Fonding and Permission Finale

"Just wanted to say good night."

"Oh ..." His father's voice was still heavy with sleep. "Well, good night, then ...!"

Felix was already in the hall when he heard him speak again.

"There was another phone call for you."

"Oh ..." Felix stopped. "Who was it?"

"I forget her name. Someone from your year. She said she'd text you ... very polite and articulate, I thought."

"Ah," Felix said innocently, contriving to sound calm and sleepy himself as a conjecture woke his pulse. "Well ... thanks! ... And good night."

"Good night."

His heart thumped as he sped up the stairs, entered his room, picked up the phone he had left there and waited for it to start.

'Two missed calls. One new message.'

He opened the latter, feeling a stab of unease despite everything ... She had not written "close shave" this time, but he couldn't help thinking it would have been fitting.

Hey Felix,

Sorry for taking so long to answer. I saw Dr. Ebrahimi this morning. It looks like I've caught penumbra of all things. She says you're probably fine, but should do a test if you feel ill. The main takeaway was that we can't meet for a week without putting you at serious risk, because it hits men harder. Believe our luck if you can -_-

Love, Tessy

***

'So what if I botch it,' she thought. 'Just go for it, or you'll regret not having tried.'

Theresa tossed up to her left, spun anticlockwise, reached up on tiptoe and sliced the back of the racquet diagonally over the ball with all the resolve she could muster.

She knew she had struck gold before seeing it and completed her turn in time to watch the serve skim the net and curl, unreachably short, onto the right sideline. The mutters that had begun at her motion's departure from orthodoxy exploded into a chorus of whoops, cheers and laughter.

"Qu'est-ce que fuck ..."

Theresa tried not to snigger at her opponent's astonished disgust. She walked forward, palms raised in apology. "Sorry," she said, grinning. "Couldn't resist."

"How the hell d'you do that?" He was looking at her with bewildered fascination. "Overhead backhand ace ..."

"Badly, mostly," she said. "Well fought!" She stood back and held out her racquet a little awkwardly. "I'd hug, but I'm getting over penumbra, so ..."

"Never mind," he said ruefully, tapping it with his own. "Thought I had your one-hander covered to start with."

"You did," she said.

"You were killing those high backhands at the end."

"Thanks. I don't know how I flipped it."

She stopped at the bench for a quick gulp of water, then gathered her things together and walked off court, quietly thrilled at her first official match win of the season. No-one had given her a chance against the men with her single-hander.

"Sick finish, Tessa." That was team captain Jessica, leading the courtside cheers.

"Thanks," said Theresa. "Had to mix it up ... I'm still too tired to run much."

"Remember how she wasn't even going to show up?" That was Eglantyne.

"Yeah," Jess chimed in. "There we were, thinking you were bedridden."

"I was."

"Thought you were down and out after the first set ... I reckon he thought the same ... Clever tactic, girl."

"Like I said," said Eglantyne. "Never count her out."

Theresa smiled at her. "So what's the score overall?"

"4-2 with your win. One doubles and it's in the bag."

"Okay ..." She reached for her phone surreptitiously. "Have you lot decided on pairings?"

"We were saying you and Doug to play second."

"Tessa and you, Jess!" That was Doug. "We said Barnie and me first."

"We as in Doug," said Jessica acidly.

"I can't partner Doug," Theresa pointed out. "Remember penumbra and men?"

"Oh, yeah," Jessica grumbled. "Sod it."

"See, Jess? She'll kill me."

"Might help your game, Doug," said Jessica.

"Tessa could play with Jules."

"If Jules can get her act together after that double bagel."

"Where's she gone anyway?"

"Sulking in the loo, I think."

Theresa stood a little apart from the knot and allowed herself to be slotted back and forth as Jessica and Doug vied for supremacy. They'd sort it out. She would play anyone with anyone. What did it matter? For the moment, her mind was elsewhere. Her body had held up. The test had been passed. Now, how about a little understatement to take off the pressure? She began to type a message:

Hey Felix,

I think I'm slowly but surely convalescing. If you feel good about your health and don't mind a low-key bedside visit, you'll find me alive (but not necessarily kicking) at 16 Summer Drive. My voice is back anyway. Come whenever you want to. Just let me know you're on your way.

