What the hell was that?
I don’t need a PhD in psychology to know that dreams shouldn’t be taken literally. I don’tactuallywant to have shower sex with Mark. I was stuck in Yan’s bathroom with him on Wednesday, and he talked about taking a long shower at dinner.
Mark probably represents general male energy, so the dream is telling me something about Rich. It makes sense. After the horrible shock of what Rich did, this is an attempt by mysubconscious to remind me that I’m desirable and attractive and that better times are around the corner. Better times that include fulfilling sex, which, admittedly, has been lacking recently.
Sitting down, I pull my baggy sleep tee away from my neck to get some air. But the tented cotton slides against my breasts like a lover’s caress and it jerks me back to standing again.
I exhale slowly and try to think unsexy thoughts.
Genital warts. Pubic lice. Herpes blisters.
I picture the vividly illustrated leaflets we have at the clinic. They’re enough to put you off sex for life.
After a couple of minutes, I climb into bed. But every time I close my eyes, all I can see are Mark’s impatient fingers pressing into my skin, and all I can hear is the wet slap of our bodies.
I give up and surrender to the images, unsure if I’ll be relieved or disappointed if there isn’t a second act.
Mum is already up when I come down at seven-thirty. I’m grumpy from lack of sleep, and sexually frustrated, and on top of everything, my ten o’clock has cancelled which means I could have stayed in bed an extra hour.
Mum’s hard-boiling an egg and asks if I want one.
‘I’m good, thanks.’
She turns back to the hob. ‘Anthi rang to thank us for last night. She liked seeing you, darling. It reminds her of happier times with Leo.’
I try to ignore the guilt that pools in my stomach. ‘That’s nice.’
‘She’d love for you to visit her sometimes. I’ve got her address if you want it.’
I’m about to say, ‘Sure’, but I stop myself. Why hide how I feel about this?
‘I try not to think too much about Leo.’
‘Of course, darling. It hit you very hard when he died.’
I move to the opposite counter to put a physical distance between me and this conversation.
She takes the hint. ‘Mark is moving to Venezuela. Did you know?’
‘Yan mentioned it.’
She swipes her phone. ‘I looked it up. Listen to what it says here: Do not travel to Venezuela due to crime, civil unrest, kidnapping, wrongful detentions, terrorism and poor health infrastructure.’
She puts her phone down again.
‘Anthi is very worried. She kept asking me why is he always chasing excitement?’
‘Sounds hellish to me, but in his defence he’s going over to help improve their hospitals.’
‘He had to have anti-kidnapping training. They take a lot of hostages in Crackers.’
Crackers?
‘I think you mean Caracas, Mum.’
‘Anthi’s terrified he’ll get captured and the kidnappers will send his body back to her bit-by-bit in the post.’
She crosses herself three times.
