On an autumn afternoon in 2019, Ben Goldsmith sat in an armchair at a Dutch lady’s home in Fulham, southwest London. Beside him stood a table with a wooden tray covered in crystals and stones. The lady, whom we’ll call Eleanor, took the seat opposite him, picked up a crystal in each hand and closed her eyes. “There’s a girl,” she said. “My, she’s a strong character, and she has been very eager to contact you. She wants you to know that she’s sorry. I presume she is your daughter?”
