Is anyone there…

The loss of a loved one is often the most profound pain that a person will experience in their life.

For most of us, grief tears a hole within our heart and unleashes a noisy emptiness inside – one that can consume our days and haunt our nights.

Sickness can pass, physical pain might ease, but grief – in a way few other things do – feels final.

For those who believe in an afterlife, reunification with that special person means departing from this world and leaving all those who remain behind.

For those who see death as the irreversible end, there will simply never be another hello after that final earthly goodbye.

But what if somebody told you that your loved one was not really dead – not in any significant sense of the word, anyway?

What if they swore that, while their body may have been buried or burned, their spirit – the part of them that actually matters – is still alive and well?

Imagine if this mystical advisor whispered in your ear that they possess the power of clairvoyance, then, with an earnest gaze and a rub of your shoulder, promised that maybe – just maybe – they could help you reconnect with that person you so dearly miss?

What mourning mother or father, son or daughter, husband or wife, no matter how skeptical of the supernatural, would not be tempted by such an offer?

Who, beaten and bruised, adrift in the stormy seas of grief, could resist clasping onto this outstretched hand – a hand that promises to lead you to more sheltered shores?

Well, in essence, this is what professional psychic medium, Fiona Stewart Williams, promises to those who come to see her.

Last Wednesday, Fiona – whose brochure labels her ‘Northern Ireland’s Leading Psychic and Spiritualist Medium’ – came to Tyrone. More specifically, she hosted an evening in a modest, but pristine, upstairs room in the Mellon Country Hotel.

Naturally, intrigued by a person purporting to possess such otherworldly powers, a colleague and I went along to check it out.

So too did around 70 other people – many of whom, as it turned out, were deep in the turbulent throes of recent grief.

So what exactly is going on here?

The first thing I noticed about the ‘Audience with Fiona’ was the overwhelming smell of chips.

As myself and my colleague, Niamh, ascended the stairs toward the relevant room, Niamh accurately predicted the presence of a nearby buffet.

We entered the room to find that the bloodhound had nailed it; everyone was mid-feast.

“Let’s hang back until they’ve all ate up,” she said.

“Good idea,” I agreed.

So, right enough, what exactly is going on here?

As we killed time, slurping pints of orange in the lobby, we flicked through Fiona’s slick, purple brochure.

Slapped across the front of the brochure was a woman that we placed as being somewhere in her mid-50s. Dressed like a genie that was ready for a yoga class, this lady proudly presented a crystal ball to the camera like Mrs Doyle would a cup of tea to Fr Ted.

This, we confidently assumed, must be Fiona.

In its opening gambit, the pamphlet read, ‘Fiona is a natural Psychic and Spiritualist Medium. Since a young child, she has been in touch with the etheric realms, sensing, hearing and seeing her spirit friends…’

“Google etheric,” I instructed my partner.

After a brief moment, she replied, “Means relating to the heavens or a spiritual world or plane of existence.”

Further perusal of the brochure revealed that Fiona discovered she was clairvoyant at the age of ten, after being given a devastating message by her – presumably – deceased father.

The brochure said that, as well as group readings, Fiona could be booked for parties, workshops, palm and tarot card readings.

Apparently, Fiona could travel to most venues, however, in circumstances of geographical inconvenience, she could also perform remote reading via Skype, Facetime or phone.

“Handy,” remarked my colleague.

The clock struck 8pm. It was time to follow the aromatic trail of chips back to the spiritual arena.

Right, now we’ll find out what exactly is going on here

The first thing to acknowledge is that Fiona is scrupulously up front about the fact that not everybody will get what they want from the event.

Some, explained Fiona, who wish to reconnect with a loved one, will not be able to do so.

Some spirits might be too shy, busy, timid, private, or otherwise unavailable. That, it seems, is just how they roll in the spirit world. And sure who could argue with her?

However, the implicit guarantee for those who attend an ‘Audience with Fiona’ seems to be that some people will find what they have been searching for; be it a word, message, or a some other sign to give them a glimmer of hope, comfort or strength.

Naturally, with the price of admission so reasonably set at just £15, Fiona has no bother filling halls across the country.