Love you, Tessy

***

The road was in disrepair and lined with tall, drab blocks of flats. The occasional shard of glass crunched under Felix's shoes as he walked up the pavement and trash littered the narrow strips of greenery that stood in for front gardens. The deepening dusk hid some of the dereliction but not the smell of stale beer (and vice versa, he thought) that clung to the low walls and gutters.

Number 16 in no way stood out from its surroundings. Rather, it had been squeezed to a demure width by the frowning overbearance of 14 and 18. Felix walked up to a tall, dark porch and, finding no nameplates next to the various bells, turned the knob. The door opened with a predictable drawn-out squeal that echoed up what sounded like several floors of enclosed space. Blackness lay before him. He found no light switch in any of the obvious places, so he felt his way along a dozen yards of corridor to the foot of a rickety staircase. He began to make his way up, checking any doors he passed for a sign of who, if anyone, lived behind them. There were nameplates here, but they were mostly empty. He began to doubt he was in the right house. He had reached the highest landing, found nothing but a couple of attics, and was about to reread her message and check whether he had misread the address, when he saw light pour into the stairwell below and heard a quiet call.

"Hello?"

"Yes?"

"Is that Felix?"

"Tessy?"

There was a little chuckle.

Felix frowned slightly. "I'm coming down," he said.

He began to descend. Something about the voice had sounded familiar, but he was sure it wasn't Theresa's. He reached the right floor to find a door open and a woman of about his age standing in front of it looking about, one side of her weakly illuminated from within. Her hair was black and much shorter than his own, let alone Theresa's. Her face was hard to discern in the sideways light.

"Hi," she said, extending a hand. "I'm Tanja."

"Hi," he said, shaking it and noting the German pronunciation. "I'm Felix ... Are you Theresa's cousin?"

"Yup." She grinned. "Come in." She examined him. "Have we met?"

He looked back at her. "I had a funny feeling too ..."

"Well ... never mind." She laughed.

"Is Theresa in?"

"Yup, she's in bed."

"Ought to be."

Tanja spun round. Theresa had noiselessly stepped into view behind her.

"Hey Felix ... Thanks for coming."

She spoke quietly, perhaps to protect her healing throat. She was wearing long, grey pyjamas, a scarf, thick socks and a wry smile that brightened briefly as it met his own. He thought her eyes looked tired and feverish. His jostling queue of questions dispersed politely at the sight of her and the memory and fantasy of Julia tried to squirm out of existence. Tanja, too, had melted away.

"Hey Tessy." He stepped forward half-raising his arms. "How's penumbra?"

"Better," she said, grimacing. "I should be through. Be careful, though," she added as he opened his arms.

"This is worth the risk," he said as she let him hug her. "Trust me." He repeated the last two words quietly, hoping to give them extra context.

Her own arms closed gingerly around him, then seemed to gain confidence and tightened. He felt his doubt in her shrink. Yes, this brittle girl had put those naked photos somewhere. Perhaps she had given it more thought than he. He found it hard to imagine her being thoughtless just now. As long as she knew what she was doing, it was up to her ... He massaged her back gently through the pyjama top, trying to encourage her circulation. His fingers caught on something. Bra straps. 'Not now,' he thought modestly. 'Not in this state.'

But he put his lips to her cheek. She hesitated at the suggestion, perhaps again considering the health risks, then turned her head and gave him a peck on the mouth before settling back into his embrace with a chuckle. Half a minute passed.

"Want to sit somewhere?" she asked eventually. She was still speaking quietly.

He nodded and followed her into to her room.

"Anywhere you want," she said, closing the door behind them. "Chair, bed, ... carpet."

He chose the edge of the bed.

"Mind if I get back in?" she asked.

"It's your bed," he said. "And health."

"Thanks ... Just seems odd with a guest."

"Well, pretend I'm family."

They beamed at each other as she lay back down.

Felix looked about. It was not a large room but somehow neither overcrowded nor missing any essentials. The colours were warm and light, the walls painted a subdued shade of peach. Opposite the door, a French window opened to a little balcony, a desk and shelves on one side of it and a cello, telescope and tennis racquets leaning against the wall on the other. Flakes of paint had fallen from the window frame and a few cobwebs adorned the walls near the ceiling, but none of this interfered with his immediate sense of comfort. If anything, the imperfection felt like a home for his own.

He recognised the bedstead, the wallpaper and the scarf she was wearing. But he did not feel like saying so just now. Perhaps better, after all, to wait until her immune system was back on track before raising the subject ...

