‘And what if we don’t want this experience?’ said Tony.
‘I think we’re all strapped into the spaceship now.’ Lars nudged Tony’s big beefy shoulder with his own. ‘All you can do is sit back and enjoy the ride. I find your smile very charming, by the way.’
‘Oh, so do I!’ said Frances. ‘I love his smile! It’s like his whole head kind of crumples up like a . . . like a . . . crumpled tissue.’
‘Jesus,’ said Tony.
‘You yourself are very handsome,’ said Frances to Lars. ‘Devastatingly handsome, in fact.’
Lars always felt fondly towards people who were unequivocal in their acknowledgement of his looks.
‘That’s kind of you,’ he said modestly. ‘I can’t take credit for it. I come from a long line of devastatingly handsome men.’
‘I feel like giving us drugs without our permission must be against the law,’ said Jessica.
Of course it’s against the law, you twit, thought Lars.
‘Please don’t call me a twit,’ said Jessica.
Lars’s blood ran cold. She could read his mind and she was extraordinarily wealthy. She now had the capacity to take over the world for her own nefarious purposes.
‘We’re here for couples counselling,’ said Jessica to Masha. ‘We paid for couples counselling. This is all just pointless for us.’
‘This will have a profound impact on your marriage,’ said Masha. ‘You and Ben won’t be separated on your journey. You will sit together and experience this as a couple.’ Masha indicated one of the clusters of cushions in the corner. ‘Your smoothies contained a different formula from everyone else’s. We studied the research carefully and we found that MDMA was the best –’
‘Ecstasy,’ snapped Heather. ‘She means ecstasy. She’s given you a party drug. Unbelievable. Kids die every year after taking ecstasy tablets, but don’t let that bother you.’
‘You’re being kind of a downer about all this, Mum,’ said Zoe.
‘Let’s go,’ said Ben to Jessica. He held out his hand to his wife and looked at Masha. ‘We’re leaving.’
‘Just . . . hold on.’ Jessica didn’t take his hand.
‘Again, when used in a controlled environment, MDMA is perfectly safe. It has been trialled for prescription psychotherapy with great success to treat PTSD, social anxiety and for couples therapy!’ said Masha. ‘There has never been a single death or even a single adverse reaction to a clinically administered dose of MDMA.’
‘This is not a clinical setting!’ cried Heather.
Masha ignored her. ‘MDMA is an empathogen. It produces feelings of empathy and openness.’
‘It is a very nice experience, you guys,’ said Lars lovingly.
Masha gave him a disapproving look. ‘But this is not about dancing all night at a club. This is guided therapy. You will find, Ben and Jessica, that you become more sensitive to feelings and more accepting of each other’s views. You’re about to communicate in a way you’ve probably never communicated before.’
‘Consent,’ said Napoleon. ‘I feel like that’s what’s missing here. I feel like . . . I’m pretty sure . . .’ He held up a finger. ‘I read the paperwork very carefully, and I feel certain we did not consent to this.’
‘No, we fucking did not,’ said Tony.
Jessica stuck one of her long, fake fingernails in her mouth and chewed.
Careful, thought Lars. Those things look sharp.
‘What things look sharp?’ Jessica frowned at Lars, and then turned to Ben. ‘Maybe we should give it a go?’
Ben, who was still on his feet, shook his head, his eyes fixed on a far-off horizon only he could see. ‘I did not choose this,’ he said again. ‘Drugs are dangerous. Drugs are bad. Drugs ruin lives.’
‘I know, babe,’ said Jessica, looking up at him. ‘But maybe we should just go with it?’
‘I think you two should go for it,’ said Lars. ‘I’ve seen a lot of bad marriages, but I think your marriage has . . .’ There was a fine word he needed to finish his fine sentence but it had escaped his brain.
The word swooped about between Jessica and Ben like a frisky butterfly before it landed, quivering, on Tony’s hand. Lars leaned forward and read it.
‘Potential!’ he said. ‘I think your marriage has potential.’
Time slowed, and then snapped back to normal pace.
Delilah stood right in front of him. She’d teleported herself, the clever minx.
‘It’s time to lie down now, Lars,’ said Delilah. Teleporting was a handy skill that Lars would like to develop. He would order Teleporting for Dummies. He felt like that was the kind of witticism his new friend Frances would appreciate, but he saw that Frances was with Yao, lying down on one of the stretchers, trustingly lifting her head as Yao placed a mask over her eyes.
‘Up you get.’ Delilah offered her hand. Lars was momentarily transfixed by a thick, lustrous curl of black hair that fell over her shoulder. He studied it for an hour and then he took her hand.
‘I know all about bad marriages,’ Lars explained as he let her haul him to his feet. Delilah was as strong and powerful as Wonder Woman and she also strongly resembled Wonder Woman. She was quite wondrous in many ways, although he would not let her near his hair.
‘Let’s talk about that more in a moment,’ said Delilah, as she led him to a stretcher. ‘We can explore it during your guided therapy.’
‘No thank you, sweetheart, I’ve already done years of therapy,’ said Lars. ‘There is nothing I don’t already know about my psyche.’
He thought of all those fat files crammed with pages of handwritten words about the Great Mysteries of Lars, which could in reality be summed up in a few paltry paragraphs.
When Lars was ten his father left his mother for a woman called Gwen. There may have been nice Gwens in the world, but Lars doubted it. His mother was screwed in the financial settlement. Now Lars spent his days eviscerating wealthy men who left their wives: an endless, pointless revenge fantasy against his long-dead father, a job which he found emotionally and financially satisfying.
He was a control freak because he’d lost control of his life when he was a kid, and weird about money because he’d grown up with none, and he wasn’t sufficiently vulnerable in his relationships because . . . he didn’t want to be vulnerable. He loved Ray, but there was a part of himself he withheld, because Ray had had a happy, functional childhood, and it seemed Lars subconsciously wanted to punch him in the face for having the happy childhood that Lars didn’t get. That was it. Nothing more to know, nothing more to learn. A few years ago Lars had swapped therapy for health resorts, and Ray took up cycling and got skinny and obsessed like all city cyclists. Life was good.
‘You haven’t done this sort of therapy,’ said Delilah.
‘No thank you,’ said Lars firmly and politely. ‘I’ll just take the trip.’
Lars lay down and got himself comfortable. Big Tony, Smiley Hogburn, lay on the stretcher next to his. Masha kneeled by his side, tucking him in with swift sure movements like he was a giant, grizzled baby. Lars met Tony’s eyes just before Masha covered them with a mask. It was like looking into the terrified eyes of a prisoner. Poor Tony. Just relax and enjoy it, big man.
Delilah leaned in close to Lars, her breath warm and sweet. ‘I’m going to leave you for a moment, but I’ll be back to check in on you and to talk about whatever is on your mind.’
‘There’s nothing on my mind,’ said Lars. ‘Don’t you touch my hair while I’m asleep, Delilah.’
‘Very funny. I’ve never heard that joke before. Masha and Yao are here too. You’re not on your own. You’re in safe hands, Lars. If there is anything you need, just ask.’
‘That’s sweet,’ said Lars.
Delilah put the mask over his eyes and headphones over his ears.
‘Look for the stars,’ said Delilah.
Classical music cascaded from the headphones directly into his brain. He could hear each note separately, in its entirety, with absolute purity. It was extraordinary.
A little boy with dark hair and a dirty face said to Lars, ‘Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.’