Derek Ogilvie - The Baby Mind Reader - Amazing Psychic Stories from the Man Who Can Read Babies’ Minds

I don’t know how I got through those dark days of November 1999. I suppose I just dug deep and hoped that things would turn out all right in the end. I was still fairly young and in good health, which meant that I could always start up again in business if I felt the desire to do so. But the magic was slowly disappearing from my world of wheeling and dealing and bars and clubs. I just couldn’t see myself going through the trauma of starting up from scratch if my business went bust.

At this point, I found comfort in knowing that I could – if need be – take my own life. I understand that this may sound rather melodramatic or even selfish, but it was this thought and the ultimate level of control it brought me that really kept me going. No matter how bad things got, I had a get-out clause. It was also strangely comforting to know that I had an insurance policy that would pay out £1 million on my death, even if I committed suicide. If the worst came to the worst at least I’d be able to leave Michael and my family enough money for them to be fairly comfortably off.

I was constantly bombarded with calls from creditors. Unfortunately, there wasn’t that much in the kitty to pay them. I could feel my business slipping away from beneath my feet like quicksand.

When we finally sold our house, it wasn’t the anticipated answer to my financial problems. Once we’d paid off our mortgage with the cash from the sale we were left with approximately £113,000. As soon as the money hit our account the bank manager used some of it to pay off my company overdraft, so we were left with £73,000. The bank manager wasn’t finished though. Michael and I had credit cards, which we had been using for months to buy food and pay bills. Our card bill was sitting at £13,000 so the bank manager took our cards from us, tore them up and paid off the bill. We had £60,000 left but the bank manager still wasn’t finished. By the time I’d paid off some of my debts, I was left with nothing. Not a penny, absolutely nothing. I now had no money to pay back my mum and dad and I was devastated.

Michael and I moved into our new home and were settling in. Christmas was only a few weeks away but we decided not to buy each other presents because we were totally broke and struggling to get by from day to day. I felt terrible for Michael. He’d put so much effort into our relationship and his reward was a house that was soon to be repossessed and a failed business.

I had to laugh when everyone in Budda Club started counting down the final moments of 1999. The worst year of my life was just seconds away from finishing, and what could be the most difficult year ever was just about to start. I hugged Michael. I knew that we wouldn’t last the next 12 months together and I think he did too. We smiled as we held hands and watched the crowds party as the champagne corks popped and the streamers flew all around us. The club was full for once, which was an achievement in itself. I knew that this would be my last time in the place. People would be starting back at work within the next few days and credit managers would be on the phone looking for their money. What a totally crazy situation this was.

That Sunday evening I’d had enough. Budda was in chaos and I had to get away from it. I thought long and hard and decided to go to London. I wasn’t planning on coming back. I remember standing on Tower Bridge one Thursday evening. I hadn’t been sleeping too well and had started taking Night Nurse tablets. They seemed to dim my senses and got me through most days. I looked into the Thames and started to think about climbing onto the railing. The water seemed a long way down. I began to think about my life; all the highs and now the terrible lows. It didn’t seem fair that I’d ended up with so much pain, but I told myself that life wasn’t fair. I didn’t care. I was on my way out of this madness. I put my foot on the railing and started to pull myself up. I managed to get one leg onto the other side when I suddenly heard a voice. It wasn’t the voice of a passer-by. It was all around me, engulfing me. It was in my head but it wasn’t a part of me. It was surreal.

‘Go home and face the music,’ this man’s voice said. ‘You will come through this and will grow from it. This pain will not last forever. Go home Derek.’

I looked around me but there was no-one there. I was shocked. I felt as if someone had just put their arms around me and I was being protected in some way. It was an amazing feeling. It was warm and calming and I felt consumed with love. Somebody somewhere was looking out for me, and I suddenly realized that this message was coming from a greater source than I’d ever known. If this was my guardian angel then I was going to listen to him. No question. I quickly pulled my leg back from the other side of the railing and picked up my bag. I wasn’t shaking or nervous. I was almost being led away from there. So I walked back to the flat, called Michael and asked him to book me a ticket back to Glasgow.

I was tired and lonely but I’d decided to come home. I knew we didn’t have much time left, and that it was a matter of months before our new house would be repossessed. I needed to salvage at least something out of this situation, even if it was only my dignity. After hearing the voice I’d realized that being in London meant that I was running away from my responsibilities.

Within a few days of my return to Glasgow, my gran died. She’d been ill for some time but her death seemed incredibly poignant to me. Was she leaving me now in order to help me out in another way?

Gran’s death left me with an even greater issue. The £3,000 that mum and dad had lent me was gran’s funeral money that she’d been saving up for years. Mum and dad now couldn’t afford to pay for the coffin, the funeral, the lunch or a headstone. I was devastated.

I knew I had to do one final deal and do it quickly. I’d been negotiating the sale of my business for some time, but I wasn’t at all happy with what I was being offered. I wanted to find some other way out of my financial mess. However, I’d reached a stage where I had no choice. On the day we buried my gran, the deal was finally agreed. I called Brian, my old lawyer, when I got back from the funeral, and his advice will stay with me forever. ‘Derek, get out of Glasgow. You have upset many people and they will be coming after you. You aren’t safe.’

When the business was sold its assets didn’t cover all of its liabilities so it went into liquidation. As I personal guarantees to the bank, the brewers and some of my suppliers I had to sell off everything I owned to pay these outstanding debts, but it wasn’t enough and I was made bankrupt by one of my creditors. Mum and dad got their £13,000 because I fought tooth and nail to make sure they did. Apart from the odd phone call, I didn’t really get any hassle from the majority of my creditors after that. I think they all realized there was no point wasting any more money in legal fees as they had no chance of getting anything if the pot was empty.

During this period, my relationship with Michael continued to deteriorate. We weren’t seeing eye to eye, and it was proving rather difficult for us to sit in the same room together.

I vividly remember one night in March 2000. Michael and I were asleep when I heard a loud bang on the door at around 5am. I had no idea what was going on so I quickly ran downstairs and opened the door. There on the doorstep was one of my creditors, and he didn’t look all that happy. He had what appeared to be a baseball bat in his hand, and he forced his way into our home. He started screaming at me for his money and threatened to take our furniture away in the van he had outside. I explained that we had nothing and what furniture there was in the house was Michael’s, but he wasn’t one for reasoning with me and started hitting me with the handle of the baseball bat. I fell to the floor and screamed in pain at each blow to my head and body. By this time Michael had rushed downstairs and was trying to stop my attacker. Michael pleaded with the man to stop, and within a few minutes he left, jumped in his van and drove off. The police arrived 20 minutes later, but by this time Michael and I had decided that we weren’t going to press charges. I knew who the man was and where he lived but I also realized that he was a single parent and had lost his wife just a few years earlier. The last thing he needed was a criminal record. He was angry and frustrated and I understood that. What he did was wrong but I forgave him at the time and I still do to this day.