The Right Answer

‘No,’ said Eva. ‘I want to get out.’

‘That’s fine,’ said the woman across from her. ‘But then you have to say it out loud.’

‘I am, aren’t I?’

‘To him, Eva. Not to me.’

Eva looked at the man standing by the door. He had his hands in his pockets and was studying a fire extinguisher as though he were considering buying one.

‘I’d like to go outside,’ she said.

He didn’t respond.

‘Perhaps a little clearer,’ the woman suggested.

Eva cleared her throat. ‘I would like you to open the door.’

The man looked up. ‘Why?’

‘Because I want to leave.’

‘Why?’

Eva turned to the woman. ‘Is this really necessary?’

‘You have seven minutes left. Try not to look at me.’

The woman’s name was Judith. She was a psychologist, specialising in assertiveness, conflict management and the improvement of personal boundaries. Her website also mentioned mindfulness, burnout prevention and something involving horses. Eva had opted for the basic package. Horses were expensive, and she had never met one that seemed particularly interested in her opinion.

‘I want to leave,’ she repeated.

‘There’s no need to be so unkind,’ said the man.

‘Sorry.’

Judith tapped her pen on her clipboard. ‘No. No sorry. Again.’

Eva clasped her hands together under the table.

She had signed up three weeks earlier for the course No Is an Answer Too. Her manager had thought it an excellent idea. So had her mother. Even her ex had encouraged her, which Eva, in hindsight, regarded as fairly convincing proof that she did indeed have a problem.

The first two sessions had been pleasant. They had sat in a circle, drunk coffee and learned that their needs were just as important as other people’s. Eva had received this announcement with some scepticism, but had not made an issue of it.

Today’s programme was an individual practice session.

‘May I ask why the door is locked?’ she asked.

‘That’s part of the exercise,’ said Judith.

‘But why?’

‘What do you think?’

Eva hated that question. If she knew, she wouldn’t be paying ninety euros an hour to find out.

The man took a step forward. ‘I think you should stay.’

Eva smiled automatically. ‘Yes, but I would still like to—’

‘I think you’re rather selfish.’

‘Oh.’

‘We’re making an effort for you here. Judith has cleared her diary. I came specially. And you just want to walk out.’

‘I understand that. It’s nothing personal.’

Judith wrote something down. ‘Eva. You don’t have to defend yourself.’

‘No.’

‘Say what you want.’

‘I want to leave.’

‘To him.’

Eva turned round. ‘Open that door.’

The man smiled. ‘There you go.’ He took a key from his trouser pocket and held it up. ‘That went fine, didn’t it?’

Eva nodded, relieved.

‘Then we’ll move on to the second part,’ said Judith.

The man put the key away again.

‘What second part?’

‘Maintaining boundaries under increased pressure.’

Eva looked at her watch. ‘Perhaps we could do that next week? I have to pick up my daughter.’

‘What time?’

‘Four o’clock.’

‘It’s a quarter to three.’

‘Yes, but there’s often traffic on the ring road.’

Judith put down her pen. ‘Do you hear yourself?’

Eva heard herself constantly. It was one of her less attractive qualities.

‘You’re inventing reasons to avoid an uncomfortable situation. When this is precisely a safe environment in which you can practise.’

‘Yes.’

‘Nothing can happen to you here.’

The man walked over to the table and picked up Eva’s phone.

‘Hey,’ she said.

He looked at the screen. ‘Pretty daughter.’

Eva stood up. ‘Give it back.’

‘Ask nicely.’

‘Please.’

Judith sighed. ‘What did we agree about politeness as a defence mechanism?’

‘That I—’

‘You don’t need permission to get your own things back.’

The man put the phone in his pocket.

‘Then I’ll take it myself,’ said Eva.

‘Go ahead and try.’

He was a big man. Not exceptionally big, but big enough for Eva to decide that it might be wiser after all to settle the matter verbally.

‘I’m stopping,’ she said.

‘Not convincing.’

‘I’m stopping. Now.’

‘You sound angry.’

‘I am.’

‘There’s no need for that, is there?’

‘Give me my phone. Or I’ll call the police.’

The man laughed.

Judith smiled approvingly. ‘Excellent. That was the first time you stated a consequence.’

Eva looked from one to the other. ‘Is it over?’

