Oh Great, Now I Can Hear Dead People: What Would You Do if You Could Suddenly Hear Real Dead People?

by Deborah Durbin

  I’m not sure if I’m correctly dressed for the occasion, plumping for black jeans and a black t-shirt, seeing as it was radio I thought it wouldn’t matter what I wore. The smart looking receptionist at the front desk obviously thought differently because she looked me up and down and said, ‘Oh, you don’t look like a psychic. I thought you’d be older.’ Maybe if I’d clamped a huge pair of curtain rings to my ears it would have given the right effect.

  ‘Mystic Crystal?’ A young woman in a beige suit and a bright smile approaches me with a clipboard in her hands.

  ‘Sorry? Oh yes, that’s me.’ I say, feeling a little foolish for forgetting my ‘stage’ name.

  ‘Hi, I’m Sarah-Jane. You’re on in…’ Sarah-Jane checks her watch, ‘…exactly seven minutes. If you’d like to follow me.’ She says and hurries towards the lift with me hurrying behind her.

  ‘Sorry it’s a bit of a rush.’ Sarah-Jane says over her shoulder, ‘our last guest, a Bollywood actress, ran over slightly and we’re behind schedule, hence why we have to fit you in between the gardener’s slot and the news bulletin.’ She says breathlessly as we make our way to the forth floor. ‘Have you done live radio before?’

  ‘Um, no, first time.’ I say nervously. I don’t think you can count the live comedy sketch me, Jack and Amy did for the local hospital radio for Red Nose Day one year..

  ‘You’ll be fine. Well I expect you already know that – you being a psychic and all that.’ She laughs.

  God, I wish people would stop saying that. It makes me so annoyed, not to mention guilty. Oh I hope I don’t screw this up. Still, at least they don’t know my real name, and if I lower my voice a little, I’m hoping that no one will recognise it’s me. When I was younger I could impersonate all sorts of celebrities. I should have auditioned for Britain’s Got Talent just on the basis of my fantastic Cilla Black impression. Maybe I should do my readings in the style of Cilla for this phone in. ‘We’ve got a lorra, lorra dead people coming through...’

  Town FM covers most of the south west area and has a listening figure of around 300,000 – I know this because I quickly looked them up on my iPhone prior to making the 25 mile trip from Bath to the touristy seaside town of Weston-super-Mare – and I’m just praying that none of my friends or family listen to it.

  ‘Right, go straight through there. Annette is waiting to take you in. Just be quiet when the red light is on. I think they’re winding up Colin the Carrot Man now, and then you’ll be on.’ My meeter and greeter tells me. ‘Have you got your crystal ball?’ She giggles.

  ‘Um, no… I don’t use one of those.’ I reply. Oh bugger! Maybe I should have invested in one for effect, although I have no idea where I might find a crystal ball and what did she mean by winding up Colin the Carrot Man, I wonder? Do they taunt him about the size of his carrots? I also wonder if Colin knows of anyone who has a fear of the orange root vegetable, which he might be able to refer me to.

  ‘Hi, you must be Crystal.’ A woman I presume to be Annette whispers and holds her hand out to shake. ‘Won’t keep you a minute, just finishing up with Colin here.’ She smiles. Colin the Carrot Man, who, funnily enough has ginger hair, nods and I nod in return. Annette flicks a few switches and places a set of headphones on her head.

  ‘Well thank you for that amazing insight into the humble carrot, Colin. I will look at my carrot cake in a whole new light from now on.’ She laughs. ‘And Colin will be here next Sunday to tell us all how the carrot can cure the most amazing aliments. Now coming up we have the one and only Mystic Crystal here to answer all your spooky questions, so get calling. We now have Katy Perry with Firework.’ Annette flicks another switch on the multi-switch dashboard in front of her, takes her headphones off and smiles at me. My stomach flips as I hear the tinny sound of one of Jack’s favourite singers coming through the headphones. I wish Jack were here to give me a bit of moral support. Mind you, he’s probably too pre-occupied with his new girlfriend to be thinking about what I’m doing today.

  ‘OK, thanks Colin. See you same time next week.’ Annette practically pushes Colin out of the studio. ‘So, have you been on live radio before, hun?’ She asks me. I shake my head.

  ‘No matter. It’s a piece of cake. I used to be in insurance – the most boring job in the world – and if I can do it, then anyone can.’

