‘In my case, what?’ Christa pounced suspiciously as he opened the folder he was holding. ‘What makes my case different? Or can I guess?’ she challenged him cynically. ‘You’ve already altered the odds in your own favour by doubling the length of the course, but I can tell you now, it doesn’t matter what you say or do, I shan’t change my mind,’ she told him triumphantly.
Just for a second, the grey eyes hardened slightly as he focused on her. ‘The extended length of your course has nothing whatsoever to do with my trying to shorten the odds in my favour, as you put it,’ he told her curtly. ‘It’s simply that without any shared group interaction it will take longer to…’
‘To brainwash me,’ Christa supplied acidly. ‘Why don’t you just lock me in my room and starve me into submission?’
He was angry now, Christa recognised, a small thrill of apprehension running down her spine as she saw the way his eyes had darkened, his mouth hardening as he looked at her.
‘Don’t tempt me,’ he told her softly. But then his expression lightened, a brief smile touching his mouth as he said, ‘You, submissive…? Somehow I doubt it.’
There was something in the way he was looking at her…something in his smile…Thoroughly flustered, Christa dropped her head.
Damn the man! How had he managed to turn her angry challenge around so that suddenly it was filled with such subtle sexual innuendo that she could actually feel her body starting to grow hot?
‘So what exactly are you planning to do with me?’ she demanded quickly—too quickly, she realised, biting her lip in chagrin as she waited for him to use the verbal slip she had just made; but to her relief, and to her surprise as well, he didn’t do so, merely looking down at his file and telling her,
‘The course comprises a mixture of physical and mental exercises designed to promote trust in others and to foster an ability to share control through group activities and group discussions.
‘The group activities make use of our surroundings and include mountain-walking, where the walkers are paired together, and, similarly, canoeing…’
‘Canoeing…’ Christa stared at him. ‘No way, you can forget that,’ she told him, visions of the flimsy, frail craft he was talking about filling her horrified imagination. She could swim—just—preferably in a heated pool with no current and no waves, but if he expected her voluntarily to risk her life…
‘There’s nothing to be afraid of…’ she heard him telling her, as though he had read her mind. ‘The canoes are unsinkable; the worst that can happen is that they might roll over if badly handled, but you’ll be wearing a wetsuit and…’
‘No. No way,’ Christa reiterated with angry vehemence.
‘I promise you, there really is nothing to fear,’ Daniel repeated. ‘I am a fully qualified instructor and…’
‘I don’t damn well care how qualified you are,’ Christa told him fiercely. ‘I am not going canoeing.’
‘It’s an important part of the course; without it…However, if you’ve changed your mind and you no longer want to go through with the course…’
Wild-eyed with fury, Christa glared at him. She didn’t trust herself to speak. If she did…He was trying to trick her, to trap her into giving up, backing down and letting him win by default.
‘I hope for your sake you’re well insured,’ she told him through gritted teeth.
‘Very,’ he confirmed. ‘But, if it’s any comfort to you, we haven’t drowned a pupil yet.’
‘One bruise… just one bruise…’ Christa threatened him, ignoring the laughter she could see gleaming in his eyes.
‘If canoeing is really a problem for you…’ she heard Daniel saying, the laughter gone, his voice once again holding that deep male note of concern which made her feel as though somehow her heart had a huge bruise against it.
‘You’re my problem,’ she told him bitterly. ‘You and this whole money-making charade you’re running here.’
‘Charade!’ Now he was angry, Christa recognised, willing herself not to cringe back into her chair as he got up and came towards her, his expression mirroring the anger she could see in his eyes. ‘This is no charade. On the contrary, it’s something I take extremely seriously.’
‘Seriously?’ Christa interrupted him scathingly. ‘You call sitting round in a circle empathising with one another serious…climbing mountains and paddling canoes…? Oh, and by the way, when exactly does it take place, this trial by water?’
‘Most people find it a rather enjoyable experience; however, if you really are afraid, we could…’
‘I am not afraid,’ Christa denied through gritted teeth. ‘I simply don’t see the point.’
‘You’re lying, Christa, you are afraid,’ Daniel told her quietly.
‘Not of the canoeing,’ she shot back fiercely.
‘No. Then, what? I wonder. Being proved wrong, perhaps?’ He was angry, Christa recognised, despite that quiet voice and his apparent calm. ‘No,’ she told him spiritedly, ‘because I shan’t be proved wrong. There’s no way you can make me change my mind about what you claim you’re achieving here.’ Or about you, she could have added, but the words stuck in her throat, the triumph of having goaded him into anger for some reason tasting sour on her tongue instead of sweet.
‘This whole thing…these…these discussions…these walks, this canoeing,’ she told him fiercely. ‘They’re all just a waste of time…’
‘No,’ he corrected her, walking away from her to stand by the chair he had just vacated. ‘They’re not. They are, in fact, an excellent way of fostering trust and mutual reliance.’
‘Fostering.’ Christa stopped him, her eyebrows rising tauntingly. ‘Trust is something that either exists between people or doesn’t.’
‘Yes, I agree, but sometimes for one reason or another we lose, or even deliberately block out, our ability to trust others, and when that happens it needs to be encouraged to grow and thrive, to be fostered…’
‘Or forced?’ Christa suggested mock-sweetly, adding with a small shrug, ‘Anyway, since I’m here on my own, there doesn’t seem to be any point in focusing on that particular aspect of your course, does there? There isn’t anyone here for me to learn to trust…’
‘Yes, there is,’ Daniel told her. ‘There’s me…’
‘You?’ Abruptly Christa pushed her soup bowl away. ‘You expect me to learn to trust you? Never…That would take a miracle…’
‘They have been known to happen,’ he reminded her mildly, after a small
silence.
‘Not this time,’ Christa assured him vehemently. ‘Wait and see!’
‘Besides, learning to trust and to be trusted is an integral part of our course. To know that we can put trust in others and to know that they feel they can trust us increases people’s self-esteem—and in a far more positive and valuable way than the often very lonely self-esteem that comes from professional or financial success.
‘It’s good to know that our work is valued and well rewarded, but it’s even better to know that we ourselves are valued for ourselves.’
Christa listened to his speech with wary cynicism. He was good, she had to give him that; that earnest expression, the way he sat slightly forward towards her, the enthusiasm and conviction in his voice. Oh, yes, he was very good, and she could well understand the appeal such a speech would have to battle-scarred careerists.
‘I’m sorry, I’m getting carried away with my own enthusiasm,’ he apologised, giving her a rueful smile. ‘That’s the worst of being a convert to your own beliefs.’
‘It sounds almost idyllic,’ Christa told him coolly. ‘But man cannot live by self-esteem alone.’
‘Maybe not, but he certainly can’t live without it,’ Daniel shot back. ‘That’s been proved over and over again by any number of studies. Take away a human being’s self-esteem and you turn life into what is merely existence.’
‘You make it sound as though boosting people’s self-esteem is some kind of instant “cure-all” for all their ills,’ Christa told him.
She made her comment mockingly sarcastic, but to her surprise, instead of retaliating to her taunt, Daniel merely said quietly, ‘In many ways I believe it is.
‘When I was fifteen my father was made redundant; three months later he killed himself. He was forty-three and he couldn’t bear the shame of losing his job. The fact that we loved him, that he was a valued and valuable part of our local community, the fact that we needed him, simply wasn’t enough.’