can’t remember.’
Monika opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat. A green pine air-freshener dangled from the rear-view mirror. Åse followed her gaze and sighed.
‘I dearly love my husband, but he has never had particularly good taste.’
She opened the glove box and tossed the pine tree inside. The aroma still lingered, and she rolled down the window before she put the car in gear and drove off.
‘Okay.’
The word was accompanied by a relieved sigh.
‘Finally, we’re on our way. A couple of mornings like this a year are liable to shorten your life expectancy.’
Monika looked out the side window and smiled. She already felt like calling Thomas.
* * *
The course venue looked like it had once been a boarding-house. Yellow with white corners and a newly built annexe next door with all the hotel rooms. The journey here had been full of laughter and wise insights. Åse had proven to be both witty and funny, and perhaps humour was a necessary trait, considering she was head of a treatment centre for drug-addicted girls in their early teens.
‘I don’t really know how I stand it, hearing all the things some of those girls have been through. But every time I realise that I’ve had a hand in helping some of them move on and break their addiction, it’s all worth it.’
The world was full of heroic people.
And those who wished they were heroic.
On the schedule they had received in the mail, it said the course would begin with a reception and the introduction of the leaders and participants. The rest of the afternoon they would learn how to motivate their co-workers by ‘understanding people’s basic needs’. Monika could feel her interest flagging. She wanted to go home, and as soon as she got her key and checked into her room she rang Thomas. He answered right away, even though he was in a meeting and really couldn’t talk. And afterwards her motivation to ‘understand people’s basic needs’ was even less.
She already knew all about it.
‘Well, now you know who I am, so it’s time for all of us to find out who you are. Your names are on your name tags, so you can skip that part. But the rest of us have no idea what you do.’
Twenty-three newly arrived participants sat in a circle and listened intently to the woman standing in the centre. She was the only one who seemed comfortable in this situation; those seated looked around the circle rather self-consciously. Monika was struck by how obvious it was. Twenty-three grown people, all in leadership positions, several wearing suits, had suddenly been hauled out of their comfort zones and were bereft of any kind of control. As if by magic, twenty-three scared kids now sat there instead. She felt it herself; the discomfort crept through her body, and not even the thought of Thomas made her plight feel more bearable.
‘With regard to the course content for this afternoon, I have a proposal and a request about what I’d like you to tell us about yourselves, so I thought I’d start with a little exercise.’
Monika met Åse’s glance and they exchanged a brief smile. Åse had told her in the car that she had never been to a ‘personal development’ course before and that she was a bit sceptical. It was the session about how to handle stress that had appealed to her.
The woman in the centre continued: ‘To start with, I’d like you all to close your eyes.’
The participants glanced uncertainly at each other, mutely wondering what this was about before they retreated one by one into darkness. Monika felt even more vulnerable now, as if she were sitting naked on her chair and no longer knew whose eyes to hide from. The leg of a chair scraped on the floor. She was sorry that she had let herself be talked into coming.
‘I’m going to say six words. I want you to pay attention to your thoughts and above all notice the first specific memory that comes to mind when you hear them.’
Someone coughed to Monika’s left. Only a faint