  Annette is small in frame and a naturally pretty woman. At a guess I would say she’s in her early 40’s. As she talks she moves various switches up and down as though she knows what she’s doing. Annette pushes her long fringe out of her green eyes and passes me a set of headphones.

  ‘Pop these on and speak into this microphone.’ She instructs, ‘if you want to talk directly to me without the listener hearing, just push that button, but try not to do it when they are in mid-sentence as it mutes them on the live feed. Old ginger-nut does it to me all the time.’ Annette laughs.

  ‘OK.’ Is all I can manage to say.

  ‘There’s a glass of water there – unless you want something a little stronger?’

  ‘No, water’s fine, thank you.’ I manage to say.

  Come on Samantha, be brave! I tell myself. No one knows who you are, so just do what you do on the phone lines.

  ‘Right, you ready?’ Annette’s words shake me out of my face-your-fear thoughts. I wish I’d read Amy’s self-help collection now.

  ‘OK.’ I say nervously.

  Annette puts her finger to her mouth and flicks another set of switches on her dashboard, which resembles something from the Star Ship Enterprise. I always thought that radio stations were massive, but this one is no bigger than a box bedroom, with smoky glass panelling. Behind the panelling sit two other people – one I learn is Jeff the news reader, a middle aged man who looks a bit like Sean Connery. The other is a rather handsome looking sound technician called Liam. He gives me the thumbs up. I smile nervously and thumbs up him back then put my headphones on.

  ‘And that was the lovely Katy Perry with Fireworks.’ Annette says through her mic as she winks at me, ‘and if you’re one of the many Perry fans out there, you’ll be glad to hear that she will be touring in the UK soon, so listen out for the chance to win some signed stuff. Now, before you shoot off in search of some carrots, we have a very special guest here with us today. Everybody give a big hand for our very own Town FM psychic, Mystic Crystal!’ Annette shouts. I can see Liam and Jeff opposite rattling football rattlers and cheering as a wave of cheering and applause shoots through my headphones.

  ‘Now Crystal,’ Annette looks at me, ‘I understand you have the ability to tap into the unknown and reveal our futures, is that right?’

  Errr, I have no bloody idea actually, I think to myself.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ I say instead in my lowest voice, hoping that I don’t sound too much like a man.

  ‘So, you can talk to the dead?’ Annette enquires.

  Oh crikey!

  ‘Well, sometimes.’ I say, remembering what Miracle told me when I first phoned up for the job. If I’m honest, I haven’t got a bloody clue how this talking to the dead stuff works.

  ‘Wow! That must be amazing. So do you tell your own fortune? Do you know when it’s worth getting out of bed, or when you’re going to win the lottery?’ Annette laughs.

  ‘Um, no. It’s very difficult to predict your own destiny.’ I say. I have this on good authority from watching hours and hours of Charmed on Channel Five. ‘And although I can advise you what the outcome will be given a certain situation, nothing is set in stone. We all have our own free-will.’ I add, feeling quite pleased with myself thanks to Aaron Spelling’s supernatural series.

  ‘Fascinating, well I can see we have a lot of callers who wants to speak to you, so let’s get started.’ Annette flicks another switch which in turn sets the soundtrack from the film, The Sixth Sense ringing into my ears.

  ‘OK, our first caller is Hazel from Wales. Hazel, what would you like to ask Mystic Crystal, hun?’

  ‘Oh, hello Annette, hello Mysti
c Crystal.’

  ‘Hello.’ We both say in unison. I shuffle my cards nervously, praying that Hazel from Wales isn’t going to ask me when her boyfriend is going to propose to her or some other such, I-haven’t-got-a-clue, question.

  ‘I wonder if Mystic Crystal can tell me if and when my boyfriend and I will get married please?’ Welsh Hazel asks.

  Oh crap!

  ‘OK, well Mystic Crystal, is Hazel going to marry her man soon?’ Annette asks.

  I feel faint. Why, oh why did I agree to do this? Bloody Miracle! My hair is sticking to my face and my t-shirt is stuck to my back, due to my excessive sweating.

  ‘Well…’ I say fumbling with my cards and trying to think of something to say next. In a split second I have a flash in my mind. I can see a hot beach, somewhere like the Bahamas, with beautiful palm trees in the background. I can also see a couple, but not their faces. Their backs are turned to me, but I’m sure this is the woman who has phoned in.

