Cathexis (28 page)

“Hey, you're going the wrong way” I shouted. “After all that, it's clearly got a death wish”.

“Don't worry“ she
said, “she's going to Öland”, as if they'd had a conversation.

We sunbathed until the sandbank had all but disappeared and got to our feet as a fan of suds washed around us. From the shore, it must have looked as if we were walking on water. Holding the empty water bottle in front of me like a float, we kicked home, the swim now arduous because of the current, but my legs were strong and grateful. The jetty ladder was several rungs shorter now and Dale slapped my arse as I climbed.

“Skitsnygg” she said.

The modest nature of my swimsuit had left me with a ludicrous tan. Dale's gutter guffaws infectious as I stood before her, seemingly wearing a modest white undergarment.

“I'll find you a bikini for tomorrow” she hooted. “Poor pied Minky”.

Chapter 9

“Pappa, are you there?”
she shouted up the stairs. A muffled acknowledgement issued from the loft. “He's in his dark room” she said.

We peered into the fridge, where three bluey-grey fish lay on a plate, which we ate that evening with potatoes, gherkins and fresh nutty bread. Dale scaled the stairs two at a time, leaving Nils and I in companionable silence. He exhaled an 'aye aye aye', topping up our vodka glasses.

“Are you OK?” I said.

“Yes thank you, I'm only tired, I walked very far today”. About to ask him if he'd taken any good pictures, when he gripped my hand and shook it playfully.

“Very pleased to meet you, Miss Minette”. He seemed a bit pissed but then so was I.

“Likewise” I said.

“You're the first” he began and paused, lost in his thoughts, staring myopically at the little painted fish at the bottom of the gherkin dish. I waited respectfully as he sparked up a Marlboro and tilted the packet at me. Declining, I hastily rolled my own to give his next utterance my full attention.

“She has never brought any of her friends here”. For a second, horrified that he might be under the misconception that we were just friends, but being a sensitive man, he saw it. “Sorry, I mean partners of course” he added kindly and briefly placed his big, old hand over mine.

“Not even Maggie?” I ventured.

“No, I had to go to London to meet her, can you believe it?”

“What was she like, Maggie?” Feigning only a passing interest. Dale had remained uncharacteristically circumspect.

“I don't know” he sighed, “nice enough, I suppose, nice looking, etc, but not in Dale's class in my opinion”.

Naturally I wondered if he'd noticed that I wasn't.

“It's more, how can I put it? It's more how my daughter is. She suffered when her mother died and I guess that has made me a little overprotective”.  He blew a perfect smoke ring without realising and I watched it yawn into a question mark. A hefty thump from upstairs. “Vad har hänt?” he shouted. “Dale?!”.

“Nothing, I just...”, the rest lost. “Tokig”. He shook his head. “Anyway” he continued, “what I'm trying to say is Dale is good with you, no, I mean Dale is good when she is with you. I haven't seen her so happy since she was a little girl. I like it very much. I like you Minette, very much”.

Embarrassingly, a lump lodged in my throat and tears prickled.

“I love Dale very much, sir”. It felt right to say sir.

Dale hammered down the stairs, clutching a green polka dot bikini, skidding to a halt in socks.

“What's going on?” she said, clocking my moist eyes.

“Hell, we all love each other very much, is that not so, eh Minky?” He winked and raised his glass and I smiled collaboratively.

“Oh ...good” she said, bemused.

“Minette” Nils said, drawing himself up dramatically. “The time has come for me to challenge you”,

My face flushed with embedded shame; perhaps he'd twigged that I wasn't in Dale's league after all.

“We will play scrabble” he announced. “I will represent Sweden and you the UK”.

Dale huffed like a teenager “And where will I represent?”

“Narnia” I said and Nils let forth a barrelling brigand's laugh like his daughter's.

“I see” she said, taking mock umbrage. “In that case, I'm going to town to fetch some provisions and you're cooking your chicken thing tomorrow, Mink”.

“Good, be off daughter” Nils said, flicking his hand dismissively.

The Mercedes crept along the gravel. The first time I'd been out of her perigee for days and I followed the receding arc of the headlights as we fished our tiles from the bag. Nils watching me inscrutably. Again, I noticed the source of Dale's eyes. Other than that, she bore little resemblance to him, aside from his big hands. Unlike her dark eyebrows, his were white and wheaty, like mine when I hadn't dyed them.

I formed long, showy words. His game was more strategic, choosing short units but shrewdly covering the bonus squares. As we sorted our last few tiles, it was pretty close, and while I pondered, he topped up my glass.

Genius ...I had it. Extending his 'enigma' with 'tic', incorporating a double word score, I must have won. But no sooner had I totted up my score, he placed a-t-h-e-x-i-s under the c, taking in a triple word score and an ‘x’ worth eight, plus a bonus of fifty for using all his tiles.

“Cathexis?” I snorted. “I'm challenging, that's not a word”.

“Which dictionary do you favour?” he said, dabbing at the laptop. “See for yourself”, swivelling the screen.

“ca-thex-is: concentration of emotional libidinal energy on an object, idea or person, from Greek kathexis, meaning holding, to hold fast”.

