desk like this one, contemplating their own lives. I wondered what they would find to say.
It was a return to the hubris I felt whenever I thought of the others.
What, indeed, had I found worth saying? While writing, I had been humbled by the discovery that very little of interest had happened to me.
Was this perhaps the real reason I had invented so much? Was it not, after all, that truth was best found through metaphor, but that self-deceit and self-embellishment were the principal motives?
I looked along the cabin at the top of Seri's head, bent over the magazine while she read. Her pale blonde hair fell forward, concealing her face. She was bored with me, wanted a break. I had become self-obsessed, introspective, endlessly questioning. My inner life was constantly externalizing itself, and Seri had always been there to bear the brunt of it.
I had spent too much time in my inner world; I too was tiring of it, wanted an end to it all.
Seri ignored me as I undressed and climbed into the other bed. Some time later she turned off the lights and crawled into her own bed. I listened to the sound of her breathing until I drifted off into sleep.
In the middle of the night, Seri came to lie with me. She held me tightly, kissed my face and neck and ear until I wakened, and then we made love.
14
The following morning, while Seri was taking a shower, the counsellor arrived at the chalet. Almost at once it was as if my doubts were focused.
Her name was Lareen Dobey; she introduced herself, invited me to use her first name, and sat down in the chair behind the desk. I was on my guard from the moment she arrived, sensing the momentum of the Lotterie's system behind her. She was here to counsel me, implying she was trained to persuade me.
She was middle-aged, married, and reminded me of a teacher I had had in my first year at senior school. This alone gave me the instinct to resist her influence, but on a more rational level it was clear she took it for granted that I would be going ahead to take the treatment. I now had an object for my doubts, and my thoughts clarified.
There was a brief, irrelevant conversation: Lareen asked me about my journey, what islands I had visited. I found myself taking a mental step back from her, secure in my new objectivity. Lareen was here to counsel me through the treatment, and I had at last reached my decision.
'Have you had breakfast yet, Peter?' she said.
'No.'
She reached behind a curtain beside the desk and pulled forward a telephone receiver I had not known was there.
'Two breakfasts for Chalet 24, please.'
'Would you make that three?' I said.
Lareen looked at me inquisitively, and I explained briefly about Seri.
She changed the order, then hung up.
'Is she a close friend?' Lareen said.
'Fairly close. Why?'
'We sometimes find that the presence of someone else can be distressing.
Most people come here alone.'
'Well, I haven't decided--'
'On the other hand, from our point of view the rehabilitation process can be greatly assisted. How long have you known Seri?'
'A few weeks.'
'And do you expect the relationship to go on?'
Annoyed by the frankness of the question, I said nothing. Seri was within earshot, had she chosen to listen, and anyway I could not see what it had to do with this woman. She stared at me, until I looked away. In the shower cubicle I heard Seri turn off the water.
'All right, I understand,' Lareen said. 'Maybe you find it difficult to trust me.'
'Are you trying to psychoanalyse me?'
'No. I'm trying to learn what I can about you, so I can help you later.'
I knew I was wasting this woman's time. Whether or not I 'trusted' her was not the issue; the confidence I lacked was in myself. I no longer wanted what her organization offered me.
Just then, Seri came in from the shower cubicle. She had a towel wrapped around her body and another about her head. She glanced at Lareen, then went to the other end of the chalet and pulled the screen across.
Knowing that Seri could hear me, I said: 'I might as well be honest with you, Lareen. I've decided not to accept the treatment.'
'Yes, I see. Are your reasons ethical on religious?'
'Neither ...well, ethical I suppose.' The promptness of the question had again taken me by surprise.
'Did you have these feelings when you bought the ticket?' Her tone was interested, not inquisitive.
'No, they came later.' Lareen was waiting, so I went on, noting subconsciously that she was expert at
