Follow the Butterfly by Martta Kaukonen

Author:Martta Kaukonen [Hackston, David & Kaukonen, Martta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: \
Published: 2024-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Arto

I’d been typing up a new version of Clarissa’s interview until the early hours. Eventually it was ready, and I sent it to Irmeli first thing in the morning. Soon afterwards, my phone rang.

‘Arto, you’re a genius! What kind of truth serum did you give her?’

I smiled to myself contentedly. The interview was damn good, even if I did say so myself.

‘I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you ask Clarissa to show the readers the contents of her wardrobe? We could add a couple of pages after the main interview under the title A Psychoanalyst’s Colour Analysis.’

‘I’ll call her right away and see if she’s up for it.’

Clarissa seemed only too aware of her own powers of attraction, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if she’d agreed to model the clothes herself. The proverb that beauty sabotaged common sense didn’t apply to her. When I married Marja, I’d imagined I was specifically marrying beauty. How bitterly wrong I was!

I was keen to get the interview finished so I could put Clarissa behind me.

The more I’d got to know her, the greater the dislike I felt towards her. It was hard to imagine how she could ever resolve her patients’ problems—she hadn’t even been able to get her own drinking under control.

But to be honest, there were other reasons why I’d found Clarissa’s company so repellent. When she lectured me about the link between sexual abuse and eating disorders, I found it so distressing that my brow broke out in beads of sweat. I squirmed in my chair, wondering how I might subtly change the subject. I’d been trying not to listen to her and to focus instead on the conversation of the women drinking coffee at the next table.

I was afraid Clarissa could read my expressions and gestures, that she could tell what I was thinking. She would have shuddered with disgust if she’d discovered the truth about me.

My muscles had been so tensed with guilt that it wasn’t long before a migraine informed me of its imminent arrival.

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