Cathexis by Josie Clay Page A

groaned in a sequence of baritone expletives, rising to soprano as I came, colossally.
     
    “Very melodious” she said, pleased with her composition.
     
    The chirping muddle of dawn
,
then muted light. Her face pulled into focus on the pillow, regarding me in green fields.
     
    “You snore” she said. A sleep plumped smile for me which met my lips, my only opportunity to besiege her body in the night squandered, out so cold, oblivious to the warmth beside me
,
but happy at least to have woken to her petals and tangles. I took refuge in the canopy of curls. I'd always have this morning.
     
     
    Chapter 12
     
    Todor and the children returned and things had to change. I couldn't visit her in the mornings anymore and we had nowhere to go; our affair became tortuous and hard to steer. We found ourselves in a series of difficult situations, at best uncomfortable, at worst untenable, but mostly somewhere in between. It was thus.
     
    Side by side like conjoined twins in front of the kitchen sink, peeling potatoes and looking out on the garden I'd made for her. The children behind us, Sasha colouring at the breakfast bar, Nikolai on the floor, crashing his cars. Her shoulder and hip lower than mine. Briefly, she inclined her head so that her hair grasped at my arm.
     
    “Mummy” enquired Sasha slyly. “Are you going to kiss Nette?”
     
    Nikolai cracked a munchkin giggle.
     
    “Nette kiss Mummy, Nette kiss Mummy!” he chanted. Sasha joined in, hammering her fist on the breakfast bar.
     
    Camped on the enormous sofa watching 'Charlotte's Web', Nancy covertly holding my hand under her thigh. My arm around Sasha and Nancy cuddling Nikolai.
     
    “Nette?”
     
    “Yes, Sasha”.
     
    “I think you guys are the same”.
     
    A Sunday afternoon in a pub in Primrose Hill. Todor had the children at home. Nancy with my hand under the table moved in to kiss me
.
     
    “Don't” I warned, but it was too late. We'd caught the attention of a group of rugby players who sent forth a labrador puppy as a sweetener. Nancy hugged him, delighted. She liked dogs. One of them drew up his sweat pants over his maturing paunch and sauntered over, clumsy and excitable in much the same way as the puppy.
     
    “Is he yours?” Nancy said. “He's adorable.”
     
    The man hunkered down.
     
    “So are you” he said, swinging his heavy arm around her shoulders. She looked at me pointedly, humouring him, until he placed his meaty paw on her thigh and ran it towards her body, pulling back her skirt as it went. She froze.
     
    “Don't touch her” I said calmly.
     
    He looked at Nancy for confirmation. Moving her leg away, she smoothed her skirt.
     
    “Take your hands off her” I said, now with menace.
     
    Withdrawing his arm, he gathered himself to his full height.
     
    “Fucking dykes” he spat contemptuously. “Come on Snipe”, retrieving the puppy. He was posh.
     
    Locked in the bathroom, mouths locked. The children in Nikolai's room pawing over Pokémon. Nancy rubbing me and pushing inside me. The front door clattered open.
     
    “Where is everyone?” Todor shouted.
     
    At 'Bo Peeps', a lesbian bar in Islington, unable to converse over the U-boat music. Opposite us, a rotund geezer bird was devouring a fake tan femme. We didn't belong here.
     
    Fucking each other awkwardly in the Saab, we'd ended up at Alexandra Palace. The face of an Asian man at the rear window watching us. Nancy fired up the engine and reversed, the tyres spitting up gravel before we lurched off, unsure if we'd run him over.
     
                                                                                                                                                         Chapter 13
     
    Message. Read now?
     
    “Give me tomorrow afternoon darling. Please x”.
     
    Debating whether to use the keys I