Cathexis by Josie Clay Page B

still had to let myself in the basement when the Saab pulled up. Nancy hurrying towards me up the steps, fists above her head, roaring a silent yes in triumph and jubilation. Apparently, this was not all about me; she'd just completed her final ‘Focus and Motivate’ session, leaving her animated and hyper, which pleased me as it meant she would have lots of energy.
     
    We kissed in the hallway, long, fat tongued lunges and placed our hands over each others' hearts, seemingly in an act of devotion, but I wondered if Nancy's motive was akin to mine - to check if she still thundered in the same way she always had when we kissed...she did.
     
    “Come” she said, leading me by the hand to the bedroom as usual. She pushed me down on the bed playfully and reaching under it, placed a thick, yellow carrier bag on the duvet.
     
    “Do you love me, Minette?”
     

I sensed a test. “Yes”.
     
    “Do you trust me?”
     
    “...yes”. The upward inflection betrayed me.
     
    “How far would you go for me?”
     
    I thought about it.
     
    “At least to Nottingham” I said earnestly. She snorted and clouted me with a pillow.
     
    “I'd like to try something different”, her mouth spread in a salacious grin.
     
    “You don't want to whip me do you?” Picking at a callus in trepidation.
     
    “No...” she smiled, “Not today anyway”. Her eyes fell to the yellow bag, inferring I should open it. I pulled out a black, foam block and tugged at the zip that ran around three sides.
     
    “Oh ...my ...God” I said, as a silver camcorder dropped onto the duvet. “Absolutely no way”. My hands in a warding off gesture. But there was that grin again. She moved to the wardrobe and withdrew an assemblage of sticks, which hinged into a tripod.
     
    “No, Nancy, I'm sorry, I can't do it”, shaking my head emphatically.
     
    “I know, I know, it's pervy as you would say, but it's just for me, so I can see you when you're not here”.
     
    “No, Nancy, I can't bear the thought of my stupid faced being filmed in the throes of sex”.
     
    “It's not your stupid face I'd be filming, stupid” she said, kissing me all over my stupid face.
     
    “I can't”.
     
    “Yes, you can. You’re a very beautiful woman, Minette, you have a fantastic body and you must do it for me, for us, for when we're old and saggy so we can see how exquisite we were”.
     
    “I really can't imagine wanting to see that when I'm in my forties. Anyway, you may be exquisite, but I'm not. Plus, the whole point of sex is that you lose yourself. If I'm hyper aware, it won't work. And supposing Todor finds it – or the children”. I was clutching at straws.
     
    “Nobody will find it”. She straddled my lap and ran her thumbs over my nipples, letting her hair engulf my face.
     
    “Come on darling, please ...for me” she whispered.
     
    “Well” I said, exhaling ostentatiously. “I'm going to have to get very drunk then ...but I'm not promising anything”.
     
    “Stay there, I'll get some booze” she said, sprinting off down the stairs.
     
    Mulling the idea over, I remained horrified. Eyeing the tripod sceptically, I nudged it with my toe. I examined the camera, turned it on and pinched off the plastic lens cap, which dangled from a cord and peered through the viewfinder, noting the fully charged battery sign; she had prepared.
     
    Panning across the room, a brief blur while the autofocus kicked in. There was me, sitting cross legged on the bed, reflected in the wardrobe mirror, autofocus sighing as I zoomed in on my face. The top of the tree outside the window, the sky blue today. There were my boots, casually kicked off on the floor by the door. I really loved them, they were Blundstones. And here was Nancy, standing in the doorway, holding two hi-ball glasses and a bottle of schnapps, autofocus wheezing as I captured her dirty mouth. She poured a copious amount of schnapps into each glass.
     
    “Down your hatch” she cried and knocked