I thought Rebecca was my friend. I trusted her with my innermost secrets. But she insidiously took over my friendship circle, my home and my finances. It's terrifyingly easy to be duped by another woman - don't make my mistake
Pulling up at the beauty clinic, my credit card was burning a hole in my pocket. That day's treatments included lip filler and Botox and would set me back a small fortune.
But it wasn't me having them, it was the woman I'd been happily bankrolling for a year.
She wasn't a friend or a family member or even a work contact. She was, in fact, my psychic.
For a couple of costly years in my early 30s, I fell completely under Rebecca's spell. To the extent that I spent in the region of £5,000 on both her readings and funding her lavish lifestyle.
Looking back, I cringe at how easily she inveigled her way into my life, making me subservient in my own home and turning me into her personal piggy bank. Having bought her various sob stories, I believed I was helping someone down on their luck. I couldn't have been more wrong.
As a 30-something TV executive used to managing hundreds of people and budgets in the millions, I should have known better than to be taken in like this.
When I read about the rise of spirituality in younger generations, I shuddered at the memory of how Rebecca played me like a fiddle.
According to a recent survey, 65 per cent of Gen Z and 55 per cent of millennials identify as very or fairly spiritual – compared with 41 per cent of Gen X and 36 per cent of baby boomers. On TikTok, #psychic has racked up roughly 10billion views and #tarot has had 79billion views.
For a couple of costly years in my early 30s, I fell completely under my psychic Rebecca's spell, says Samantha Brick
Everyone from Jennifer Aniston to Oprah Winfrey has publicly talked about psychics being part of their spiritual toolkit. But I am only too happy to be a voice of caution.
When I hear Gen Z loved ones raving about this tarot reader or that 'moonologist' (an expert in the influence of the lunar cycle) I warn them this is an unregulated world that's open to abuse.
Psychics like Rebecca target successful, stressed career women like me with an almost surgical precision.
Having moved from my working-class family home in the Midlands to London in my early 20s, I loved my job as an executive producer at a TV station. But it was a cut-throat world where you watched your back and didn't share confidences.
I might have had a Victorian three-bedroom cottage near the Thames in Kew, a vintage Mercedes soft-top and a dressing room full of beautiful clothes, but my emotional life was in turmoil.
I had recently divorced and I was scared about my future.
My family was far away and not feeling able to confide in colleagues or even friends – I didn't want to shatter my carefully crafted image of a woman at the top of her game – I was an easy target.
When a colleague suggested I meet Rebecca, her psychic friend, I agreed, thinking she could be the help I needed. After all, my colleague held a well-paid corporate position in the publishing industry and was hardly gullible.
This is how expensive psychics such as Rebecca build their affluent client base – through word-of-mouth recommendations from one professional woman to another.
Our first meeting was in my private members' club in central London. I was no stranger to psychic readings, having dabbled previously, and was looking forward to hearing what she could tell me.
A decade older than me, Rebecca presented herself as a 'big sister' figure, appealing to my need for female companionship. She claimed she had a spirit guide who would impart information to her from the other side.
I now wonder if she'd researched my whole life history beforehand.
She picked up on lots of details about me, including that I was conscious about my figure (then again, what woman isn't?), the fact I'd recently lost love – she assured me there was someone better out there – and that my career would continue to flourish.
My bruised heart well and truly bolstered, I was keen to see Rebecca again.
From then on I confided in her as if she were a therapist rather than a psychic. It didn't occur to me to worry about placing my delicate emotions in the hands of a stranger employed in an unregulated industry. Over the following months a pattern formed. Rebecca lived out of town but whenever she was due in London, she'd call a few days beforehand, ostensibly asking if I wanted to catch up. Each time she would throw little titbits into the conversation about something that 'might' happen for me.
I confided in her as if she were a therapist rather than a psychic. It didn't occur to me to worry about placing my delicate emotions in the hands of a stranger
The smallest coincidence was used by her to prove she was correct every time. When her prediction that I'd receive an unexpected work offer to go to New York came true, I was hooked.
Soon the calls came on a daily basis, asking after my wellbeing, before swiftly reverting to pleas for my help to boost her client roster via my access to wealthy individuals – which I did.
She'd give me the lowdown on what kind of homes they lived in, and was funny – and brutal – about their wild children and questionable parenting skills. She'd even have the temerity to moan about only being offered supermarket brand fizz.
It never once occurred to me that she was doubtless betraying my confidence, too.
While I'd paid £100 for my initial reading, before long she'd stopped charging me. I'd have to press the notes into her hand. Clearly this was all part of her plan. After all, how could I think she was on the make if she wasn't officially charging me? But she made her money in other ways. A year later, she phoned to ask if she could stay at mine. She was seeing a client late – unavoidable, apparently – and would miss her last train home. I agreed, not thinking to ask why she couldn't stay in a hotel.
Before I knew it, she was staying at mine every time she came to London – even doing readings in my living room. Her requests for alcohol and cigarettes swiftly followed. She'd 'forget' to buy any for herself.
She never cooked, shopped or put her hand in her pocket. If we ate out, I would foot the bill. I'm a generous person by nature; it's only now that I can see my kindness was abused.
I was told she had family members to support, with disabilities fleetingly referred to. I felt sorry for her. As she spent more time among the famous clientele I had provided, she told me she needed the tweakments they had to fit in. Might I loan her the funds to pay for it?
Someone else might have seen the warning signs. But I naively agreed not only to foot the bill for Botox and fillers – a good few hundred pounds – but to ferry her to the clinic. In all, I spent thousands on Rebecca.
I first started to doubt her intentions when I observed her advising my friend. As usual the psychic reading took place in my home and as my friend, vulnerable after a miscarriage, began to cry, I caught Rebecca turning away and rolling her eyes. Surely she wasn't some play-actor trotting out one line after another?
It took a few more months before the veil finally lifted. Despite painting herself as a struggling businesswoman, I discovered she had an associate who ran her financial affairs. Some online sleuthing revealed that far from being on the breadline, she was well off.
I cut all ties immediately, deeply hurt that this apparently ever-so-'umble, hard-up woman was quite the opposite.
One friend tried to build bridges by inviting Rebecca and me to the same red-carpet event. When I saw her there, I walked out. I knew if I gave her even an inch, she would be back in my spare bedroom in the blink of an eye.
I did ask to be reimbursed for the numerous cosmetic tweakments, but to no avail. I looked into pursuing it in the small claims court but another online search revealed she had no assets in her own name. So I cut my losses.
Today, I'm very careful about who I welcome into my life – and I caution others to do the same. I can assure you I'm far from the only successful woman to have fallen prey to a psychic like Rebecca. And trust me, we're none of us fools.
Rebecca's name has been changed.
