by Haley Hill
He looked at me and frowned. ‘Sounds ominous. What sort of fun?’
‘Something new,’ I said.
His eyes widened. ‘If there are surgical gloves and paddle whips involved, then it’ll have to be a “no”.’
I laughed. ‘It’s more of a cultural experience.’
‘The Burning Man? Aren’t we a bit old to be dropping pills and dancing with our tops off?’
I laughed. ‘It’s in Texas.’
He smiled. ‘Rodeo?’
I shook my head.
‘I’ll need more details before I can commit.’
I took a gulp of wine and then leaned over and pulled the brochure from my file.
He glanced at the cover and then back at me. ‘What is this?’
‘Read it,’ I said.
‘“Enhance your intimacy,”’ he read out, then turned to me. ‘You said no paddle whips.’
‘Read on,’ I said, nodding back down at the brochure.
He continued. ‘“Strengthen your bond. Group counselling sessions.”’ He pushed the brochure away. ‘No fucking way are we doing that.’
I topped up his wine. ‘Come on. Mandi booked us in. We should give a shot.’
He pointed back to the brochure. ‘It says for distressed couples, or marriages in crisis.’
I snatched it off him. ‘Yes, but look here, it also says for couples who want to take their relationship to the next level.’
‘Sounds like some saggy couple pushing tantric sex.’ He flipped through the brochure to the end. ‘“Love is like a bonsai tree, it needs constant care and attention.” Seriously, Ellie?’
I glared at him.
He glared back.
‘We have to go,’ I said. ‘The future of humanity is at stake.’
He raised his eyebrows.
‘If you don’t, then I’ll stalk you at your new office, ordering lattes on an iPad while acting up like a needy wife.’
He narrowed his eyes, then sighed. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll come.’ He rolled up the brochure and pretended to spank me on the bottom. ‘But you owe me, Mrs Rigby. Big time.’
Chapter 13
By 11 a.m. on Saturday morning, Nick and I were sat cross-legged in a tepee in Texas. The founder of the retreat, a thin lady named Elspeth Kennedy, was standing before us. She was wearing an embroidered kaftan and dangly earrings which tinkled every time she moved, like tiny wind chimes. She addressed us along with the three other couples in the group.
‘Welcome,’ she said, clasping her hands together. ‘Welcome, all.’ She then opened her arms to the group. ‘Before we begin I would like to explain the rules.’ She paused to take a breath. ‘During your stay there will be no communication with the outside world. No phones, no iPads, no laptops. No electronic devices whatsoever. There will be no Instagram, no Twitter, no Facebook and no texts. While you are here, you will reserve all your attention for each other. You will remind your bodies how to watch and how to listen. You will learn how to engage and how to connect.’ She handed around a basket. ‘Place your devices in here, please. They will be locked in our safe.’
Once she had collected our phones plus Nick’s iPad, Mac Air, Kindle and headphones, she continued. ‘Rule two: no alcohol. Rule three: no inter- or intra-couple sex. That means no sex with your partner or anyone else’s partner.’
One of the men raised his hand to question whether solo sex was permissible. Elspeth glared at him.
‘Sex or the expectation of sex,’ she said, still glaring at him, ‘disrupts the process. Alcohol clouds our senses. Rule four: follow all instructions. You have to trust the process to benefit from it. Does anyone have a problem with the rules?’
Nick went to put his hand up, then obviously thought better of it.
Elspeth clapped her hands. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘everyone, on your feet and into a circle.’
Nick smirked and seemed to deliberately take his time getting up.
Elspeth continued. ‘Now we’re going to go round the group introducing ourselves. Tell us your name and why you’re here.’ She squeezed my shoulder. ‘You start.’
Everyone turned to me and smiled, including Nick, who seemed quite amused by the situation.
‘My name is Ellie and I am here because…’ I paused to consider what to say.
‘Take a breath and be as honest as you can,’ Elspeth said, stroking my back.
‘Because I want to learn how to prevent divorce.’
Elspeth’s eyes widened momentarily and then she nodded.
‘Thank you for sharing,’ she said, then moved along. ‘Next,’ she said, poking Nick.
