And then she told me a spirit was coming through. My grandmother. “She’s here with us,” she said, closing her eyes. “What is she saying?” I asked. “She’s not saying anything,” she said, nodding gently, her hands aloft in concentration. “But I’m seeing her kicking a door. Does this mean anything to you? She’s kicking a door right off its hinges.” And I went to the loo and threw up.