“Crikey” I said, “you'd think I’d have heard of that. You beat me, fair and square”.

“You'll win next time” he said, studying the board.

Wondering about Dale, I gnawed a cuticle.

“I hope she's OK, she's been gone ages”.

“She's probably met someone she knows” he replied. “Would you like to play again?”

“No thanks, maybe tomorrow” I said, moving towards the window. The night so emphatic that as you stared into the cosmos, you realised the stars you could see were merely indicators of a more complex arrangement, vast and mind blowing. Perhaps we were only permitted to perceive so little of it, in case we went mad with loneliness. But then in the distance, a glow. Please make it be Dale. The headlights swung into the driveway, briefly capturing me in the window.

“She's back!” I shouted over-enthusiastically as I skipped to the front door.

“Did you win?” She kissed me.

“No” I said, taking the bags.

“Let's go to the boat house” she whispered. “I've got a surprise”.

The little blue horse spun in accord with my head. The morning bright, but no Dale. Double doors spread wide to the sea. Nestling into the blue gingham, I dragged a pillow over my head, my smarting coco recalling a night of abandon. It had begun with the small polythene baggy she had waved under my nose, like a wicked, white souvenir. My hand raking
over cassettes of Abba, Lou Reed, The Carpenters and Led Zep before plumping for X-Ray Spex, to which we windmilled our arms. Fuck me, the world had indeed turned day-glo. There had also been schnapps and red wine, the thought of which sent a roiling flood of saliva into my mouth, forcing me to sit up and calculate if I could make it to the hatch in the floor before my stomach cottoned on. Thankfully, the nauseous groundswell subsided and a sea-fresh Dale stalked along the jetty as if it were a catwalk, dripping silver and diamonds, hair windswept and winnowed.

How she had laughed at mine, and I, the word for it: 'knullrufs', meaning the way one's hair is messed up after sex. Trust the Swedes to be so specific.

“Hey Minky” she said in silhouette. “How's my girl?” I could only manage a sort of deflating sound.

“Hmm, baksälla” she said. “I'll put some coffee on”.

Faces inches apart. Dale and I on the sandbank, heads resting on arms, just looking at each other. The single most harmonious moment of my life.

“Look at your hair, it's going blonde at the ends”. I pulled a ringlet almost straight. It sprang back, headstrong.

“What about you” she said, “you're almost white ...and your eyebrows, you look proper Scandy”.

Propping herself on her elbows, the silver star swung in space and she reclined on her back, the hint of a six-pack on her toasted stomach. I pressed my lips there.

“I'm glad you've put some weight on” she said.

“What do you mean?” I said defensively.

“Oh come on, Mink, don't go all funny. You were just the right side of emaciated when I met you”.

I approved of this assessment. “And now, look at you, strong and muscly” she said, grabbing my thigh. “Plus your tits are bigger, you're in good shape”.

I had mixed feelings, although I certainly didn't get so tired these days.

“I wish we could stay here” I said.

“We can. I have a five year plan, but it's kind of arbitrary now”.

“Explain?”

“Well, I've always wanted to live here, but I knew I'd have no chance of finding 'the one' so I stayed in London because I knew she'd be there”.

I remained silent and pursing my lips against my arm, blew out my cheeks and made a fat raspberry. “Anyway” she continued, “now I've found her, it can be a four year plan, or three or two if she wants”. I squinted at the sand, fascinated by the grains of mica and quartz. She rolled against me, her dry, hot body pressing the length of mine.

“Minky” she sang, “are you hearing me?”  I nodded and she ran her hand with difficulty through my crispy hair. “You are the love of my life Mink and I want to be with you for the rest of it”.

A tear rolled down my cheek and negotiated the fine, white hairs on my arm before dropping to the sand.

“Why are you crying, silly?”

“Because I believe you”. 

Chapter 10

My chicken, ginger and cashew signature dish had gone down well.

“I could eat that every day” Nils had said and as we cleared away the dishes, I sent Dale a mental shout, 'boat house now!'

“Perhaps a return game?” Nils rattling the scrabble box. Dale had responded in Swedish, something patient but firm.

“Vad som helst”
he'd said, turning to his laptop rather morosely.

An overwhelming desire to draw her. And now she was before me, naked, my pencils describing her contours, the light from the paraffin lamp casting slabs of dark Dale across the bed, burnishing hair, hip and haunch. My emotion, pride, as I smudged her pubic hair with my little finger and dragged shadows under her breasts. Pride in my beautiful woman and pride in my own ability to reproduce her with unique and intimate know how. I felt myself falling for the picture, not necessarily because of its subject, but because I always fell for my own work if it was good; perhaps the only time I loved myself and I remembered that word cathexis.

Dale studied the drawing. “Wow” she said. I posed her in the doorway, this time fully clothed in profile, looking at the sea. An excellent model, remaining motionless for an hour.  This was all I ever needed. Despite having fallen for this picture too, I resolved to give it to Nils. I sat on the threshold facing the wind and stars, luxuriating in the afterglow of creation. Dale shunted up behind me, hugging my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder. I regarded her Blundstones next to my knees.