Guns in the Gallery

The central space was large and, though quite a lot of light came through the circular, spoked smoke vent at the crown of the structure, Chervil switched on the lights. Clearly the back-to-nature experience included electricity.

It also included a large wood-burning stove in the central area, perfectly appointed bathroom with toilet, and a fully equipped kitchen featuring a state-of-the-art gas cooker. Everything was so new and top of the range that Carole and Jude wouldn’t have been surprised to see an Aga in there. On the walls hung framed pictures of various Buddhas.

‘They won’t be exactly slumming, will they?’ said Jude.

‘Certainly not. What we’re offering here at Walden is pampering rather than slumming.’

‘Walden?’ echoed Jude.

‘That’s Dad’s input. From something he read, I forget what it was.’

‘Walden, or Life in the Woods,’ said Carole, with something of the tone of a school swot, ‘was the name of the book written by Henry David Thoreau, chronicling the two years of his life he spent practising self-sufficiency and simple living in a cottage near Walden Pond.’

‘Gosh,’ said Jude. ‘How on earth do you know all that?’

‘I found it on Wikipedia,’ admitted a somewhat shamefaced Carole. ‘There was a clue in The Times crossword to which the answer had to be “walken” or “walden”. “Walken” didn’t make sense, so I googled “walden”. Hence my exhaustive knowledge of Henry David Thoreau.’

‘Well, that would figure,’ said Chervil. ‘That must be why Dad chose the name: “simple living”.’

Jude looked around the lavish interior of the yurt and refrained from commenting on the irony of those last two words. ‘So if I were to do therapy sessions, how would it work? Would I come and visit the people who required them in their individual yurts?’

‘Oh no,’ said Chervil. ‘We have a special place where we’d do the therapy sessions.’ Keeping silent to maintain the drama of her revelation, she let them out and along a path to the largest yurt of the lot. Opening the door, she announced with a flourish, ‘This is the Spa and Treatment Area.’

Her coup de théâtre, seen through a short passage, was a complete state-of-the art gym in a circular space smaller than the exterior circumference of the yurt. It was floored with gleaming white ceramic tiles. Off this area, doors led to other rooms labelled ‘Plunge Pool’, ‘Hot Tub’, ‘Steam Room’ and ‘Sauna’. Chervil pointed to three doors without signs on them. ‘Those’ll be the treatment rooms.’

She opened one to reveal a pleasant space containing an electrically adjustable massage table and other equipment. Once again, everything was top of the range and brand new. ‘Would you be able to work somewhere like this?’

‘Looks fine,’ said Jude.

‘In our preliminary brochures we’re offering “a range of alternative therapies”.’

‘Like what?’

‘Reiki, Hatha yoga, homeopathy, acupuncture, reflexology, bach flower remedies.’

‘I don’t do any of those.’

‘Oh?’ Chervil Whittaker sounded severely disappointed. ‘Do you do hot stone massage?’

‘No.’

‘Why? Don’t you believe in any of them?’

‘No. I’ve tried some of them and I have friends who use them very successfully, but I’m not qualified in any of them.’

‘Oh? Does that matter?’ Chervil’s priorities were evidently different from Jude’s. She just wanted a range of therapies available for her potential customers, and didn’t seem too bothered by their practitioners’ level of competence.

‘I think it does a bit,’ Jude replied.

‘So what therapies do you do?’ the girl asked.

This was a question to which Carole had often wanted an answer, but she now knew her neighbour too well to ask it. How convenient that Chervil had done the job for her. She awaited the reply attentively.

‘I’m a healer,’ said Jude. ‘I channel energy.’

Well, what on earth does that mean, thought Carole, who had been hoping for more specifics.

But the answer appealed to Chervil Whittaker’s marketing instincts. ‘I like that,’ she said. ‘“Healing . . . Energy-channelling”. They’d look really good in the brochure. What does it involve, Jude?’

‘A mixture of techniques which I’ve worked out over the years.’

‘Massage?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Laying on of hands?’

‘In a way.’

‘Wow!’ The girl was getting very excited. ‘We could call it “Total Healing”. Lots of people would go for that.’

‘What kind of people?’ asked Carole. It was another question to which, as a natural sceptic in such matters, she had wanted an answer for a long time.

‘Well, people who feel kind of that they’ve got something wrong with them, but they don’t know what it is, so they’d like to have some kind of therapy that covers everything.’

‘“One size fits all”?’ Jude suggested.

‘Exactly that!’ Chervil Whittaker was ecstatic now. ‘This could be a real winner. Now, how would you rather be paid? Per session, or would you like us to put you on a retainer?’

‘I’m sorry, but I haven’t said that I’ll do it yet.’

‘But surely you will?’ Something in Jude’s face gave the girl pause. ‘Why not? Aren’t the facilities up to scratch?’