He realised she was watching his interest with plenty of her own and half expected her to ask for his opinion of her room. But she said nothing and when he looked back at her, she merely smiled at his questioning gaze and then lowered her eyes in an uncharacteristic demure gesture. The silence seemed to prickle a little.

"This is nice," he ventured a little feebly.

"I like it too."

"You'd never guess from the outside."

"I know ... it's a pretty run-down area."

He was about to ask why she had chosen the flat, but checked himself. Maybe she couldn't afford better ... or what some would call better.

"We just wanted somewhere cheap," she said, perhaps guessing his thoughts.

"You're not a big spender either?"

"No ... I know it sounds a bit hollow with that stuff standing around." She gestured at the instruments by the window. "But they're the exception. I'm not your compulsive shopper girl."

"Nor me."

"I'd sort of got there," she said slyly.

Felix sensed that despite the apparent ease of their small talk, she was as apprehensive of the silence as himself. Wasn't that a test of trust? Not having to talk when there was nothing to say? He thought back to their night in the Bear's Cave. They had coped without words for a long while there ... But it felt like a fairy tale he had read, something too perfect for the two nervous people sharing this small room with an elephant. There was too much to say now.

"I've been wondering why I got ill," she said with a sudden seriousness.

"We were pretty reckless in the cold," he pointed out. "I hope it was worth it for you."

She nodded and her eyes shone for a moment. "I didn't want to go home without ... you know ... some sort of good time ... I hope you didn't feel hard done by."

Felix shook and bowed his head and his voice was a little shrill when he answered. "It was mind-blowing."

"It was," she said in a low voice, but he heard elation underneath. "And body-blowing."

They looked each other in the eye and both laughed. The elephant seemed to shuffle to one side. Felix felt his chest balloon. To think she had been nothing but a classmate to him a month ago. Now she had let him kiss her between the legs and was happy to reminisce about it with him ...

"But that's sort of the point," she went on after a moment. "I was hoping our health would benefit ... But I think there's something I overlooked."

Felix reined in his smile a little and looked at her steadily. "What are you thinking of?"

"Stress," she said simply, meeting his eye unflinchingly.

He searched for any sign of panic or fear in hers, but saw only determined honesty. He nodded. "I know," he said. "I felt close to falling ill myself. ... But I think I've got a handle on my stress now."

"You had it too?" she asked, her tone light but her face grave. She was flicking the scarf back and forth like a cat's tail. He decided to take it as a signal.

"A bit." He chuckled tensely. "Maybe for the same reason."

She lay back and looked at the ceiling, then seemed to make up her mind and spoke. "I think you're right." Her features were trembling a little, then found a resigned half-grin. "What do you suspect?"

"Something related to the scarf round your neck?" he ventured, mirroring her expression as cheerfully as he could.

She blushed, then gave a couple of quick nods, took a deep breath, closed her eyes and said, "Fonding and permission."

She reopened them. They looked at each other and suddenly smiled simultaneously.

"Breakthrough," Felix said, heaving a loud sigh. He found that he was struggling not to laugh. Then he gave in.

And it seemed that all of a sudden there was a lot to laugh about, enough to keep them going for minutes, that days' worth of pent-up laughter had broken free and was redeeming them both for the wait. Felix sagged sideways onto the duvet she had drawn over herself and lay there, his head resting somewhere on her quaking belly. She tried to say something, but her voice rose and was lost like a feather on a gale. He still had questions himself but found himself unable to do any better. But he realised that once he could speak again he would no longer be afraid to ask them, because she would be unafraid to answer. And when her bout subsided, her body felt deeply relaxed beneath him. Finally, she spoke, her voice soft again now.

"Felix, I'm sorry I said nothing--"

"It's okay," he interjected quickly.

"I just wasn't sure how and I didn't want to botch it."

"Same here. I should have talked earlier too."

"I think it was on me. I started it ... I guess you've been wondering why."

"Well, yes," he admitted. "I wondered why you took the risk and ... who else was involved and ..." He found he had trouble remembering all his questions. Some of them seemed less important now. "I'd just love to hear the whole story," he said.

"The story of this scarf?" she said.

"If that's the same thing."

"It is," she said. "Well, are you comfortable? This could take a while."

"If you don't mind my head on you."

"I'm happy with that."

"And if you want to know anything yourself ..." Felix began.