  ‘Crystal?’ Annette asks.

  ‘Yes? Oh, sorry yes…um… Hazel….’ I say as I turn three cards over. ‘Yes, you will marry your boyfriend soon, but I don’t think it will be in this country. I have a feeling, and I could be wrong, but I think you will marry abroad and it will be somewhere very hot.’ I venture. God, this sounds so bloody vague. I bet she thinks I’m a right con-artist.

  ‘We will?’ My first caller says excitedly.

  I suddenly get a buzzing sound in my ears, which makes me jolt. I look across at Annette who doesn’t flinch. The buzzing is like one of those white noise sounds that you get from an old TV set or a radio when you are trying to tune it in to a station. Out of nowhere a woman’s voice whispers into my headphones.

  ‘Tell her they have my blessing.’

  I look at Annette again.

  ‘What?’ I say out loud. ‘Who the hell are you?’

  Annette looks quizzical at me and mouths are-you-ok?

  ‘I’m her grandmother, Winnie.’ The voice says.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ I shout out loud. Oh my God! No, this can’t be happening, I think, while all the time I can hear some woman’s voice in my ears and it’s not Annette or Hazel. Oh God, please don’t let this be a dead person. Please don’t let it be a dead person. Please let it all be in my head.

  ‘She has had a hard time over this relationship and not everyone has approved, but tell her not to worry. It will all be OK.’ The woman’s voice says to me. Holy crap!

  ‘Um, we seem to have a little technical hitch, Hazel, could you remain on the line hun?’ Annette asks, panic rising in her voice. She flicks a load of switches and signals to Liam to play The Sixth Sense jingle again.

  ‘Crystal! What are you doing? You can’t swear on live radio!’ Annette hisses at me. I suddenly realise where I am.

  ‘Shit! Sorry Annette. Is the caller still on the line?’

  Now I’m panicking and am not all together sure of what I should be doing.

  ‘Yes, we told her we have a technical hitch.’ Annette nods to Liam to kill the jingle and link us back up.

  ‘I’m sorry about that folks. A slight technical hitch there. Hazel are you still there, hun?’

  ‘Yes I am. Is everything OK?’ Hazel replies.

  ‘Yes fine. Um Hazel,’ I venture, ‘do you happen to know anyone by the name of Winnie?’

  ‘Yes. My grandmother was called Winnie – well Winifred, but everyone called her Winnie. She died two years ago.’ Hazel confirms.

  My stomach does a flip. Oh I feel so sick. Right, hold it together, Sam. Oh great, now I feel faint. I don’t want to talk to dead people. I try to think of how Miracle would handle this. I remember her telling me all about different psychic abilities and clairaudience, where you can hear dead people talking, was one of them. Oh great, I’m a freak who can talk to dead people! I’m a talking-to-dead-people freak!

  ‘OK… Um…well um, I have someone here called Winnie and she wanted me to pass on a message to you. She says that you have her blessing. She knows it has been difficult for you and many people have not been supportive, but you have her blessing and she says it will all be OK.’ I say as quickly as possible. I’ve already sworn live on radio, what does an old woman’s voice in my head matter?

  I hear Hazel gasp.

  ‘Does that make sense to you Hazel?’ I ask. Annette is excitedly clapping her hands.

  ‘Yes, yes it does.’ Hazel replies, ‘you’re right, my grandmother was called Winnie and she’s right, people haven’t been very supportive. My fiancé and I come from two very different cultures and it has been difficult for us to stay together. He was supposed to go into an arranged marriage, but… well we fell in love with each other…’ Hazel says quietly.

  As I listen to Hazel, I turn the three cards over and sure enough there are hearts galore on all three.

  ‘Well, I don’t think you have to worry, Hazel. As your grandmother said, it may not be easy but stick to your guns. I think you and your fiancé are a match made in heaven.’ I say smiling to myself. How nice to be the bearer of good news, even though I have no idea of where that lot came from and I’m more than a bit worried that I can now hear an elderly woman chuckling inside my head. Maybe I should make an appointment to see the doctor after all this?

  ‘Thank you so much. We’ve been planning to get married for so long and it’s nice to know that it will finally happen.’ Hazel says. Annette swivels around in her chair and gives me a high-five. I look over at Liam, who gives me another thumbs up.

