Necromancy. March 2014.

Dear Rowley,

Wasn’t the sunshine glorious in London today? So which clown decides to wear an Anderson & Sheppard grey flannel jacket with Uniqlo grey flannel slacks? Some people. As Vreeland says, ‘on you it works’. So I decided to go stoating round London to try and clear my head taking pictures for the Tweeps. Such fun but put me back in bed for another day! Did you hear my Twitter account got hacked? So I says to her I says, ‘Right lady, I’ll hunt you down with dogs’. I wonder if you can trace hackers?

On my travels I saw lots of interesting people. Mr and Mrs John Rocha were walking down Pall Mall. Julie Burchill had a smile on her face in Covent Garden that suggested she was up to no good. I’d like to say I saw Dame Angela Lansbury but that isn’t true. She’s got her haunches in a hip bath getting over eight shows a week of¬†Blithe Spirit…brilliant I might add.

But inspired by Dame Angela I decided on a dilemma that would have foxed King Solomon. I was going to pop into St George’s Mayfair for the sung eucharist but already have a date in my diary for cocktails at the rectory with Roddy then lunch at Brooks’s Club when I feel better. People will say we’re in love. Any road up, instead I decided to consult the necromancers at the Psychic Readings and all things general involving mysticism shop in Covent Garden to see just how long it might take to regain my health.

I rarely have readings except for the few times I reach a crisis point and after the recent ‘troubles’ I have never faced a crisis as fundamental not to mention one that put me in mortal peril. So I met a male psychic medium in an attic room that stank of joss sticks and he read my tarot cards. Suffice to say I came away with knowledge confirmed about profession, people and wellbeing. He also suggested I develop my psychic side. There’s always been a bit of gypsy in me…no sniggering at the back.

Long story short, I left having ordered the Crowley Thoth tarot card pack that is to be read monthly at the full moon. I only have a passing knowledge of Alastair Crowley and believe him to be rather a booby. But I think I do have something of a talent for knowing when someone needs a telephone call and an inkling of what might happen to people other than myself. So when they remake On A Clear Day You Can See Forever I might audition.

The upshot of the conversation was that in twenty years of this chap reading the tarot, I am the first who chose the cards and looked at them before passing each card to the psychic. I am not sure whether this means my future is up to a point in my control but I suppose that’s true of all of us. So the next time you’re on Brighton Pier look out for me with the hooped gold earrings and coins suspended from my paisley headscarf. It could be an entirely new career.

I am sure Rector Roddy will tell me to stop entertaining thoughts of sacrificing chickens in Bloomsbury Square when the full moon is over midnight. Mind you, I think white witchcraft might be worth exploring. It will certainly come in handy if I ever encounter the Wicked Witch of the West End again and that is incredibly unlikely. Part of the reading was to debunk the myth about keeping friends close and enemies closer. The trick apparently is to run for the hills the minute you sense enemies near.

Anyway, enough about me. What do you think of me? Only kidding darling. I do blame that Angela Lansbury’s brilliant performance as Madame Arcati in Blithe Spirit for setting me on this road to necromancy. Mind you Patricia believes in guardian angels. Whenever you see a white feather it means your guardian angel is hovering. So imagine my surprise when I opened a box of eggs and out flew a feather this morning…

While we’re on the subject of witchcraft and clairvoyants, I did have a hoot with Keith from Poole’s when we spent a day in Newcastle-upon-Tyne and came across a gypsy caravanette in the city centre with a sign reading ‘Gypsy Smith: granddaughter of Gypsy Rose Lee’. I don’t think Gypsy Smith realised that Gypsy Rose Lee was the 20th century’s most famous stripper with many talents of which clairvoyance was definitely not one of them.

Anyway the good news is I finally agreed to a prescription of sleepers. The bad news is the dose didn’t even touch the sides so after another three sleepless nights I was at my wit’s end and am hoping for a stronger dose so sleep deprivation isn’t one of the health problems to solve. I’m going to end up like Neely Smith in The Valley of the Dolls and no mistake. Don’t like pills, do you? I think if you’re leading a healthy and happy life then there isn’t much need for chemicals. Not that I’m planning on becoming a Christian Scientist. Pills have saved my life more than once and they will do so again so I will hopefully live to work another day.