The Tantric sex class had become quite crucial to my success, especially after receiving the print out from the phone company. By the time they’d taken their percentage of the callers’ phone charges, I’d only made half of the money I was expecting. Major let down. I needed to boost my hourly rate and my market research told me the best way to do that was to offer one-on-ones. Besides, it would be even more of a buzz meeting people face to face, and what better place to do it than The Rowan Tree?

When I arrived at the shop, there were four people there. Trish had done quite well, considering. I stood next to the old lady who was wearing navy jogging bottoms, trainers, and tan tights. There was a gothic looking couple in matching bovver boots, blue-black hair, and grunge clothes, and a tall, Danish looking, blond guy who was hanging up his fleece.

“Good morning, everyone, and thank you for coming.” We all turned as Irene waddled in. She was wearing a bright green Lycra suit, her frizzy, black hair was tied back tight in a bun, and her ruddy cheeks were flushed with excitement.

“It’s super sprout,” I thought.

“Rupert’s just getting everything ready. Now if you’d like to follow me, we’ll introduce everyone upstairs.”

“This is the exercise class isn’t it? I’m really hoping it will help ease my back,” old Mrs. Appleton whispered to me as we followed Irene’s huge green bottom up the threadbare stairs.

An idea struck me. “I’m not sure, but whatever it is I think it’ll loosen you up alright.” I needed the old lady in the class if my plan was to work.

We filed into a studio room on the second floor where the smell of overripe strawberries wafted over us from an incense stick placed on a radiator. Some kind of twanging music played softly in the background. One side of the wall was covered in mirrors, and I nearly walked straight back out when I saw Rupert in a matching sprout suit bending over a CD player, except Rupert looked more like a bearded grasshopper in his.

“Cooee, I’ve bought them up.” Irene beamed warmly at us, her thighs rubbing together as she waddled over to Rupert to pat him on the shoulder. “Now would everyone like to take a mat and find their own personal space.”

I decided now would be a good time to make my move. I sauntered over to Irene and touched her lightly on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, but I was just wondering before we start, could you ask if someone here has a bad back and a friend who’s died recently?”

Irene spun around, blinking rapidly at me. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well, I’m psychic you see, and I get very affected by people’s feelings. Someone’s feeling hurt and confused, and it’s going to be hard for me to concentrate if—”

“Of course. You must be Amber. Trish has told me all about you, it’s so lovely to meet you.” She squeezed my hand, then nudged Rupert. “Wriggles, this is the girl Trish was telling us about.”

Rupert’s craggy face broke into a broad smile under his beard, revealing veneered white teeth. “Och aye, pleased to meet ye, erm…”

“Amber. Delighted to meet you too Rupert.” I tried to avoid staring at his dazzling teeth. “Irene, I wonder, could you ask the class, I’m getting a terrible headache.”

“Oh, of course.” She clapped her podgy hands together. “Attention, attention everyone!”

The group stopped dragging their mats across the polished floorboards.

“Has anyone got a bad back?”

There was a second or two of silence before Mrs. Appleton raised a shaky hand. “Em, I’ve got arthritis in my back.”

“Aha. Good. Could you come here a minute, dear?” Mrs. Appleton glanced around nervously and approached.

“Sorry, I’m a little confused…,” the old lady began.

Irene gave me a knowing wink and whispered, “Hurt and confused, just like you said.” She turned back to Mrs. Appleton, placing a chubby hand on her shoulder. “Have you lost a friend recently, my dear?”

“Well yes, actually I have. But what has that got to do with…”

“Mrs. Appleton, I wonder if you’d mind sitting at the opposite end of the studio to Amber here, she’s psychic and is picking up your vibrations.”

Mrs. Appleton shook her head. “Good gracious, I’m terribly sorry. I’m not sure I’ve come to the right place actually. Is this the Tantric class for arthritis?”

“Amongst other things, pet.” Rupert’s too perfect smile appeared again. “Now, let’s put ye over here.” He led her back to her mat.

“Thanks Irene.” I smiled gratefully and returned to grab a mat from the remaining pile.

It was a calculated gamble that someone Mrs. Appleton’s age would have lost a friend recently, and of course I knew about the arthritis, so now I’d convinced Rupert and Irene I was psychic. I shouldn’t have any trouble getting them to hire out a room to me.

“Now everyone.” Irene clapped her hands again. “First of all, I would like to say thank you for coming to experience a ‘Taste of the Tantric‘.” She flexed her fingers in the air to express the quote marks. “Now before we get to know each of you, more,” she gave Rupert a look, “intimately, I’d like to tell you a little about what Tantra means for us. For Rupert and me, well, it seemed a natural progression for our incredible love life.”

I looked around the class and was amazed to see people’s expressions were quite serious. Even Mrs. Appleton had her head on one side and an eyebrow cocked, reminding me somewhat of Miss Marple on one of her fact-finding missions.

