It’s been a bit of an odd day. It’s not every day that you have a friend walking round your house with burning sage and some feathers, being drawn to various corners. It’s not every day you’re told your aura has a tear in it. But then it’s not every day you have your house cleansed of spirits. Well, not in my world anyway.
The tappings and footsteps in Noodles’ room had unsettled me though. They were probably nothing more than a draught, a dodgy monitor and my overly-active imagination. But then my friend said that she’d picked up on spirits in my house and would I like them cleansed?
One, she said, was the trace of a maid. Trust me to have spiritual staff, rather than anyone who could actually help me keep the house in order. She must have become an increasingly tortured soul if she had to float through our house aspiring to do her work but unable to actually do anything.
She’d also picked up on a man. A proper spirit. (Although in my world a ‘proper spirit’ is vodka or gin or whiskey. Actually, whiskey is a little too ‘proper’ for my liking. But still, I started to quite fancy a gin at that point.)
‘He’s saying to me ‘home’ – he used to live here,’ my friend said. ‘But he’s drawn to Noodles because he’s all unconditional love. He’s here to guard over him.’
‘I’ll cleanse him, but can he still keep guard, protecting Noodles?’
I assume this doesn’t mean I can leave Noodles home alone whilst I do the supermarket run or start to leave screwdrivers out near electricity sockets, but it seems rude to send a guardian away. I find myself squeaking a ‘Yep.’ I forgot to ask if his name was Nick as Noodles added ‘Nik-Nik’ to our bedtime roll call of goodnights.
It may be a bit too late now.
‘Did you see the smoke circle?’ My friend asked.
And then another – large, wobbly, floating around in mid-air, hovering for an eternity.
‘That ones for you. He’s gone, but he’s still there to look over Noodles.’
I find myself welling up.
My friend moves over to the corner of the room by the desk, drawn to the ceiling.
‘I can sense a crib. An old-fashioned one. Nothing fancy. Quite poor. But there’s no baby. But the mother misses him. She’s in a rocking chair. But I don’t know where the baby is.’
More smoke rings – three smaller ones this time. How many spirits have we got??!
‘I feel something coming from the cellar.’ We go through to the kitchen.
‘Ooh. I don’t reckon you like it in here much.’
‘Actually, I’m quite happy in here,’ I reply.
‘Really?’ I don’t think I’ve heard anyone so incredulous. Oh my God. What sort of negativity has been going on in my kitchen?! Besides from my cooking.
‘It’s where I tend to hide out,’ I confess. Not that any paranormal negative energy ever puts Noodles off seeking me out.
‘There’s a lot of stagnant energy coming from the area by the sink. That’s unusual for an area with water in it. It’s very blocked.’
You’re not kidding!
‘I think this is where the baby was. In the cellar, under where the sink is. I’m getting the name Joshua. I don’t think he was given an official name, but his mother called him Joshua. I don’t often get names, but this is very strong. And Corbin, but I think that’s a family name.’
OK, trying not to freak out. I’m certainly not doing the washing up anymore!
After an age my friend announces that the blockage is gone. The smoke on the sage starts to billow more…but I had just opened the back door.
‘It’s clear,’ she announces. ‘Shall we go upstairs?’
The safe is starting to make my head spin. I’m curious to see if there’s anything in Noodles’ room, since that’s what kicked the whole thing off. But I also don’t want a Woman in Black moment. Grieving mothers and rocking chairs. Eeek!
‘No, nothing in here,’ my friend breezes. ‘Isn’t that weird?’
To be honest, it’s everything else I’m finding weird at that moment in time.
In Boo’s room she’s drawn, almost magnetically, to the wall that leads to my room.
‘There used to be a door here,’ I’m being drawn to go through.
Oh my God. Where’s Harry Potter when you need him?
Thankfully I don’t live in a mansion, it’s a brilliant sunny day and I’m not alone. There’s no sound of a creaking rocking chair.
‘The mother’s gone,’ my friend announces. ‘I’m getting the sense of someone looking for Maureen. Do you know a Maureen?’
I do indeed. She’s a friend of mine from a different social circle to my dance mum friends.
‘I’ve got a message for her from an old woman. She says she knows.’
My first thought is of Maureen’s mother-in-law. She never approved of Maureen and Maureen hid her age from her (and her daughter) because she was older than her husband.
‘She’s short and a bit plump. Most of all she’s bubbly and got the most golden of souls.’
Ah, not the mother-in-law then.
‘She knows and she understands.’
That’s nice. It’s more than I do.
Then my friend picks up on some domestic violence that happened in my room. She can’t tell if it’s anything to do with Maureen though. Most of all though I’m just relieved none of anything going on is anything to do with my mum who died in the room.
I start to breathe a bit more easily again. Until we try to go up to the top floor.
‘I can’t get up there, I’m blocked,’ my friend says. Well, there is a lot of junk on the stairs.
Back to my room again and my friend unblocked the negative energy through the ceiling. Another smoke ring.
‘Everything should feel a lot clearer now. You may even feel an urge to declutter.’
Did she just have a pop at my house-keeping?! Still, if I can blame my family’s untidiness and hoarding tendencies on having a house full of spirits then fair enough. No wonder I’ve been fighting a losing battle.
The cleansing ends when voices not linked to the house start to come through. I’m not willing to have a ghost house party so my friend makes sure everything is clear.
I’d love to say everything felt a lot lighter, as though shifts between worlds had occurred. Instead everything just smelt of sage and incense.
But I need to tend to my needs more to heal my broken aura and turn my bedroom into a haven for me. That’s all going to go down really well with Husband!
I’m really not sure what to make of this morning. I wasn’t necessarily expecting scenes straight out of Poltergeist, but if there is anything out there I’m clearly not in touch with it at all. I might still get a sage plant for the kitchen sink.
Hopefully the baby monitor will stay quiet tonight.