A change in the law could mean mediums, psychics and healers face
prosecution if they cannot justify their claims. Spiritualists are
delivering a mass petition to Downing Street and complaining that a
genuine religion is being discriminated against.

Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyant,









Had a bad cold, nevertheless









Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,









With a wicked pack of cards.

Whether it's TS Eliot or Shirley Ghostman, the world of the medium has been gently drizzled with ridicule for some decades.

But now psychics, healers and spiritualists fear a new threat. Not gentle ribbing, but the long arm of the law.

Parliament is about to debate measures that will see all forms of
paid-for paranormal activities fall under the new Consumer Protection
Regulations. As well as tackling a raft of more mundane commercial
sharp practice, these regulations will also replace the Fraudulent
Mediums Act 1951.

And some mediums are not happy. Under the old legislation, it had to be
proven that any accused psychic was setting out to commit a fraud. The
first case was a man in 1952 on a charge that he did in "purporting to
act as a spiritualistic medium, unlawfully use a certain fraudulent
device, namely, a length of cheesecloth". He was acquitted, setting a
pattern for the last 50 years of very few prosecutions.

Under the new laws, some mediums feel they will be
obliged to prove what they do. And when you're in the business of
contacting spirits in the afterlife, that's not easy.

At Battersea Spiritualist Church, the new laws mean
visiting medium Bill Rae is peppering his session of clairvoyance - for
which there is only a voluntary collection - with disclaimers along the
lines of "this is not science" and "this is just an experiment".

Spirit world

The clairvoyancy session is like a game of psychic battleships. Rae
fires off little salvos. Most shots miss, but many hit, generating
wonder in the congregation.

He speaks to a man a few rows back. Rae, who receives
nothing more than expenses for these sessions, has seen a man in the
"spirit world". He thinks it might be the subject's father. The man
nods and Rae continues.

The medium describes the man's father as jolly and there is agreement
from the subject. Now Rae sees a name. George. But the man knows no
George. "Georgette?" No, the man replies.

Then the medium wants to establish where the man's
father is from. He sees a link to Jamaica. No, says the man. Now Rae
sees the word "Windward". The Windward Isles, he tentatively ventures.
No, says the man again. But Rae is unperturbed. He guesses that the man
is from an island. No again.

Then Rae has a purple patch. He asks about the name
Gregory. The man's brother is called Gregory. And he infers that the
man's father died of prostate cancer, which is correct. The subject
comes from Washington DC and his family have been there for
generations. But he is inspired by Rae's references to his brother and
father and seems totally convinced.

Talking to Rae, it is immediately apparent that he has a strong and genuine belief in what he is doing.

Healing hands

Another person who is concerned over the new rules is Alison Lyndle, a
spiritual healer, shaman and "space clearing consultant" who operates
out of an anonymous interwar mock Tudor house in Harrow.

Contrary to the cliche of the heavily bejewelled
healer, Lyndle's hands are unadorned with rings. And yet she, and the
people who come to see her, believe they have the power to heal.

The patient lies on a GP surgery style bed as Lyndle
lays hands on the patient's head for more than half an hour. Hearing
just the chirping of birds and the gentle thrum of the central heating
boiler turning on and off, it is easy to see how both sceptic and
believer would feel better afterwards.