Sue’s After Dark Diaries Episode 35 | The Psychic Said What?

SUE’S AFTER DARK DIARIES | EP. 35

Sharon’s Brilliant Spiritual Idea

There are two types of messages Sharon sends.

The first type is normal.

The second type begins with “Don’t say no until you hear me out.”

Naturally, this story begins with the second type.

It arrived on Tuesday evening just as I was settling down with a glass of wine and a quiet sense that the world might finally behave itself for once.

Sharon’s message read:

“Psychic night at The Crown pub on Thursday. Girls’ night. We’re going.”

Notice the wording.

Not “Do you want to go?”

Not even “What do you think?”

Just a confident declaration that my future apparently involved sitting in a pub while someone who owned a crystal ball told me things about my life that Sharon would absolutely believe.

I replied with the only reasonable question.

“Why?”

Sharon responded almost instantly.

“Because it’s fun.”

That, historically speaking, is the same reasoning she used before:

The karaoke night.

The salsa dancing class.

And the unfortunate mechanical bull incident of 2019.

None of which ended quietly.

Still, curiosity is a dangerous thing.

And Sharon added the final persuasive detail.

“There’s wine.”

Two hours later, Karen and Jenny had been added to the group chat, and the evening was officially happening.

As I put my phone down, Benji lifted his head from the sofa and looked at me with the deep suspicion of a dog who senses incoming nonsense.

Dan sat quietly on the dresser where I’d left him.

“We’re going to a psychic night,” I told him.

Dan hummed faintly.

Which I chose to interpret as laughter.

Benji sighed.

Honestly, the judgement in that room was palpable.

Nevertheless, Thursday arrived, and before I could reconsider my life choices, Sharon texted, “Taxi’s here.”

As I approached, Sharon was giggling with Karen and Jenny.

“Ready to discover your destiny?” she asked cheerfully.

“Not particularly,” I replied.

But I got in the taxi anyway.

Because sometimes the only way to understand Sharon’s plans…

is to survive them.

The Pub With Questionable Mystical Energy

The Crown pub looked exactly how you would expect a place hosting a psychic evening to look.

Dim lighting.

Suspicious incense.

And a handwritten sign taped to the wall reading:

“Psychic Night – £10 Entry – Pay At Bar.”

Now, if someone genuinely possessed the ability to see the future, you might assume they’d be doing something slightly more lucrative than working between the fruit machine and the dartboard.

But Sharon was already excited.

“Ooooh, look!” she whispered.

“Tarot cards!”

Karen examined the room with cautious interest.

Jenny went straight to the bar.

Meanwhile, I took in the atmosphere.

Fairy lights blinked around the function room.

Fold-out chairs had been arranged in a circle.

A table at the front displayed crystals, candles, and a large velvet cloth that looked like it had previously lived a different life as curtains.

Behind the table sat the psychic.

She introduced herself as Madame Celestia.

Now, I’m not saying that isn’t her real name.

But if your job involves predicting the future in a pub function room, choosing a name that sounds like a rejected Harry Potter character feels like a bold marketing strategy.

Sharon leaned close to me.

“I can feel the energy already.”

“That might be the incense,” I whispered.

“Or the chips.”

Anyway, we sat down.

The lights dimmed further.

Madame Celestia raised her hands dramatically.

“The spirits are with us tonight,” she said.

At that exact moment, the fruit machine behind her started making celebratory noises.

Sharon gasped.

Jenny laughed.

And I began to suspect the evening would be educational.

Just not in the way Sharon expected.

Sharon Believes Immediately

The first thing Madame Celestia did was close her eyes and breathe deeply.

Apparently, this allowed her to “connect with the energies in the room.”

Personally, I connected with the smell of lager and vinegar from the kitchen.

After a long, dramatic pause, she began.

“I sense someone here has recently lost something important.”

Sharon gasped.

“My hairbrush!”

Karen stared at her.

“You lost that six months ago.”

“Yes, but it was emotional.”

Madame Celestia nodded wisely, clearly accustomed to people making their own conclusions.

“You must trust your intuition,” she said mysteriously.

Sharon nodded like someone attending a motivational seminar run by ghosts.

Next, the psychic looked around the room again.

“There is someone here who feels they are standing at a crossroads in life.”

Karen leaned forward immediately.

“That’s me,” she said.

“Career crossroads or emotional crossroads?”