“Thanks to Tantra,” Irene went on joyously, “Rupert can keep his ‘wand of light’,” She flexed her fingers again, “thrusting for hours, even days sometimes.”

Rupert thrust his pelvis a couple of times as if to prove it.

“Aye, and I honoured Irene’s ‘Yongi’ multiple times las’ night, didinna, darlin’”

“Rupert is referring to my ‘sacred space’.” Irene enunciated the words and once more did the quote marks in the air. She was driving me nuts. She looked at Rupert adoringly. “Positions, Rupert?”

“Aye, positions. Now today, for some truly exquisite rumpy-pumpy,” Rupert began to thrust his pelvis a couple more times, “we’re gonna learn aboot the ‘pounding on the spot’, ‘frog fashion’, and the ‘elephant posture’.”

“Don’t forget the splitting of the bamboo, Wriggles,” Irene added.

“Ooch, aye, and the, sometimes painful for us gentlemen, splitting of the bamboo.” Rupert beamed.

“S’cuse me but is it true that Tantra is more difficult to perform with piercings?” asked the Goth bloke, who had so many I thought he must jingle when he walked.

“Well, it can make it more difficult for the man to prevent ‘releasing his cosmic stream’.” Irene quoted.

“In other words, laddie, you might pop the bubbly when you’re nay supposed te,” Rupert added.

The Goth girl tittered and ran a hand through her long greasy hair while her boyfriend looked bemused.

“Now before we get started on the history of Tantra, I have an ice breaker,” said Irene. I cringed. “I’d like to go round with everyone’s names and what animal we would be and why. For example, I would be a tiger as I’m proud and strong. Rrrrrr.” Irene clawed the air and laughed. “Remember, it’s all about getting in touch with your inner child, let’s have fun everyone.”

I was caught in some freakish stage show and was starting to have serious doubts about my choice of location as an in-house psychic.

“Let’s start with you, dear.” Irene pointed at Mrs. Appleton. “What animal would you be and why?”

“A…a sheep?” Mrs. Appleton’s voice quavered.

“Good, now why would you be a sheep?”

“Urm…because I’ve got thin legs and wear a lot of wooly jumpers.” Mrs. Appleton shrugged.

I swallowed and pressed my fingernails into the palms of my hand.

“Now, Amber, what would you be?”

I blushed, but had to maintain my psychic façade. “I would definitely be a cat, Irene,” I kept my voice steady, “because I’m intuitive and independent.”

“Purrrrrrfect answer, dear.” Irene clapped her hands together and looked at Rupert. “You look rather supple too–just like a feline, doesn’t she, Wriggles?”

Rupert opened his mouth as if to say something, but seemed to think better of it and just smiled as his eyes roamed over my black leotard. I felt sick.

Irene clapped her hands together and turned to the tall, blond Danish bloke. “How about you, Yan?”

“I am being called und dog.” He spoke hesitantly. His deep Nordic accent gave him a certain appeal, and I admired his muscular physique encased in a tight fitting white t-shirt.

“And why would you be a dog, Yan?” Irene spoke slowly and loudly, as if he was deaf and stupid rather than foreign.

“My girlfriend call me und Great Dane.”

Irene’s eyebrows shot up and the corner of her mouth twitched. “Well, woof woof, eh, Rupert?” She nudged him, and he thrust his pelvis with a chuckle.

Even though the ice breakers left me cringing, worse was to happen. Rupert asked for two volunteers from the class. I studied my blue rubber mat.

“Och, dinna be shy, the Tantra is all aboot losing your inhibitions,” he boomed. “Right, well it looks like we’ll just have to help ourselves, eh, Irene?”

“Oo, yes, Wriggles. Now, Amber, with your cat-like intuition you’ll be a natural, so come up here, and Yan, can you come to the front too please? Now, you two are going to demonstrate to the rest of the class the elephant posture.”

The heat rushed to my cheeks as I shuffled towards Irene. I glanced sideways to see Yan marching stiffly to the front. At least he was good looking, I thought. I’d just have to imagine it was Harvey rather than a stranger. I moved closer to Yan.

“Och, Amber, lass, you’re with me and Yan’s with Irene.” Rupert put his hand on my shoulder and my mouth went dry as Irene, preening and primping, led Yan to the right.

            I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. Rupert’s veneered smile appeared under his moustache and I tried not to flinch. The Goth couple were staring at me and Mrs. Appleton had a quizzical expression on her face. I was totally trapped.

Rupert squeezed my shoulder, “First, I need you to place your hand just above me crotch. Not touching, mind. Just hovering before ye…move in for the trunk if you see what I mean.”

            I gulped, trying not to let the terror and disgust show on my face. But there was nothing for it.