‘Hi, everyone,’ he said looking around, ‘I’m Nick. And I’m here because Ellie made me come.’
I could sense a fleeting frown from Elspeth but she tempered it and smiled instead. ‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘Very honest, Nick. Well done.’
Next was a gay couple, Malcolm and Doug. Malcolm explained that Doug had been unfaithful and they were trying to rebuild trust. Doug seemed desperately repentant. The third couple was Maureen and Walter, who’d asked about solo sex. They must have been in their late sixties. Maureen explained that since retirement Walter had developed an unhealthy obsession with dirty magazines. And that he had suddenly quite out of character begun flirting with her friends at the bridge club.
The fourth couple, Chloe and Tom, were newly married and starry-eyed. Their parents had paid for the retreat as a wedding present. Neither of them had any idea why they were there.
Elspeth continued. ‘Now hold hands, everyone.’
I held Nick’s and Walter’s hand. Walter winked at me.
Elspeth looked at us each in turn. ‘Two out of the four couples here today will divorce,’ she began. ‘Counselling won’t make you immune. Forty per cent of couples relapse within six months of the cessation of counselling or therapy.’ She nodded her head and her earrings jangled like percussion to her speech.
She pointed to me. ‘Are you happy?’ she asked.
I glanced sideways at Nick and then back at her. ‘Yes,’ I said.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘It is widely accepted that self-reported happiness, especially from women, is rarely reliable.’
She turned to Walter, who was sitting a little too close to Chloe. ‘Are you happy?’ she asked.
He looked sideways at Chloe, then back at Elspeth. ‘Yes,’ he answered.
Elspeth raised her eyebrows and stared at him.
He cleared his throat. ‘OK, most of the time, I am,’ he replied.
Elspeth smiled. ‘Excellent honesty,’ she said.
‘And you?’ She pointed to Malcolm.
Malcolm looked down. Doug reached across and squeezed his hand.
Malcolm shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not happy at all.’
Doug snatched back his hand and shuffled away from him.
Elspeth turned to Doug with a kind smile. ‘The truth is often painful to hear, isn’t it, Doug?’ Then she turned to the rest of us. ‘That’s why we lie, to protect others and ourselves.’
Doug and Malcolm glanced at each other; both of them had tears in their eyes.
Elspeth continued. ‘This weekend, we are going to find the truth in ourselves. Then in a blameless safe environment we are going to learn to communicate it to our partner.’ She nodded again and her earrings jangled. ‘But first you must adjust to your surroundings and enjoy some free time. This is a beautiful ranch and you must treasure your time here. Go for a swim in the lake, take a walk, there’s a buffet lunch laid out in the hall. You can do whatever you like. But you must stay in your couple. Please be back by 2 p.m.’
She then handed out some truth beads, which she instructed us to wear around our necks throughout our stay. After a few polite nods, the couples dispersed, although Walter lingered until Elspeth ushered him out.
Nick took my hand as we made our way out of the tepee. ‘This isn’t so bad,’ he said, looking up at the sun shining and then across the vast grassy planes.
‘No droopy downward dogs in sight. And a buffet to tuck into.’
I sniffed the air. ‘I smell ribs,’ I said, licking my lips. ‘Let’s get there first before anyone else gets a look in.’
Nick laughed. ‘That’s my girl,’ he said, patting me on the bottom.
By 2 p.m., after Nick and I had scoffed a giant rack of ribs, a twelve-ounce steak and a vat of BBQ sauce, and taken a long walk around the ranch, we dashed back to the oversized tepee that was the counselling centre.
We were the last couple to return. It wasn’t until we sat down that I realised Elspeth had been replaced by her ‘spiritual life partner’, Ernest. I immediately recognised him from the brochure, although with his drainpipe leather trousers and shaggy dyed hair he looked more like a displaced Rolling Stone than a revered professor of psychology.
He sat cross-legged and addressed us all as though he were about to present story time at nursery school.
‘You’ve probably all heard of the psychologist John Gottman,’ he said.
I nodded but everyone else looked back at him blankly.
