Saturday July 31st
Writing about Rae, who was a brilliant teacher, yesterday, reminded me that I asked her and Bebe, another actress friend, to come to Australia and build a series of workshops for all the acting talent there. It was a great success and only happened because of the generosity of my boss, Kerry Packer. At the end of one six week-long seminar, as Rae was packing to leave to return to Los Angeles, she gave me a gift. ‘I want you to see this psychic’ she said, handing me a name and address. ‘It is all paid for and she in expecting you in the morning.’
Dressed for work in a summer suit and high heels, brief case in hand, I arrived early the following morning at a small house in Sydney and, hand on the gate, I prepared to enter the garden. The front door opened; a tall handsome woman stood on the step. ‘Stop’ she said, ‘come no further’. She walked towards me and looked me full in the face and went on to ask me to leave my briefcase, jacket and shoes in the garden. If she could have she would have stripped me naked, so distressed was she about my dark energy field. I followed her into the house and entered her practice room. A massage table in the centre and the tallest crystals I had ever seen in each corner. A vase of soft pink roses sat in the window. ‘Shall I take my clothes off?’ I asked, looking at the table. Without speaking she handed me a robe and I got undressed. She took the clothes away. Time passed in silence as she sat with me, occasionally walking around me but never speaking.
My clothes were eventually returned and we went to sit in the garden. She told me softly that I was almost dead, that work had destroyed my inner life, and it was time for some emergency healing. She gave me instructions about how to start on this healing process, including the following: ‘You are to leave now and call one friend, a man. You will ask him to come to your home tonight and make love to you. Tell him it is an emergency and you need help.’ I stared at her in amazement. She showed me the gate and said goodbye, leaving me to walk to my car. I opened the door, got in, and burst into tears. I must have sat there sobbing for an hour before I called my office and told them I was not coming in that day.
Once home I called a friend who I knew was married but whose wife was on a six-month sabbatical in England. We liked each other enormously but because he was married, never went close to any intimacy. I explained what had just happened and asked if he would be willing, just once, to come and have dinner, spend the night with me, and leave after breakfast. The girls were in America for Spring Break, the house empty. No-one would ever know, this was just for one night, and a favor for a friend in distress.
‘What time shall I be there’ he said his voice full of amusement and kindness. He arrived arms full of flowers, we ate, made love, slept and said goodbye the following morning. It was never repeated and never spoken of again but some almost dead part of myself, the part that craves closeness, love and intimacy, had been saved. I might come alive again after all.