‘Almost. Sit down.’

‘No.’

‘Eva.’

‘No. I’ll stay standing.’

Judith made a note.

The man put her phone on the table. ‘Go on, call them.’

Eva grabbed it. No signal. Even the emergency number wouldn’t connect.

‘That’s part of the exercise,’ said Judith. ‘In real life you can’t always count on help either.’

‘I want you to open the door now.’

Judith closed her folder. ‘All right. Then we’ll wrap up.’

The man turned the key and pulled at the door. It stayed shut. He put his shoulder to it and swore.

‘Don’t be so childish, Mark.’

Judith took over the key. She had no more luck.

‘We’ll need someone from building maintenance.’

‘Then call them,’ said Eva.

‘There’s no signal.’

Eva laughed. ‘You’re joking. I suppose this is part of the course?’

Judith looked at Mark. He shook his head.

Then came three knocks on the door.

‘Hello?’ Eva called.

‘Mrs Vermeer?’ a man’s voice answered.

‘Yes! We’re locked in.’

‘I know. Would you mind stepping away from the door?’

Eva took a step back.

‘Thank you. Judith, could you put the clipboard on the table?’

Judith froze.

‘Who are you?’

‘The clipboard, Judith.’

‘Do you know this guy?’ asked Mark.

‘No.’

‘Then why are you doing what he says?’

Judith put the clipboard down.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Eva.

‘Mrs Vermeer, there’s something I’d like you to hear.’

There was a shuffling on the other side of the door. Then Eva heard a soft electronic beep, as if someone were switching on a speaker.

‘Mum?’

Eva stepped forward.

‘Noor?’

‘Mum, where are you?’

Eva recognised the hoarse voice at once. That morning Noor had spent half an hour searching for a missing gym shoe and had ended up screaming the house down.

‘Sweetheart, where are you?’

‘With a lady. She says I have to wait here for you.’

‘What lady?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Let me speak to the lady.’

‘I’m not allowed.’

Eva turned to Judith.

‘My daughter is eleven.’

‘Eva, I don’t know what’s happening here.’

‘You have her name.’

‘You filled that in yourself on the intake form.’

‘And her school?’

Judith didn’t answer.

Mark pounded on the door. ‘Open up this minute!’

‘Mark,’ said the voice, ‘we agreed that you would behave professionally.’

‘My role ended ten minutes ago, pal.’

‘Then you should have opened the door while you still could.’

Mark looked at Judith. ‘What sort of company did you actually hire?’

‘I only hired you.’

‘Then I want out of here too.’

Eva heard Noor again.

‘Mum, do I have to stay here?’

‘No, darling. Find a door. If you see someone, ask for help.’

‘The lady says I’m not allowed.’

‘I don’t care what the lady says.’

The line crackled briefly.

‘Mrs Vermeer,’ said the man’s voice. ‘You may collect your daughter as soon as you have completed the final component.’

‘Let her go.’

‘That is a wish on someone else’s behalf. You gave consent for the supplementary family module. Page four of your intake form.’

Eva looked at Judith.

‘You are seeking validation from an external authority, Mrs Vermeer.’

‘That module is optional,’ said Judith. ‘I didn’t enrol her for it.’

‘You did read the form before you signed it, Mrs Vermeer?’

Eva tried to remember the paperwork. She had signed documents at reception. Three signatures. She couldn’t remember what for. Only that Judith had lent her a pen.

‘I want to speak to Noor.’

‘Once again you are defining your need through your role as a mother. You may speak to her as soon as you have made a choice.’

On the table, Judith’s phone rang.

Eva stared at the screen.

‘How is that possible? I thought there was no signal here?’

Judith answered. She listened, looked at the door and ended the call.

‘Who was that?’ asked Eva.

‘My husband.’

‘The man behind the door?’

‘No. My husband is at home.’

‘What did he want?’

‘To know whether I’m keeping to our agreement.’

‘What agreement?’ asked Mark.

‘I did this course myself. Three years ago. My husband signed me up at the time.’

‘And?’

‘I thought it had helped.’

‘Judith,’ said the voice behind the door. ‘You know we don’t discuss personal experiences during a session.’

Judith looked at the clipboard on the table.

‘He signed our daughter up too,’ she said.

