Henrietta leaned forward. “Yes, Olaf. I want to hear. I really want to hear.”
Olaf looked at her with concern. “Why?” he asked. “Why should you be so keen?”
Henrietta gave him a look of injured innocence. “Because we want to help you,” she said. “That’s why we’re here—to help you with these improper impulses of yours.”
Olaf turned to Dr. Ebke. “Improper? Who said anything about improper?”
Although the question had been addressed to Dr. Ebke, it was answered by Henrietta. “You did, Olaf. You told us about them in your bio.”
“I didn’t,” protested Olaf. “I said I was troubled. I said: troublesome thoughts.”
“No, you didn’t,” interjected Peter. “Look, it’s here.” He extracted the administrator’s letter from his pocket and unfolded it. “Yes, it says troubling impulses. See? Impulses, not thoughts.”
Dr. Ebke raised a hand. “I don’t think we should take an accusing tone with one another, everybody. The important thing is what Olaf says here—in our presence.”
“I’d like to know the difference between an impulse and a thought,” Peter interjected. “Is there one, do you think?”
“It’s really a question of—” began Olaf.
Peter interrupted him. “I was asking Dr. Ebke,” he said. “Not you.”
Olaf looked injured. “You don’t need to take that tone with me. It’s my thoughts we were discussing.”
“Your impulses,” said Henrietta.
Ulf observed. He had his eye on Olaf and was wondering whether he had encountered him somewhere before—professionally. It would be a tricky matter, he thought, if one of these people started to talk about having done something criminal. Would he have to act? Would he have to suddenly extract his police ID card and say, “Enough group therapy—you’re under arrest”? He tried not to stare too hard at Olaf, but the more he looked at him, the more he suspected that the conversation would have to be about impulses rather than thoughts—and it might not be an easy one.
But then Olaf rose to his feet. “I’m leaving, Dr. Ebke. I’m sorry, but I’m withdrawing.”
“You’re being impulsive,” said Peter, and laughed. This brought a stern look of disapproval from Dr. Ebke.
“There’s no call for levity,” said the therapist. “And we must not laugh at one another. This is very, very serious.”
Ulf tried not to laugh. He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose. That helped.
Dr. Ebke accompanied Olaf from the room, trying to dissuade him as he strode out. But Olaf, it seemed, was adamant in his decision to withdraw. From where he was sitting, Ulf had a good view through the window of the car park outside. He noticed with some satisfaction that Olaf went to the car with the shaded windows, climbed in, and drove off. He noted with even greater satisfaction that Dr. Ebke, who had accompanied Olaf out of the building, still pleading with him, now went to fetch something from his own car. And that, of course, was the Mercedes-Benz.
Ulf turned to Peter. “Do you drive that Porsche out there?” he asked.
Peter nodded. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
“It’s a nice car,” said Ulf appreciatively.
Of course you drive it, he thought. Of course you do.
* * *
—
After Olaf’s departure, the atmosphere changed and the remainder of the session went smoothly enough. When Ulf’s turn came to discuss his problems, he restricted himself to talking about the distress that he felt in having to deal with bad behaviour. Since Dr. Ebke had revealed that Ulf was a detective, he was able to talk about the stresses of work. He warned the group, though, that he could not talk about any details, and that any remarks he made about his work would be at a high level of generality.
Henrietta followed Ulf. Her concern was self-knowledge, she said. “I know that I have reasons for the things I do,” she explained. “But sometimes I ask myself: Why did I do that? I mean that rather than that. That’s the really interesting question, I find. That’s why I started seeing somebody. I didn’t want therapy to solve any issues for me—I wanted it to show me what the issues are.” She paused, looking in turn at each of the other members of the group. “Does that make sense to you?”
“Yes,” said Peter. “You want to find out about yourself.”
“Yes,” Henrietta enthused. “How many of us really know ourselves—I mean, really know?”
The discussion of Henrietta’s quest took about half an hour. At the end she seemed pleased with the result. “I feel as if I’ve really got into myself, you know. I feel that I understand a bit better what brought me here today. I see it in its context, I suppose. That makes a difference.”
Then it was Peter, who spoke for more than twenty minutes on a domestic ritual he had to perform before he could leave the house. “I know this sounds absurd,” he said, “but I have to take all my shirts out of the wardrobe and put them away again. Twice.”
“What would happen if you didn’t do that?” asked Henrietta.
“My plane would crash,” Peter answered.
Ulf stared at him. Did airlines not have strict medical requirements? Was there not a psychiatric examination for pilots?
“Oh, I know that’s ridiculous,” said Peter. “I know what you think.”
“It’s superstitious behaviour,” said Dr. Ebke. “It’s very common. Many people have to perform little rituals or they think something dreadful will happen. We’ve all probably done that at one stage or another. You say to yourself, If I don’t do this, then something awful’s going to happen. It’s simple superstition.” He looked at Peter. “But here’s an interesting thing: Talking about those beliefs to other people, shining a light on them, completely defuses them. They go away.”
“So the dreaded thing never happens?” asked Henrietta.
“Never,” said Dr. Ebke.
Peter looked relieved. “Good,” he said. Then his face fell. “But it could happen, couldn’t it?”
Dr. Ebke gave a reassuring smile. “Of course, anything can happen—anything at all. But if the feared event did happen in a case like this, it would be pure chance. It would not be a case of post hoc ergo propter hoc. In other words, there would be no causal link between the failure to perform a superstitious ritual and the occurrence of the dreaded event.” He smiled again, tolerantly. “It would be no more than an act of what people used to call God.”