Ernest laughed to himself. ‘He claims he can predict divorce with ninety-six per cent certainty.’
More blank expressions.
Ernest ran his hands through his hair. ‘What many people don’t realize—’ he rolled his eyes and mumbled ‘—because I’m not whoring myself around every chat show that’ll have me—’ he blinked and then looked up ‘—is that I can predict which couples will divorce with ninety-nine per cent certainty.’
Maureen gasped.
Ernest rubbed his hands on his thighs. ‘Data collected from twenty years of research has given me the power to see into your future.’
He jumped to his feet. ‘During your free time, my team and I monitored your interactions via the microphones on your truth beads.’
Nick sat up. ‘What?’ he said. ‘Is that even legal?’
Ernest turned to Nick with a wry smile. ‘It’s in the terms and conditions on your booking form. Besides,’ he added. ‘In the state of Texas, on private property virtually anything goes.’
Nick turned to me and raised his eyebrows.
Ernest continued. ‘So, if you would like to hear my findings, put your hand up.’
My hand shot up. Nick glared at me.
Maureen’s hand went up too, as did Chloe’s and Tom’s.
Ernest looked at me and then at the others. ‘Before we continue,’ he said, ‘let’s take a moment to consider our motivation for wanting to know the results.’ He readjusted the crotch area of his leather trousers. ‘It’s the same reason we have our palms read, or look at the arrangement of the stars or into crystal balls.’
I took my hand back down.
‘It’s for reassurance,’ he said. ‘Reassurance that everything will be OK without us actually having to do anything. A need that is fuelled by fear and insecurity. And laziness.’
I glanced at Nick, who was tracing a shape in the sand on the ground.
Then Ernest looked at Chloe and Tom. ‘Or a false certainty that the news will be good.’
He rubbed his hands together. ‘Still want to know my findings?’
I nodded.
He shook his hair, as though auditioning for a shampoo ad. ‘OK, you two,’ he said, gesturing towards me and Nick. My stomach tightened. ‘You have a good relationship.’
I glanced at Nick.
‘However, there is some contempt there,’ he said with the beginnings of a smile. ‘It’s early stages and just creeping in. But disdain is like tooth decay—’ he shook his hair again ‘—if you don’t address it, there will be problems and you will almost certainly divorce.’
Nick looked at me, eyes wide.
My heart was pounding. ‘You can’t possibly tell from overhearing us eating ribs, surely?’
Ernest shrugged his shoulders. ‘We can.’
Nick grimaced.
‘Don’t worry,’ Ernest added. ‘It isn’t critical yet. We can help you.’
I sighed, feeling as though someone had just amputated my legs and then presented me with a wheelchair as a solution.
Ernest turned to Malcolm and Doug. ‘There is a lot of love between you two,’ he said, then shook his head. ‘But Malcolm’s resentment is too deep for your relationship to survive. Without intensive therapy, you will almost certainly separate within two years.’
Malcolm burst into tears and Doug sprang forward to comfort him.
Then Ernest turned to Chloe and to Tom and scrunched up his face. ‘This is not what you want to hear,’ he said hitching up the waistband of his trousers, ‘but your relationship is unlikely to survive marriage. Tom, you have narcissistic personality disorder. It’s unlikely you’ll ever be able to sustain a happy relationship.’
Chloe immediately burst into tears. Tom frowned and then went to comfort Chloe, but Ernest jumped forward, beating him to it.
After he’d soothed Chloe, by rubbing her shoulders and then giving her a tight embrace, Ernest addressed Maureen and Walter.
‘It is clear there is some tension between you,’ he said, before turning to Walter. ‘And some unfulfilled desires.’ He raised his eyebrows twice in quick succession. ‘However, overall, you have a great regard for each other and I predict you will stay married.’
For a while, we all sat silent, seemingly stunned by our predicted outcomes, then Ernest forced us into a seated circle and made us all hold hands. He stood at the centre, arms out like he was offering his soul to the heavens. He began to chant. As his off-key murmurs floated up and out of the tepee, my line of sight was drawn to his crotch, where the leather trousers bunched and bulged with a faded sheen. The shiny skull on his belt buckle made me wonder if he saw himself more as an anarchist biker than scrawny scholar.
