The houses around the Great Georges Street area of Liverpool are large. They were once the homes of the well-to-do and the area was considered highly respectable. Maria lived just around the corner from Great Georges Street in one such house that had been converted into apartments. She had moved into the ground-floor apartment with her husband and her two children – boys aged three and five – approximately six months earlier.
Maria told me that from the time that she and her family had moved into their home she had never felt particularly settled. For some reason she had always felt worried about her children and did not like to leave them alone in any room on their own. Even when they were in bed she felt the urge to keep checking on them to make sure that they were safe, even though she knew that no harm could possibly come to them. Her husband, she told me, was becoming more than a little irritated by her constant checking and nervousness about their two sons, especially as she now refused to go out without them, which had effectively brought to an end the Saturday nights out that they used to enjoy while their sons were in the care of a babysitter. It had reached the point where Maria’s nervousness was having a detrimental effect on her marriage. A further house move was out of the question because Maria’s husband could find nothing wrong with their home and it had the added bonus of being close to his work in a nearby restaurant. With late working hours, it was simple for him to walk the short distance home rather than have to get a cab.
‘Joe thinks it’s all rubbish and imaginings,’ Maria explained to me, ‘and it’s true that there’s nothing tangible there. Nothing has happened – yet! I feel, though, that before too long things may start to happen and I’m afraid for my two boys.’
I could see that Maria was truly frightened. I could tell that she was a very sensitive soul and was obviously picking up something from the atmosphere of the house in which she lived. I decided that the only way to get any answers for her was to actually visit her home to see what I could find out.
On the appointed day I arrived outside the large old house. As I stood on the doorstep waiting for Maria to answer the bell, I felt a sense of unease overcome me. Just standing there, before I had even entered the house, I knew that something sinister had taken place within the four walls. In spite of obvious renovation over the years, there still remained the ominous presence of death.
As I heard footsteps approaching the front door I whispered a prayer of protection and asked Sam to draw close to me. Almost immediately I felt his reassuring presence and heard his quiet voice reply, ‘I’m here, Derek.’
Maria opened the door. As she did so, immediately the feelings that had assailed my senses grew tenfold. I was whisked back in time to the mid-Victorian era. The white painted hallway faded and was replaced by a much darker decoration – brown paint and dark woodwork. The carpeted floor was replaced by a tiled floor with a chequered pattern. Horrifyingly, on the floor lay the body of a woman, horribly butchered – her blood was splattered up the walls and pooled across the floor.
I was snapped back to the present day by Maria’s greeting: ‘Hello, Derek. Welcome! Do come in.’
I walked into a long passageway with various doors leading off it. These I presumed led to the other rooms in the building. Maria led me along the hallway to the rear of the house and invited me into the kitchen, which looked out onto a relatively small yard area. She introduced me to her friend Val, whom she had invited along for moral support.
Once more, when entering the room, I was taken back in time clairvoyantly. The bright paintwork and stainless steel kitchen equipment had been replaced by a dismal-looking room containing a copper boiler and a huge stone sink. Once upon a time this room had been a scullery of sorts, where laundering of the family’s clothes and linen had taken place. Again, the whole place was smeared with blood – it lay in pools on the floor and was smeared on the walls. I looked down and it was even more horrifying – there was the body of a small boy, his head almost severed. Next to him lay a long-bladed knife.
Desperately I fought the feeling of nausea that threatened to overcome me and tried to bring myself back to the present day. The horrific scene began to dissipate and once more I was back in the pleasant, bright modern-day kitchen. I accepted the cup of coffee that Maria was offering me.
I was definitely beginning to understand why a sensitive person such as Maria was finding it difficult living in what should have been a very nice and comfortable home. I asked her where her children were. She told me that she had dropped them off earlier at her mother’s home. I was more than pleased to hear that the two lads were safe and away from what could turn out to be a rather difficult situation.
I felt that I would need the concentration and energy of both Maria and Val on this occasion. When we had finished our coffee I asked whether I could go back down the hallway and into the room at the front of the apartment and which looked out over the street.
Maria and Val accompanied me. On opening the door to what was a pleasant and comfortable lounge, again I was whooshed back in time to a room heavy with dark Victoria decoration, gas mantles and solid furniture. Once more my clairvoyant eye took in the horrifying spectacle of murder and carnage. A girl lay bleeding profusely on the floor. Close by the body of another boy – a little older than the one in the kitchen – lay slumped by the ornate fireplace. My ears rang with the screams and cries of the four victims who had passed on to the world of spirit so horrifically more than 100 years earlier. I was sickened by the sound of a knife hacking and slashing through flesh and bone. The acrid smell of blood hung heavy in the air.
Up to this point in time I had merely viewed the horrific aftermath of a mass murder, the emanations of which hung in the atmosphere due, I knew, to the regular spirit return of the perpetrator of the horrendous crime. After a few moments of standing in the room opening myself up further to the terrible emanations I began to detect a spirit presence. A young man began to emerge from the ether. He was not tall – around 5 feet, 6 inches – and was of stocky build. His dark hair, though covered by a hat, hung down the sides of his face and he wore a dark coat with light-coloured trousers. He had a wild expression upon his face and his hands hung down limply by his sides. They were covered in the blood of his victims.
I sensed an evil in the spirit of the man standing before me – an evil combined with a complete lack of feeling for anything or anybody. When on the Earth plane, he had been a deranged soul willing to do anything to earn himself a few shillings. I had the impression that he had once been connected in some way to the sea. I felt that somehow he had inveigled himself into this house and had dispatched the occupants with no more feeling or compassion than one would have in swatting a fly.
I prayed once more silently to Sam. Again I heard him whisper close by me, ‘I’m here.’
I knew that I had to rid the home of the evil the spirit man had brought with him. Sam’s voice told me, ‘He did not escape man’s justice – he was hanged for his crimes. He is John – John Wilson. Now he needs to face spiritual justice so that he can progress and find his proper place in the spirit world.’
I had not come equipped to perform a candle rite to clear the atmosphere of a spirit’s presence, as I had not dreamed that I would require such radical action when I had set out that morning. I hoped that Maria would be able to help. I could see from the surroundings that she had a number of candles.
In order not to unduly frighten the two young women I quietly asked Maria whether she could help by providing a white cloth, two bowls – one filled with salt and one with water – and seven candles – three green and four white. I was relieved when she said that she could. She