Love Is... (16 page)

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. ‘Understand 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

T
he 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.'

I stared at him. ‘My subconscious gave me pins and needles?' Suddenly I realised my toes had made contact with his crotch. I scrunched them up in an attempt to recoil but in doing so I inadvertently gripped his package with my toes. Ernest smiled and thrust himself further onto my foot. I glanced at Nick, who was now shaking his head, trying not to laugh.

After I'd pretended my pins and needles had passed, I sat back on the ground and stared at the paper again. I picked up the pencil Ernest had provided and studied it. It was thick and long, and had the texture of a tree trunk. It led me to wonder how Ernest might psychoanalyse himself. Soon he was lingering behind me.

‘Are we struggling, Ellie?' He began rubbing his chin again. ‘It seems you have a blockage when it comes to your fears. Why do you think that is?'

I scrunched up my face.

‘Perhaps if we take a look at what Nick has written then it might help you.' He leaned over and snatched the paper from Nick. Aside from a large vaginal opening, which Nick had doodled on the side, there were three sentences scrawled on the paper.

Ernest read them out.

‘Fear number one,' Ernest began. ‘Our relationship will get boring.' He turned to Nick. ‘So, Nick, you fear that your relationship with Ellie might get boring?'

Nick nodded. ‘That's what I wrote.'

Ernest looked at me. ‘And how do you feel about that, Ellie?'

My stomach had clenched a little when he read it out, but it was a reasonable fear so I wasn't too concerned. ‘Slightly worried that Nick thinks I'm boring,' I said.

Nick interrupted. ‘That's not what I meant, though.'

Ernest silenced him with a hand gesture. ‘I hear insecurity. Let's move on to the next on the list.' He looked down at the paper. ‘Fear two: I worry that Ellie will be disappointed in me.'

My mind started whirring. ‘Why would I be disappointed in you? Are you going to disappoint me?'

Nick rolled his eyes. ‘That's not what I meant.'

Ernest interrupted with a silencing hand gesture. ‘And the final one…' he squinted his eyes at the paper ‘…I worry that Ellie will grow to hate me.'

Ernest looked at me, then back at Nick.

‘Why would I hate you?' I asked.

Nick uncrossed his legs and then crossed them again. ‘Because you always seem unhappy with me. You say I drink too much, I work too much, I don't listen to every word that comes out of your mouth. You even got angry at me because my colleague is hot. How can I help that?'

I huffed. ‘I knew it. So you think she's hot?'
And funny and clever,
I thought but didn't say.

‘Just because she's hot doesn't mean I want to be with her. You know our relationship is so much more than that, Ellie.'

I scowled at him.

Ernest chipped in. ‘Ellie, I think we've stumbled across your biggest fear. One which Nick seems to be fuelling.'

Nick and I both turned to him.

‘Abandonment,' Ernest said, with a nod. ‘Ellie, your biggest
fear is abandonment. That's why you're insecure. And Nick's not helping with his fraternisation with sexually desirable women.' Ernest stared ahead for a moment. ‘These women, I suppose they have large breasts, Nicholas?' His gaze drifted to Chloe's cleavage, as though nuzzling it with his eyes. ‘Full bouncy breasts. A symbol of the nurturing you lacked.'

Nick burst out laughing. ‘I don't know. I'm not perving when I'm at work. I'm working.'

Ernest took both Nick's hands in his. ‘Freud himself identified the common urge to suckle a bountiful bosom.'

Nick was almost belly laughing by this point. ‘I don't want to suckle anyone's bosom. Apart from Ellie's.'

I screwed my face up. ‘You want to
suckle
me?'

Nick laughed again. ‘No, that's not what I meant. Bloody hell, good job we're not on
Oprah
.'

Ernest gipped Nick's hands again. ‘No need to feel shame, my son. These are natural drives. You should embrace them.' Ernest looked at me, then back at Nick. ‘You just need to reassure Ellie that if you copulate with another, it doesn't mean you will love her any less, or leave her.'

‘What?' I couldn't help but interrupt. ‘You're telling Nick to have an affair.'

Ernest let out a deep sigh. ‘Not of the heart but just of the body. He needs it. He's a man.'

Nick chipped in. ‘I don't want an affair of the body or the mind.'

Ernest smiled and nodded slowly as though he knew better. ‘The societal constraints we have inflicted upon our relationships only lead to resentment and shame.'

I tutted and went to stand up. ‘This is bullshit. Elspeth might let you
copulate
with whoever you like, but that's not
how I choose to live my life. Love is the only pure thing left in this world. I came to you to find out how to keep it that way. Not for you to sodomise it with phallic pencils and bulging leather trousers.' I stopped and took a breath, realising that my argument had ceased to make any sense.

Ernest took my hand. ‘Resistance is fear, Ellie. Fear will kill your marriage.'

I snatched my hand away. ‘You might have your wife fooled, but you're not fooling me.' Then I grabbed Nick's hand and dragged him from the tepee womb.