"I'll ask," she promised. "But first things first. Where to start? ... Calella, I suppose."

"Our final school trip?" He raised his eyebrows, remembering her words to Alice in the library.

"Mhm ... I don't suppose you remember I didn't show up for the barbecue?"

"I do, now you mention it. I think a few of us missed you."

"Did you?" She looked at him in surprise. "Ha! Well, if I'd known, maybe none of this would ever have happened ... Anyway. Remember what you asked me in the Bear's Cave?"

"Lots, I think."

"You asked me one question where I started talking about changing and showering."

"Yes," he said slowly. "I think you mentioned unspecified other things."

"Yes, I did. And you're going to hear some of them now. If you want to."

"I do."

She laughed at his frankness. "All right." She took a deep breath. "So, remember how I never did parties and would always opt out of all kinds of trouble?"

"Yes. You were half the teachers' pet. Not that I can talk ..."

"Well, that sort of softened in Calella. I think it was partly that half the year was blind drunk from the get-go and the whole trip was a patchwork of cock-ups. Like that thing with Robbie."

"I feel like 'that thing with Robbie'in no way narrows down the list."

"Fair point. But remember him and Bridget swapping swimwear at the beach?"

"Oh yes ... How did that end again?"

"Well, they lost each other in town later, so he tried to hitch-hike to the hotel but his Spanish wasn't up to it and he was halfway to Barcelona before he realised something was wrong. He managed to get a lift back to Calella, but by the time he'd found the hotel, he couldn't get past the lounge because everyone was asleep and he'd lost his room key. So he decided the receptionist's desk would do."

"Oh ... do I remember the manager looking grim?"

"You do. Someone woke her at six in the morning to say Senor Receptionist was asleep on duty in a bikini."

"Damn, I almost miss Robbie."

"Hear, hear! ... Anyway, all that stuff set the tone. Toeing lines felt like a lost cause. The others seemed to be having fun all day and I started to feel I was depriving myself for no good reason. But I still felt reluctant to let go with you all around. I guess that's why I gave the barbecue a miss ... So I went to my room and showered and changed --ha-- and tried to go to bed, but was too full of energy. So I went out."

"Back to the beach?"

"No. Just to the balcony. I could hear you below."

"So you were with us but weren't?"

"In a way ... But you'd know if you'd seen me."

"How come?"

"Well, I'd have stood out a bit in my negligée."

"Sorry, but what exactly is that?" He had a vague notion of transparent folds.

"Like a really thin nightgown. Except mine's thinner. It's in the wardrobe if you want a look."

Felix got up and opened it. He spotted the dappled brown tunic that had caught his eye in art class.

"Should be hanging near the right end," she said.

"This?" he asked, lifting a sleeve for her to see.

"Mhm."

He cautiously took it out and inspected it, held it up to the light, which shone through it almost undimmed, then turned to face her, grinned at her through it and saw her grin back.

"I think I've got a solid idea what you look like in this," he said. "Was there anything under it?"

"Nothing you wouldn't recognise."

"I see," he said, laughing with her, then lay back down on her midriff. "Or I'd like to ..."

He made to look at her, but at that moment there was a knock on the door and they heard Tanja speak beyond it. Felix resisted an urge to get up.

"Teeza?"

"Yep?"

"Can I come in? I've got your tea."

"Oh ... yes, please."

Tanja entered, carrying a steaming mug on a saucer and put it down on the bedside table. "I've let it cool a little." Where on Earth had he seen her face before?

"Thanks." Theresa had sat up in bed and took a gulp before putting the mug back on it's saucer.

"Night, night."

And Tanja closed the door. Felix thought he saw a smirk at the last moment. But the mention of night had raised a new question.

"Er-- where can I ... I mean, how long can I stay?"

"I can put you up," Theresa said kindly. "There's a sofa of sorts in the living room, if you don't want the germs ... But it's pretty narrow and rickety."

Had he got her drift? "Where would you put me," he asked, feeling his pulse rise, "if I prefer germs to rickets?"

"Oh," she said with an air of innocent surprise. "Well ... we haven't got an extra mattress ... and Tanja doesn't usually share beds with men ... So you'd have to squeeze in somewhere here when the time comes."

He felt her pat the bed by her side and suppressed a smile. "No problem," he said gallantly. 'No problem' indeed ... "Understatement of the year," he added under his breath, unable to stop himself.