‘Now, my children,’ he said, between chants, ‘we are here to heal.’ He began to rub his hands over his body, lingering at the groin and then back to his chest. ‘To heal the decay in our hearts.’
Nick tugged on my hand, stifling a snigger.
Ernest opened one eye. ‘Silence,’ he said.
Nick raised his hand.
Ernest ignored him.
‘Hey,’ said Nick, half smiling, ‘Ernie.’
Ernest scowled briefly, then forced a smile. ‘Yes, Nicholas.’
‘Can you please explain what the fu—’ He paused and then glanced at Maureen. ‘Sorry. I’d like to know, how is this chanting helping anyone?’
Ernest closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again as though preparing to address a wayward toddler.
‘Nicholas, my son,’ he said, peering down his nose at Nick, who seemed to be growing less tolerant by the second, ‘it’s essential our minds are connected with our bodies before we can be receptive to change.’
Nick rolled his eyes. ‘As far as I’m aware, my mind is already connected to my body by a central nervous system. Can we move on now, please?’
Tom and Walter sniggered.
Ernest shrugged. ‘OK, if you think you’re ready.’ He looked around the group. ‘But this is a challenging exercise. Pain and suffering must be exposed before they can be exorcised.’
Nick rolled his eyes and then continued tracing a shape in the sand. It looked like a man. There was a large bulge in the groin area. Ernest must have noticed it too because he walked past Nick, kicking his sand sketch as he went.
‘Right then,’ Ernest said, readjusting his crotch area in a way which made me wonder what was going on under there. ‘We need you in couples for this exercise. Sit opposite each other and hold hands, with as many body parts touching as you can.’
Nick sniggered.
Ernest spun round. ‘For those of you who can’t take this seriously, there is the door.’ He pointed to the tepee entrance.
Nick sniggered again. ‘It’s more of a flap though, isn’t it?’
Ernest’s frown subsided. He stared at Nick and rubbed his chin and nodded. ‘Ah, I see. Now I understand.’
Nick frowned. ‘Und
erstand what?’
He nodded again, though more slowly this time. ‘To you, the door to the tepee represents a vagina.’ He continued nodding and then turned to the rest of the group, then back to Nick. ‘The door to your healing is a vagina. The tepee is the womb. I understand your resistance now. You are fearful of the womb. You are fearful of women.’ He began to rub Nick’s shoulders, his groin almost touching Nick’s ear. ‘It’s all right, Nicholas. You are safe here.’
Nick jumped away. ‘I’m not safe while you’re thrusting that thing in my face.’
Ernest patted Nick on the shoulder, then addressed the rest of the group. ‘When a man is fearful, he tries to dominate.’ Then he turned back to Nick with a false smile. ‘You don’t have to feel threatened by my manhood, Nicholas.’
Nick took a deep breath, looked up to the roof of the tepee and then back down at the sand again. I could tell he was fighting the urge to either punch Ernest on the nose or rip the tepee from the ground.
Eventually, he looked up at me.
‘You owe me,’ he mouthed.
Chapter 14
The focus of the afternoon’s sessions, or so Ernest told us, was to enhance intimacy within each couple. With each session though, I grew ever more fearful that we would be asked to strip off and fellate our master. And there were a few moments when it looked as though Nick might bolt out through the tepee flaps like an induced foetus. However, despite how alarming we were finding the experience, for whatever reason, we both stayed.
The final session, Ernest explained to his exhausted audience, was the crucial one. We were to write down our three biggest relationship fears and then share them with each other, and then the group.
I stared at my piece of paper for a while, then shifted from my cross-legged position because my leg was numb and started rubbing my calf. Ernest rushed over and began rubbing my leg vigorously. Just as I was about to explain to Ernest that there was nothing wrong with my inner thigh, Nick stood up and glared at him.
‘Nicholas, I am no threat to your relationship,’ Ernest said, sitting down and putting my leg on his lap. ‘Just relax, Ellie. Sometimes our bodies try to sabotage our healing. You are trying to move forward but your subconscious is holding you back.’