Right, looks like we are about to find out what is going on here

“It’s nice to see you all,” began Fiona. “Of course, I cannot see some of you, because you are in the spirit world.”

Seated around big circular tables covered with white cloth, the overwhelmingly female crowd went quiet as Fiona kicked things off with a short barrage of self-deprecating jokes – most of which were either weight or hot-flush related, or both.

With her captive audience disarmed and full of finger-food, Fiona got into the readings.

Confessions of a semi-skeptic

Now, at this point I want to throw my cards on the table, face-up.

When I arrived at the Mellon, I did not arrive with what Fiona might define as an ‘open mind’.

I am not set against all things spiritual – not at all, in fact.

However, prior to that evening, I had never – that I know of, anyway – met somebody with the ability to communicate with the dead. Therefore, it was going to take some solid evidence to persuade me that such a thing was actually possible.

But, given Fiona’s reputation, if anybody was going to be fit to produce the requisite evidence to convince me, there really seemed to be no better woman for the job.

In addition to the proof problem, however, there was one other reservation I quietly carried into The Mellon that night.

I have always found there to be something icky and somehow contradictory in the idea of charging money to put people in touch with their deceased loved ones. It seems to me, that if you were fortunate enough to be blessed with the gift of clairvoyance, that should probably come coupled with a duty of charity, and an obligation to share your gift selflessly.

For example, there is a reason that Jesus was not healing lepers at the funfair, or curing the blind at Nutts Corner.

Right, so that is what is going on here

Over the next few hours, Fiona claimed to speak to dead fathers, mothers, grandparents, and, at one point, she communed with an 18-year-old chocolate labrador. Apparently, one of the great miracles of doggy death is that the canine in question develops a facility for the English language upon expiration.

The first section of the show seemed to involve Fiona allowing the spirits in the room to make themselves known to her. As they manifested themselves to Fiona’s senses, she would describe what she seen, heard, smelt, felt.

As Fiona painted a picture of the particular spirit she had on the cosmic line, members of the audience would shout out, or raise a hand, when they thought that they recognised the person ‘coming through’.

Sometimes, it would take a while for an audience member to recognise the spirit.

This would lead to Fiona’s details becoming more stretched, sprawling and obscure.

Other times, however, somebody would almost immediately recognise their loved one. In fact, on one occasion, Fiona, who frequently reminded us that she was ‘not any good with names’, actually got the exact personage of the spirit spot on.

From the tear-filled eyes, profuse nodding, and crumpled expressions, it was clear that some people had gotten exactly what they came for.

These people, I would guess, left the place feeling filled with a renewed sense of hope, and whole-heartedly convinced that Fiona is indeed a bonified psychic medium.

Others, however, will have left feeling emptier, more hollow than when they arrived, utterly unconvinced by the degree of accuracy, insight or depth of the reading they received. Others – as outlined in Fiona’s disclaimer – will have forked out 15 quid for no reading at all.

What might have been going on and what was definitely going on

I cannot say for sure that Fiona is not a psychic, just as nobody else can say for definite that she is.

But there were dozens on Wednesday night – and hundreds, if not thousands who would agree with them – that, in their opinion, Fiona’s readings constituted rock-solid evidence that a spiritual connection had been made. Those people, I have no doubt, would defend Fiona’s reputation with religious conviction.

However, for myself, Fiona’s show will have served as proof of nothing more than the unlikely places that grieving people will turn in search of comfort and consolation.

To me, Fiona appeared to have a good grasp of archetypes, an unbroken and beguiling gaze and a decent sense of humour. What she did not appear to possess, were psychic powers.

Many would disagree, and that is their right.

However, what is beyond dispute is this: Almost everybody who attended on Wednesday night, whether in an act of desperation or a leap of hopeful faith, had been brought to Fiona by a burning need to reconnect with a dead friend or relative.

In some sense, we experience what we believe we experience. Pain is subjective, and so too is the relief or exacerbation of it.

Each of Fiona’s customers will have their own interpretation of what exactly she did – or failed to do – for them that night.

To attempt to calculate whether, on the balance of things, the good outweighed the bad, would be an exercise in futility.

And, when it comes to ascertaining the essential, inarguable truth of what Fiona is, I suppose there is only one person who will ever be fit to do that – and that is Fiona herself.