello dear, I’m Elsie’ as clearly as Bertie had said, ‘Hi Katie, I’m Bertie’. But no, I didn’t go as far as to pull up another chair!

Naturally, I described everything I was seeing to my client, and to my surprise he told me he already knew. He told me Elsie had been his wife for most of his adult life. Together they had survived a war, the raising of seven children and many other hardships life had thrown at them. But they were strong and as much in love more than 60 years later as they had been the day they met.

Visions crossed my mind, many going back to when they were young. I simply sat and narrated to Bertie everything I was seeing. I saw their children, now grown, as little people playing in a park (this particular scene flashed before me many times and clearly I was seeing them over many years as the children were bigger each time). Bertie smiled at this as he remembered well the park I was seeing. He told me that the park no longer existed and that it had been turned into a housing estate.

One very profound scene involved Bertie as a handsome young man, dressed in war uniform. The couple looked sad, which was to be expected, but there was something about Elsie’s eyes that made me more inquisitive. I asked Bertie why I felt extremely sad, apart from the fact that he was going to war. My query was answered when Bertie told me that the day he left to go to war was the same day Elsie buried her mother.

If this story serves to teach me anything, it is that death needn’t be final. Bertie believes he has lost his wife – at least he’s lost her body – but he firmly believes her soul and everything she was inside is with him every waking moment. He still misses her, even though he is comforted by the presence of her spirit.

Sisters

Caroline had been troubled for some time. This was by someone or something that seemed to be following her everywhere. She had never believed in the spirit world. To her it was nonsense dreamed up by people with vivid imaginations who wanted to believe that their loved ones hadn’t left them. That was why she was so surprised when she first sensed that the shadow flitting round herself didn’t seem to belong to anything. This was just the start.

Caroline found herself haunted by someone who picked up pieces of jewellery from places where she had left them and put them down elsewhere, by a shadow which went into rooms ahead of her and put on the television – a ghost which seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. Caroline was terrified.

When she first came to me I was a little sceptical. Caroline lived alone and I thought she might be suffering from an over-exuberant imagination – one that saw ghosts in every corner. But then I became convinced. As the reading progressed, it seemed to me Caroline did have a spirit round her, and this was someone she should have known well, because it was a sister.

The trouble was, Caroline said she didn’t have a sister. She was, she said, ‘an only one’. This didn’t seem possible. The girl I was seeing was exactly like Caroline. In looks, in height, in weight, they might have been twins. I was amazed she could say there was no one in her family like this, that her parents had never had another child. What was more, it was coming across clearly to me that this sister had chosen to look out for Caroline since she moved away from home.

‘But you must have had a sister,’ I could only gasp. Like most of us, I hate being wrong, and in this instance Caroline’s insistence made me feel like a complete fool. Here I was, having actually set out not believing her story, now saying it was true and a non-existent sister was looking out for her.