  ‘That was brilliant!’ Annette says after she’s flicked a few switches and puts Ghost Town by The Specials on to play.

  ‘Thank you.’ I say, ‘And sorry about swearing. Hazel’s grandmother took me a bit by surprise.’ – Well she did!

  ‘Right, you ready for your next one? We’ve got calls coming out of our ears here!’ Annette says.

  ‘OK.’ I reply, wondering just what I’ve let myself in for.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Okay, so now this is getting even freakier. In the space of 20 minutes, I’ve done seven readings, live on radio. I’ve had the voice of an old man yelling into my ear, shouting obscenities at me for not passing on a message to his sister quick enough. I’ve had a little girl telling me to tell her mummy that she loves her, and a young man telling me that he didn’t realise that the drugs would actually kill him and that he was sorry, he only took them for a laugh.

  Annette is looking very pleased with the way this show is going and keeps pushing me to take more calls from people who want to know what their future holds or want to hear from someone they have lost. In all honesty, I don’t know how much more I can take of this. Caller after caller comes through all wanting answers to their questions. Apparently, according to Miracle, what I have indeed just experienced is called clairaudience – in a nutshell, I can now hear dead people. Smashing.

  ‘And next on the line we have Becky who wants to know if she will leave her job soon. Over to you, Crystal.’ Annette smiles.

  I give my cards a quick shuffle. No matter how many calls I take, I always dread the next one coming. Once again I pick out three cards for the caller.

  ‘She’s pregnant you know.’ A voice says in my ear. Despite having now heard numerous voices since coming into the studio, I still look at Annette to make sure it isn’t her talking to me through the headphones. Annette is currently talking to Jeff in the opposite window. I’m not too sure if I like having other people’s voices in my head, to be honest with you. It’s…well it’s just not right, is it?

  The cards I draw are family cards. I have no idea how old this girl is, but she sounds quite young.

  ‘Becky, I’m not sure how to say this, but I’m being told that you are expecting a baby.’ I say hesitatingly.

  ‘Me? No way!’ Becky answers.

  Suddenly I’m at a bit of a loss for words. I look at Annette and wonder if it is her who’s expecting.

  ‘Umm… well…’ I stutter. I haven’t been wrong up to now, and Miracle did say to g
o with your first thoughts. Despite feeling as if I am going quietly mad, what with hearing voices and all, I still feel as though this girl is expecting a baby. ‘Well, I’m being shown a baby, so if you’re not pregnant, then there is someone around you who is, Becky.’ I know it sounds as though I’m clutching at straws, but I don’t know what else to say. Any moment now I’m half expecting her to say that she is actually not called Becky, but Brian and that she/he was testing me and that I am a complete fraud. Oh, give me back the good old days when all I had to worry about was curing someone who couldn’t stand the sight of a cabbage!

  ‘Well, you still haven’t answered my question.’ Becky snaps.

  ‘OK, well…’ I randomly pick out another three cards. One shows a pregnant woman - better not even go there. The next shows a sharp pair of scissors cutting a string and the third shows the fool, fresh beginnings and a new start.

  ‘Your cards do show that you will be cutting ties with someone or something and within a year your life will be very different to what it is now.’ I say. ‘So in answer to your question, yes I do feel that you will leave your job, Becky.’

  Annette pokes her tongue out at the microphone and then smiles at me. I blow my fringe out of my eyes. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

  ‘Well, that’s all we have time for folks. Apologies to those who couldn’t get through, but we hope Crystal will come back next week to answer all your mystical calls.’

  I look puzzled at Annette who smiles again. Liam and Jeff are both doing thumbs up to me, which I take to mean that the show went well. I feel like wee Jimmy Krankee with all this thumbs up business. Any moment now I feel as though I should shout out ‘Fandabbydozey!’ at the top of my voice.

  Annette introduces the news bulletin and signals Jeff in the opposite room that it’s his turn to take over.

  ‘Well!’ Annette turns to face me, ‘That was bloody brilliant, Darling!’ She says.

  ‘Oh, thank you. Sorry about swearing on air. Something took me by surprise.’

  ‘So, will you come back next week? I asked the producers if we can have a regular Sixth Sense slot and they agreed… please?’ Annette begs, ‘The producer said he has never had so many calls for a phone in and they do pay well, talking of which, here you go,’ she hands me a sealed envelope embossed with Town FM on it. Inside is £300 in cash.