Derek Acorah - The Psychic Adventures of Derek Acorah - Star of TV’s Most Haunted

Tea leaves! It was National Tea Week and one of the producers of the programme had decided that it would be a good idea to get a psychic in to do a tea leaf reading for Becky. I was nervous. I had not conducted a reading using this method before, but as the introductory music began, Sam told me to relax, that everything would be fine and that he wouldn’t let me down.

The time passed quickly. I conducted Becky’s reading successfully and before I knew it she was thanking me and telling me that what I had told her was correct. The closing music was playing and it was the end of the programme. ‘That was wonderful, Derek,’ Becky said.

On the Wednesday of the following week I received another telephone call from Granada Breeze, asking me whether I would like to join them again the next Friday. The public response to my initial appearance had been so great that the producer thought it would be a good idea if I were to appear weekly. I was delighted to accept. So began my career as a television psychic.

Since that day I have had many adventures. From the relative obscurity of local radio and appearing on a minor satellite television channel, I have been catapulted into the public eye on a much grander scale—all thanks to Karl Beattie and Yvette Fielding, who invited me to take part in LIVINGtv’s celebrated Most Haunted programme.

It is almost three years now since the pilot programme was filmed and we are preparing to shoot the fourth and fifth series. Now I find that I am communing with spirits from different eras, from different backgrounds and different cultures. I have taken a journey into the history of my homeland—something which I sadly neglected to do during my schooldays. For the first time in my life, I have been frightened; for the first time I have sometimes been perplexed at the workings of spirit. What I have not lost, however, is my faith in the world of spirit. The spirits have never let me down.

In this book I have attempted to give an insight into my experiences whilst travelling the country, both on stage and in front of the television cameras. I hope that you will enjoy making that journey with me.

Soon after I had met Sam, my work for spirit increased. My first experience of stepping up onto the platform in a Spiritualist church was a particularly memorable one.

Gwen and I had driven to Blackpool. It was a hot sunny day and as we headed out of the seaside town we heard on the car radio that the motorways were terribly congested, so we decided that we would delay our departure in order to miss the heavy traffic. To while away a couple of hours we thought we would take a trip further up the coast to Lancaster.

We arrived in the old town around half an hour later. By now it had started to rain, so our original idea of taking a walk around the town did not seem nearly so appealing. I drove around looking for a parking space and found one in a narrow side street. As we sat wondering what to do next to kill the time, I happened to look through the rear-view mirror and saw a small building behind me. Over the door were the words ‘Lancaster Spiritualist Church’.

I got out of the car, walked over to the notice board and saw that the service would be commencing in 15 minutes. We attended the Spiritualist church in Liverpool regularly, but I thought it might be nice to join the service in Lancaster. Gwen agreed.

We walked through the door and squeezed into a couple of seats at the rear of the hall. It was very small, with a capacity of no more than 50 people. The presiding medium for that day was a lady named Gloria Duthy. I had heard of Gloria, but had never seen her work.

The service began with the usual prayers, hymns and dedications before the medium took the platform. Two or three messages had been passed on from loved ones to members of the congregation when suddenly Gloria pointed to the back of the hall and said, ‘I’ve a man here. He’s a very brusque Scot and he wants to speak to Derek!’

Gwen dug me in the ribs with her elbow, but as I have no Scottish links in my family and as Derek is not the most uncommon name, I remained silent.

‘I know I’m going to someone at the back of the hall with this man,’ Gloria said. ‘I want the Derek who was linked to football! This spirit man is telling me to tell Derek that “the boss” is here and he’s still putting the goals in the “onion bag” over there!’

Now I knew that the message could only be for me. ‘The boss’ was most definitely my old boss from my footballing days at Liverpool Football Club, the legendary Bill Shankly. He was the only person I knew who referred to the goal net as ‘the onion bag’ and it would be far too much of a coincidence to have two Dereks in such a small congregation who both had links with football and the great man. I put my hand up.

‘Thank you, Derek,’ Gloria said. ‘This man is telling me that you shouldn’t worry about not making it to the top in football. He tells me that you’ll make your mark in another way—working for spirit. He’s saying that you must never give up, that you must continue on, no matter what obstacles are put in your way, because you are meant to do this work. He’s telling me that you should be up on this platform conducting the service. He tells me that I’m good but that you will be better. He’s laughing and saying, “Just tell him it’s Shanks!”’

Gloria continued with messages from my grandmother Helen, my Uncle George and a family friend called Micky. She told me that one day my name would be in lights and that I would work for spirit in all parts of the world, and finished by asking me if she could talk to me after the service.

When the final prayers and hymns had been completed and the absent healing requests read out, I waited at the back of the hall to speak to Gloria. She was a lovely lady and congratulated me on the work that I was to do for spirit.

After a few minutes the booking secretary for the church approached us. ‘I’d like to book you to conduct next week’s service here,’ she said.

‘Me? ’

I was overwhelmed. Although I had spent many years as a member of a Spiritualist congregation, I had never taken the platform before. Gwen was busily digging me in the ribs, urging me to agree. She had always said that I should have more confidence in myself. I reluctantly agreed that I would travel to Lancaster the following Sunday to take the role of presiding medium for their evening service.

For the whole of the following week I was extremely nervous and wasn’t looking forward to our trip to Lancaster at all. Finally the day arrived. We set out to travel along the M6 but as we were nearing the service station at Charnock Richard, the car began to overheat. We pulled onto the forecourt and checked the radiator. Although there was no sign of a leak, there was very little water in it.

‘I think we’d better telephone the church and tell them that I won’t be able to make it,’ I said to Gwen.

‘No way,’ she replied. ‘You’ve said that you’ll take the service and you’ll do just that, even if I have to push you there in the car!’

We filled a couple of bottles with water and set off once more. We had to stop twice to let the engine cool and to top up the radiator, but eventually we arrived in Lancaster and parked up in front of the church.

As I walked in through the door my stomach was rolling and I was feeling terribly nervous. The walk to the podium seemed endless as I tottered along on quaking legs. Then the prayers were said and the hymns were sung and before I knew it, it was time for my demonstration of mediumship.

‘Please don’t let me down,’ I begged Sam.

‘Don’t worry, Derek, this is your destiny,’ Sam replied.