This book is a work of fiction, but its setting is real: Glastonbury is an ancient market town that floats on the Somerset Levels in southwest England. It has a remarkable history and an extraordinary atmosphere. You may be familiar with it from the musical festival of the same name or from its diverse spiritual associations. In any case, it is home to a community that proudly and regularly sticks two fingers up at mainstream Merry Old England. For more than thirteen centuries, Glastonbury has sheltered the pilgrims, eccentrics, radicals, preachers, nonconformists, libertines, intellectuals, iconoclasts, hippies, hermits, and homeless people who have been fortunate enough to reach it. It has offered many souls protection and liberation from a world that can be cruel to those who are different or think too freely. It's a sort of utopia with gift shops. Since the first stones were laid in the abbey and indulgences sold to pilgrims both rich and poor, it has also been home to those who take advantage of and prosper from the hopes and beliefs of others. The monks sold miraculous cures and the promise of eternal life in the heavens above. Today's gurus and prophets sell eternal youth and wellbeing through various nostrums and lifestyle enhancements. I have enjoyed writing about this aspect of Glastonbury, having a tilt at the windmills that grind out hollow promises and costly but useless therapies. Primarily, though, this is a light-hearted tale of murder and villainy. And the need for friends, especially when you get old. And love, which can sometimes provide all the wellbeing you really need, for free. It is set in the year 1996, which was 1417 in the Islamic calendar, 2540 to the Buddhists, The Year of The Rat to the Chinese, and Year 25 to Mrs Entwhistle and the People of the Golden Dawn at 14 Railway Mews, Glastonbury. And it all kicks off when an old lady takes the trip of a lifetime.