‘How old was she?’ asked Eva.

‘Nine.’

‘What happened to her?’

Judith didn’t answer. She picked up her clipboard and laid it down with the written side facing the table.

Eva walked to the door.

‘What do I have to do?’

‘You may nominate one person to leave the room. Yourself, Judith or Mark. The others will stay for further guidance.’

‘And Noor?’

‘If you choose yourself, she may go with you.’

Mark spread his arms. ‘Well, sorted. Choose yourself.’

‘I did that too,’ said Judith.

‘And then?’

‘That’s when it started.’

Eva looked at the door. Somewhere Noor was sitting with a strange woman, perhaps in this building, perhaps miles away. She couldn’t even see the corridor. And Judith stood there as if she knew what was going to happen.

‘Why should I believe you?’

Judith nodded. ‘I wouldn’t either.’

‘Mum?’ came from behind the door.

‘Yes, darling?’

‘If you don’t come, can I still go home?’

‘Of course.’

‘The lady says no.’

‘That lady has no say over you.’

‘She says you have to choose.’

‘Choose what, Noor?’

‘Whether you stay with me, or I stay with you.’

‘What do you mean, sweetheart?’

‘The lady says I can’t stay with you if you can’t stay with yourself.’

Eva picked up the chair and rammed it against the door. Mark took over when a leg broke off. They kept hitting until the wood lay in pieces and the metal frame was bent.

There was no response whatsoever from the other side.

‘Mum, I want to go home.’

Eva looked at Judith, who was still standing by the table.

‘If I choose myself, what happens to Noor?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You’ve been through this before, haven’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you know.’

Judith looked at her. ‘I know what happened to my daughter.’

Eva waited.

‘She doesn’t speak to me any more.’

Eva was suddenly in no great hurry to become assertive. She thought of Noor, who still asked her in the evenings to sit with her for a while. Of the way she reached for her hand when they crossed a busy street together.

‘Mum?’

‘Yes, sweetheart?’

‘I’m scared.’

Eva turned to the door.

‘I choose myself! Do you hear me? I choose myself. Leave her alone!’

The lock clicked open.

The door swung inwards. There was no one in the corridor.

Mark grabbed his jacket from the other chair, but stopped at the threshold. He looked at Judith, as if waiting for a sign that he too was allowed to leave.

Eva looked at Judith.

‘Come with me.’

Judith shook her head.

‘Please.’

‘You chose yourself.’

‘That doesn’t mean I have to leave you here, does it?’

‘For them it does.’

Eva took her hand. Judith pulled it back.

‘Go to your daughter.’

Eva walked into the corridor. At reception a young woman sat behind a computer. She wore a name badge and was eating a sandwich.

‘Where is my daughter?’

The woman pointed to the open waiting area beside the desk.

Noor was sitting on a bench with a colouring book on her lap. Her coat hung over the back. She jumped up the moment she saw Eva.

Eva pulled her close.

‘Mum, why did it take so long?’

‘I’m sorry, sweetheart.’

‘Have you finished the course now?’

‘Yes. We’re going home.’

Noor stayed where she was. She looked at her coat, but didn’t pick it up.

‘What is it?’

‘I have to write something down first.’

She took a small notebook out of her rucksack. On the cover it said No Is an Answer Too. Underneath, someone had written Noor’s name.

‘What’s that?’

‘Homework.’

Noor opened it. The first page held a table with three columns: date, situation and Mum’s reaction.

‘I have to write down every day when you say sorry.’

‘You don’t have to do that at all.’

‘But you just said “I’m sorry”.’

‘That was because I kept you waiting.’

‘That counts too.’

Eva looked at the notebook.

‘No, sweetheart. We’re not doing this.’

Noor held her pen above the paper.

‘Can I write it down anyway?’

‘No.’

The girl began to cry.

‘But then I have to come back tomorrow.’

Eva reached out to take the notebook. Noor flinched and held it against her chest.

‘Please, Mum. I want to do it right.’

Eva lowered her hand.

‘All right then, sweetheart.’

Noor wiped her eyes and made a mark in the notebook.

Behind the desk, the receptionist put down her sandwich.

‘She did ever so well today,’ she said.

Noor took her coat from the back of the bench.

‘See, Mum? It isn’t difficult at all.’