Edward Aubyn - On the Edge

Karen was very struck by the idea that Hitler hadn’t developed his heart space. What a world of suffering might have been avoided if only he’d had the privilege of attending one of Martha’s workshops.

‘Now listen up,’ Martha went on, ‘we’re going to play a game. You all like to play games, right?’

Compulsory games, thought Peter, please don’t make me play compulsory games. He didn’t want to be interrupted, he was thinking about Crystal and thinking about his perfect moment by the sea. If he concentrated, he could still feel the breeze sharpening his blood. The beauty and the terror of that self-annihilation had cooled with reflection and he imagined walking away calmly from his discarded personality like a woman stepping out of the crumpled circle of the skirt which has slipped to her feet. This vision merged with the thought of Crystal performing the same action, the ruby on her navel ring shining in the phosphorescent light of the churning ocean.

Get a grip, he urged himself.

‘Do you wanna pair up?’ asked the man to his left.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘We’re meant to get into pairs.’

‘Oh, right, yes.’

‘I’m Frank, by the way.’

‘Peter…’

‘Now, listen up,’ said Martha. ‘You’re four years old and you’ve just found some treasure on the beach, and you wanna take it home and hide it in your treasure box — you remember what it’s like to be four?’ she gushed.

Peter could remember loading caps into his toy pistol and being told by his father not to point guns; and breaking into a run and being told by his mother not to run; and trying to build a house out of pieces of toast and being told not to play with his food.

‘Who wants to be four again?’ he said to Frank. ‘You can’t even get a credit card in your own name.’

‘The shorter person in the pair is your best friend,’ said Martha. ‘They wanna see your treasure, but you don’t wanna let them see it,’ she lisped, stamping her good foot. ‘So, I want the best friend to do everything to try to persuade you to let her see the treasure, but you’re not going to give in and you won’t let her see it. OK? Has everybody got that? When I say “change” you swap roles and the taller person plays the best friend.’

Frank, who was slightly smaller than Peter, played the best friend.

‘Can I see your treasure?’

‘No.’

‘Please.’

‘No.’

‘I’ll pay you.’

‘How much?’

‘A million dollars.’

‘No,’ said Peter reluctantly.

‘But I love you and I’m your best friend.’

It was really absurd, thought Peter, if this chap was his best friend, not to show him the treasure. Why had Martha told them to say no? He was going to defy the rules, he was going to run if he felt like running.

‘You’re absolutely right,’ he said, ‘since you’re my best friend, I think you should see the treasure.’

‘Great.’

The two of them smiled vaguely at each other and relaxed. All around them two-stroke engines of pleading and refusal whirred on tirelessly.

‘It was love that brought you round.’

‘Love and boredom,’ admitted Peter.

‘I didn’t know what unconditional love was until I met my wife,’ said Frank.

‘Is she here?’

‘No, I came here for me and, also, she needed her own space this week. When we found each other, we just sat around at home for a long time and cried about our unmet needs.’

‘Are you still…’

‘No, we’re over that phase.’

‘Oh, good, it’s nice to get out occasionally.’

‘Change!’ shouted Martha.

‘Can I see your treasure?’ asked Peter.

‘No,’ said Frank.

‘But I showed you mine.’

‘Sucker.’

‘Well, I don’t think that’s very fair.’

‘You’re four years old and you don’t know the world’s unfair yet? Wise up,’ said Frank.

‘You little bastard, I thought we were supposed to be best friends.’

‘We are, but this is my treasure.’

‘I love you,’ said Peter disgustedly.

‘You do?’ said Frank, suddenly wide-eyed and vulnerable.

‘Yes.’

‘OK,’ said Frank, opening his cupped hands with histrionic tenderness.

The two men subsided into idleness. Peter was annoyed at having deployed the word ‘love’ like a password in a computer game. Frank was looking round to see if they were the only ones to have found this exit from the loop Martha had condemned them to. Only one other couple seemed to be in repose.

‘I have to admit, I’ve done this workshop before,’ said Frank. ‘I knew we were really meant to show our treasure.’

‘You’ve moved on and let go before?’

‘Yes, but Martha says that you can always come back because you can always go deeper,’ said Frank.

‘Ah-ha.’

‘OK,’ shouted Martha. ‘Time’s up! Which one of you showed the treasure?’

Peter and Frank, Karen and Blue-Eyes put up their hands.

‘Only four of you,’ said Martha.

‘But you told us not to,’ said some protesters.

‘And who told you to obey the rules?’ said Martha. ‘Your parents? Your teachers?’

‘I wanted to,’ a number of people cried out in self-defence.

‘No,’ said a woman’s voice over the hubbub of excuses. ‘I’m pleased I didn’t show my treasure.’

Peter looked at her carefully: she was in her sixties with a kind, maternal face.

‘And what’s your name?’ asked Martha.

‘Carol.’

‘Why are you pleased you didn’t show your treasure, Carol?’

‘It was my gift to myself; I’ve had to learn a lot about my boundaries,’ said Carol. ‘I was giving it away until two years ago,’ she groaned.

Everyone laughed, not least Martha and Carlos.

‘I read Women Who Love Too Much and it really changed my life,’ said Carol.

‘Well, we’ve certainly learned something about Carol, haven’t we?’ said Martha with relish. ‘She’s been “giving it away” until two years ago. But don’t you feel you may be overcompensating, dear, by not showing your treasure to your best friend? You “give it away” to a stranger, but you share with a best friend. The Middle Way is the path of the heart. We don’t want to be a spendthrift or a miser.’

‘No,’ said Carol firmly. ‘I feel really good about not showing it. I wasn’t just giving it away to strangers, I was giving it away to my children and my husband. I don’t blame him, we were just playing the roles we’d been taught, but when he passed away two years ago I was completely lost because I had no way of living except through serving others.’

‘But maybe now,’ said Carlos, ‘you look at the situation with the eyes of someone who realizes that she has given away too much. Abraham Maslow used to say that if you only have a hammer, every problem in the world looks like a nail. One reason why we asked you to imagine you were four years old is so that you could come to the problem freshly.’

‘Ya,’ said Carol, ‘I see what you’re saying, but we’re all individuals, right?’

‘Yes,’ said Carlos, without sparing a thought for what the other Carl might have said on the subject.

‘And maybe what I did wasn’t what you and Martha wanted to show, but maybe it was right for me.’

‘We’ll see how you feel about it at the end of the week, dear,’ said Martha, cutting short this rebellion. ‘Now, the ones that showed your treasure, why did you do that? What’s your name?’ she asked Blue-Eyes.

‘Paul.’

‘And why did you show your treasure, Paul?’

‘Well, you know,’ said Paul, rubbing Karen’s back, ‘Karen reminds me of my mom, and she was such a great lady I couldn’t refuse her anything.’