The prediction

The picture of Princess Diana being chased helter-skelter through the underground streets of Paris, by a multitude of paparazzi, torments Peter. He can feel the intensity of the chase and of the of the final tragedy.

Shortly after the accident, in one of the many journals that focusses on her tragic life, he is intrigued to read that, immediately prior to going there, she had visited a Clairvoyant in Stratford-upon-Avon. He is doubtful about the veracity of clairvoyants, but it prompts him to wonder if the Clairvoyant had suggested to her that she should avoid the paparazzi at all costs. If this were so, he could see that this advice may well have contributed to the horrific accident that took her precious life.

By co-incidence, Kevin is now waxing lyrical to him about a clairvoyant in Stratford, who he presumes must be the same one. ‘She only takes clients by introduction,’ Kevin tells him. Peter looks at his friend and he responds spontaneously, “I must visit her. You have contacts if Stratford. Please arrange it for me!”

Two weeks later, Peter is sitting in his car outside an ordinary terraced house in Strafford-upon-Avon. He has broken his journey to a lunch appointment at the Houses of Parliament. As he sits, he wonders if he is doing the right thing. He does not realise that such reflection is normal for someone who always arrives early. Eventually, five minutes before the appointed time, he walks up the path and rings the bell.

The white-haired woman who answers the door, asks him to confirm his identity. Then she leads him through in the parlour and points to a chair, as an invitation that he be seated.

Peter is sceptical and is expecting her to ask him questions, the answers to which will allow her to frame any messages she has for him. Instead of that, she sits opposite to him and closes her eyes. Eventually she opens them and looks directly at him; “You know someone who was called ‘the wild colonial boy’?” Peter looks at her and does not respond. His mind is racing. He knows that Frank’s recently deceased father always called him that.

“I have a message for you to give to him,” she continues…. “His father is happy, and he should not worry about him.

This introduction grabs Peter’s complete attention. She cannot have known about his friendship with Frank. Nor could she have known that Frank and his father always celebrated birthdays with a raucous rendition of this provocative Irish ballad. His attention is grabbed back to the woman who continues speaking; “I see Moses coming down Mount Sinai carrying tablets of stone. Have you been breaking the commandments?”

Brought back to reality by such a penetrating question, Peter focusses on the woman in front of him. “I don’t think so!” he tells her. His mind goes to the occasional indiscretion with females and to the commandment that says, ‘thou shall not commit adultery’. He hesitates to believe that any of his dead relatives would be admonishing him for this. Despite that, he is sitting forward now, and he can see that this woman’s direct and precise analysis could well have influenced the Princess.

“You are searching for something!” …Peter looks intently at her, but he does not respond. She takes a piece of paper and draws a picture of a priest wearing a round hat with a brim, and two white bib pieces. She then pushes her sketch across the table to him: “You will meet this man who has the answers you are looking for. You will meet him where there are rocks, grapes and sea.”

Peter’s mind races as he drives into London and goes over the interview again and again. Twice, he is so distracted that he provokes other driver’s rage with his erratic manoeuvrers.

He has been researching the locations of ancient religious sites in Europe and has been intrigued to discover that they duplicate the pattern of the stars in the Northern sky. The answers he is looking for include…. Who put this pattern down, who created it, how did they do it and what is its purpose?

He has an hour to spare when he drives through Earls Court towards Chelsea and the Embankment. His friend Michael, who lives in Nobel House on Smith Square, has agreed to let him park his car in one of their underground bays.

Now he is walking towards the Houses of Parliament and the public entrance. Inside, he goes to the security gate and announces himself and his lunch appointment with the Member he has come to visit. While he is waiting, he turns to examine the paintings on the walls of the grand foyer.

When he looks up. his brain freezes. There, on the wall, is a painting, that is some twenty feet in height and fifteen feet wide of Moses coming down Mount Sinai carrying tables of stone. How could she have known this? Who could have shown her this picture and why? She could never have known that he was coming here, and it is unlikely she would know of the paintings that hand on the walls of the public foyer,

His lunch with the Member of Parliament is friendly and constructive, but his subconscious mind is all the time dragged to the accuracy of what the clairvoyant told him. Any scepticism he had previously held about such people, has been comprehensively annihilated.

Now, three months after his visit to parliament, he is sitting on a rock close to the sea, a few miles south of Venice, as his wife and daughters splash about in the water. He and his family are on holiday, but he is cognizant of the fact that this is a place with rocks, sea, and grapes. The surrounding area is heavily populated with vineyards. In fact, he has already purchased two inexpensive cubi-containers of delightful white wine.

A shadow cuts off the sunlight, causing him to look up at the intrusion. Peter’s heart skips a beat when he sees the black cassock and the ‘Capello Romano’ on the head of the priest that is standing beside him. Peter stands, his eyes wide in expectation of what is to come; “You have a message for me!” he says.

The priest looks at Peter and smiles, so that his white teeth glisten in the sunlight. He whispers a response; “Our father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…”

Peter frowns; “What name?” he asks

There is moment of hesitation before the priest continues, “for thine is the power and the glory, forever and ever Amen.”

“It cannot be! Amen! Is that it?” Peter looks down at the sea splashing on the rocks, as his mind ponders what the priest has said. When he looks again, the priest no longer there. Peter looks in every direction, but he has gone.

 Peter shakes his head as he thinks about what the priest said, “…. Amen" He thinks it through from Amen to Amon, to Amon-Ra the great Egyptian god.... Amen, forever and ever