Madame Celestia smiled gently.

“Possibly both.”

Karen nodded as if this were incredibly profound.

I leaned towards Jenny.

“That describes roughly ninety per cent of adults,” I whispered.

Jenny nearly choked on her wine.

Meanwhile, Sharon had begun writing notes on her phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Tracking the predictions,” she said seriously.

“Obviously.”

Of course she was.

At that point, I realised something important.

This evening was going to be long.

Karen Takes It Very Seriously

Karen was the next volunteer for a reading.

Now, Karen is normally a sensible woman.

However, something about dim lighting and mystical language had clearly activated a different personality.

She sat opposite Madame Celestia with the intensity of someone about to negotiate world peace.

The psychic shuffled tarot cards dramatically before laying them out on the table.

Karen leaned forward.

“What do you see?”

Madame Celestia studied the cards thoughtfully.

“I see change.”

Karen nodded slowly.

“I knew it.”

Then the psychic turned another card.

“There is also a journey.”

“Travel?” Karen asked eagerly.

“Possibly physical. Possibly emotional.”

Karen wrote that down.

I whispered to Jenny.

“Technically, every journey is emotional if you think about it.”

Jenny nodded.

“Especially the bus home after tequila.”

Meanwhile, Karen had moved on to deeper questions.

“What about romance?”

Madame Celestia paused for effect.

“I sense someone entering your life.”

Sharon gasped again.

Karen looked thrilled.

I leaned over.

“Statistically speaking, that could just be the bartender,” I whispered.

Jenny laughed so hard she had to leave the room for a minute.

But Karen remained completely invested.

By the time her reading finished, she had a page of notes and an expression suggesting she might change careers by Monday.

Sharon turned to me.

“Your turn.”

Apparently, my future was next.

Sue Gets Her Reading

I sat down opposite Madame Celestia with the calm acceptance of someone who knows this will either be ridiculous or strangely accurate.

Possibly both.

She studied me carefully before closing her eyes again.

“I sense strong independent energy around you.”

I nodded politely.

“That’s probably caffeine.”

She ignored that and continued.

“You are someone who observes the world deeply.”

Sharon whispered loudly behind me.

“That’s true.”

Madame Celestia leaned forward.

“There is also a man around you.”

Karen gasped.

Jenny returned from the bar just in time to hear this and raised an eyebrow.

Now, technically speaking, that statement could apply to almost anyone.

But I decided to test the situation.

“Does he live in a drawer?” I asked.

The psychic opened one eye.

Sharon nearly fell off her chair laughing.

Madame Celestia recovered admirably.

“This man supports you emotionally.”

I considered that carefully.

“Does he hum occasionally?”

Jenny spat her wine out.

But the psychic continued bravely.

“You will soon experience unexpected excitement.”

Now that part concerned me slightly.

Because, historically speaking, excitement in my life usually involved Sharon.

And Sharon was currently nodding enthusiastically like someone whose horoscope had just promised adventure.

Madame Celestia finished by turning one final tarot card.

“The spirits say you should trust your instincts.”

I smiled.

“My instincts told me to stay home tonight.”

Sharon clapped.

Apparently, the spirits had a sense of humour.

Sharon Asks The Question

After my reading, Sharon immediately volunteered.

This was the moment everyone in the room feared.

Because Sharon does not ask gentle questions.

She asks questions that make strangers reconsider their career choices.

Madame Celestia prepared the cards again.

Sharon leaned forward.

“I have one important question.”

The room fell quiet.

“Does my ex regret leaving me?”

Madame Celestia paused for a very long time.

The kind of pause that suggests someone is either consulting spirits or desperately choosing their words.

I leaned towards Jenny.

“She’s checking the spirit world’s customer service department.”

Jenny covered her mouth to stop laughing.

Finally, the psychic spoke.

“The past is complicated.”

Sharon nodded dramatically.

“But the future holds new opportunities.”

Sharon wrote that down.

Karen whispered to me.

“That’s actually good advice.”

“True,” I said.

“But it’s also what every motivational poster in history says.”

Still, Sharon looked satisfied.

And the psychic looked relieved that the question had not involved anything worse.

Because with Sharon…

That possibility always exists.

The Slightly Creepy Prediction

Just as the evening seemed to be winding down, Madame Celestia suddenly looked at me again.

“I sense something else,” she said quietly.

The room went still.

“There is a small dog connected to you.”

