With four flatmates huddled in one bed together out of fear one particularly spooky night, the calmest among us informed us the visitor was her recently deceased dad.
He would pop up beside her in lecture theatres and rattle her coathangers in the middle of the night.
She assured us there was nothing to be scared of. So we took to breezily calling out "Hello, Robert" when we felt him around, and eventually his visits became few and far between. Still, it was a little disconcerting.
So back to Cruickshank. Yes, he did talk to dead people. And frowned at them, shushed them, paused while he listened to them and told one he had a "potty mouth".
Had I not been surrounded by rapt looking women (and the occasional man), I probably would have got the giggles.
The main purpose of the event, a charity fundraiser for Rotorua Hospice, was for Cruickshank to promote his latest book rather than give readings. But you could tell most of the sellout crowd of 300 were just waiting to be blown away by something inexplicable.
Cruickshank (a normal Kiwi bloke who hunts and fishes, so he told us) obliged briefly - with one spirit passing on to his wife and two daughters in the audience that he loved them and he was fine.
A young woman in front of me had been wiping away tears the whole evening.
I was heartbroken by her before she spoke - even more so when she asked about the father of her child, who had died recently.
As if on cue, his spirit arrived on stage and said sorry to the woman. There were plenty of tears in the room as he passed on messages to her, and encouraged her to let go of her anger and move on.
My conclusion? Still on the fence. Cruickshank stressed during his talk he had nothing to prove to anyone and you got the impression he couldn't care less what I thought.
However, if it is all one big act, the guy should win an Oscar.
But you know what I realised? It doesn't really matter if it's all true or if it's a total crock.
Sure, there are probably dodgy mediums and psychics out there that exploit vulnerable people - as in any field. But the people in that room that received "messages" from their loved ones were clearly comforted.
Maybe it will change their lives or help them to move forward in some way and that's surely worth the price of the ticket.
As for me, no messages. I guess Nana and Pop were too busy playing heavenly mahjong.
Or maybe they just figured I was doing okay without them. I like to think it was both.