Sharon gasped.

Karen stared.

Jenny raised her eyebrows.

“Benji,” Sharon whispered dramatically.

I blinked.

That was actually correct.

The psychic continued.

“This dog brings comfort and chaos.”

“That is extremely accurate,” I admitted.

“And I also see… travel near water.”

Sharon turned slowly towards me.

“The seaside trip,” she whispered.

Karen nodded.

Jenny looked impressed.

Now I’ll admit something.

For a brief moment…

I was slightly unsettled.

Because predicting Benji and the seaside trip was either very lucky or mildly spooky.

Sharon leaned across the table.

“SEE?” she whispered triumphantly.

But I decided to stay rational.

After all, half the country owns dogs, and the other half occasionally goes to the seaside.

Still…

It was an impressive guess.

Madame Celestia smiled mysteriously.

“The spirits are strong tonight.”

The fruit machine behind her dinged again.

Which, frankly, felt like a mixed signal.

Home Again With Dan

Eventually, the evening ended the way all Sharon-led evenings do… slightly louder than necessary and with at least three different versions of “we should definitely do this again.”

We spilled out of the pub into the cold night air.

Sharon was still convinced she’d had a spiritual awakening.

Karen was re-evaluating her entire life plan based on a laminated tarot card.

Jenny just wanted chips.

And me?

Well, I was somewhere between amused, sceptical, and mildly concerned that the psychic might have accidentally been right about one or two things.

Which I refused to unpack emotionally at that time.

Obviously.

By the time I got home, I was tired, slightly tipsy, and still faintly smelling of incense and poor decisions.

Benji greeted me at the door like I’d been missing for several years.

There was immediate tail wagging. Mild judgement. A sniff inspection that felt unnecessary but thorough.

“Yes, I went out,” I told him.

“No, I didn’t join a cult.”

He remained unconvinced.

The flat was quiet.

Too quiet.

Which was always suspicious.

I stepped into the living room and immediately stopped.

One cushion had been absolutely destroyed.

There was fluff.

Everywhere.

It looked like a small, aggressive cloud had exploded.

Benji avoided eye contact.

Of course he did.

And then I saw Dan.

On the floor.

Just… lying there.

Like he’d had enough of this household and made a silent protest.

I stared at him for a moment.

Then back at Benji.

Then back at Dan.

“Was this you?” I asked.

Benji blinked.

Innocent.

Suspiciously innocent.

I walked over, picked Dan up, and placed him back on the dresser where he belonged.

“Right,” I said, brushing imaginary dust off him.

“Let’s all behave ourselves.”

Dan hummed faintly.

Which, frankly, felt like judgement.

I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down, kicking off my shoes with the grace of someone who no longer cared about coordination.

“Apparently,” I said out loud, “there’s a strong male presence in my life.”

I glanced over at Dan.

Pause.

“Well,” I said thoughtfully, “if that’s the case…”

Another sip of wine.

“…perhaps it’s time he got busy doing what he’s actually good at.”

Dan hummed faintly.

Efficient. Reliable. Zero emotional confusion.

Honestly, the man has a skillset.

I took another sip and thought back to the night.

The candles.

The cards.

The dramatic pauses.

The very confident statements that could apply to literally anyone with a pulse.

“You’re standing at a crossroads.”

Yes.

Aren’t we all, Celestia?

Usually between wine and bad decisions.

And yet…

The dog thing.

The seaside.

That part lingered slightly.

Annoyingly.

I didn’t like it when vague nonsense started making sense.

It felt like a trap.

My phone buzzed.

The group chat.

Sharon:

“I’ve just ordered a tarot deck.”

Of course she had.

Karen:

“I think I’m going to embrace change.”

Jenny:

“Who’s got paracetamol?”

I muted the chat.

Self-preservation.

I leaned back into the sofa.

Benji curled up beside me like nothing criminal had happened.

Dan sat quietly on the dresser.

The flat settled.

Calm.

Normal.

Predictable.

I glanced over at Dan.

Pause.

“Strong male energy,” I muttered.

“Finally. Something in this house that delivers.”

Dan hummed.

“Well,” I said finally.

“If this is the strong male energy…”

I raised my glass slightly in Dan’s direction.

“…I could do worse.”

Benji snored.

And just like that, balance was restored.

Although next time…

I’m absolutely asking for lottery numbers.

I’m not stupid.