Fonding and Permission Finale

Felix supposed it was Dr. Mason's job to say this. He doubted she believed it herself. When it came to history exams, the art college's creativity ended at reshuffling old questions, so past papers were sufficient reading for a pass and had become the inofficial script, handed down from one student generation to the next. He was still attending the lecture on the off chance that things would be different this year. Theresa had also noticed that Dr. Mason's eyes seemed to anchor on the two of them as she spoke. Perhaps it was their reward for being the only ones who showed much interest. Neither of them had the heart to snub her. The only other students present today were Jennifer, Anthony, Siobhan and Tanushree. Six people were a new record low.

"Regardless," said Dr. Mason. "Since this is our penultimate lecture before your exam, I would like to devote today to summarising what you ought to have learnt over the course of the past ten months. That is, we will go through the development of art from prehistory via Greco-Roman antiquity, early medieval and Renaissance art to the multifaceted and highly dynamic modern age."

Felix looked at Tanushree, wondering how she felt about the Western perspective. He was faintly bothered by it himself. He had written to Dr. Mason at one point to suggest a global view, but neglected to pursue the matter further. Tanushree simply looked bored.

The noon sun was falling through the open window behind them. He felt the heat on the back of his neck. He thought his skin must be reddening by the second. Theresa's, on the other hand, looked almost painfully bright in the glare.

"I need more hair," he murmured. "My nape's getting scorched."

Theresa seemed to awake to her own situation at his words. She felt her neck, turned round, frowned at the sun or the lack of blinds, looked about the classroom and seemed to come to a conclusion "I think," she said quietly, reaching up to her bun. "it's time for exceptional measures."

"Er ..." Felix had suddenly realised what was about to happen. Anthony Summerdale was sitting right behind them and was about to see Harvest Maiden's hair revealed on Theresa's head for the first time. What was more, he'd have an hour and a half to observe and ponder it.

"Hm?" She had begun to undo the bun, but slowed down at his interruption.

"Maybe just take my coat," he suggested, wondering whether he was being paranoid.

"It's far too hot."

"Or let's just move."

"Why? It's only four people."

He lowered his voice, bent close to her and muttered, "There are men about, though."

She stopped entirely. "One man," she whispered back, glancing furtively at Anthony. "Come on, how likely is it that he ... knows?" She had long since told Felix the tale of the sticker but he had never shared his discovery that Anthony had found her website.

"I ..." he was lost for words. If he said what he knew, she would forever be tense around Anthony. But how else could he persuade her not to show hair? He felt a rising panic. "He strikes me as the type who might," he said desperately, trying not to sound ridiculous.

She looked at him with no little astonishment. "Why?"

"I ... can't quite explain. It's just a feeling."

She gave him a rare look of stern doubt. He felt both deeply frustrated and amused. He was making a fool of himself in front of her to protect her peace of mind. It was at once condescending, self-harming, noble and dishonest. He began to laugh. "Masculine intuition," he joked to excuse it.

She stared at him. "Ok," she said. "You've unnerved me. I'll go with your call." She shook her head with an irritated laugh as she refastened the bun she had begun to undo. "Can I have your coat then?"

He handed it to her at once. "Sorry," he said, struggling to regain his composure.

She was still looking at him directly, almost fiercely. "You haven't given it away have you?"

"No!" he said seriously, looking her straight in the eye. He knew it was the truth, but feared she would read the white lie of a moment ago in his face and mistake it for a black one. But she seemed to relax. Thank goodness ...

Felix sat there, wondering whether to say any more. How to combine honesty with secrecy? He tried to keep his expression focussed on Dr. Mason, not let on how close the call had been. Eventually, he turned back in her direction and half-opened his mouth, then closed it and said nothing. No, this was the wrong moment. If he wanted her suspicion of Anthony to sleep, he had to put time between this moment and his question.

***

Felix and Julia like each other.

Theresa looked at the sentence she had just put in her diary. There it was, bold as brass, and yet not bold enough. The biro in her hand still felt full of words, stronger words, that ached to get out. She wanted to make them her own, take control of them. A moment later she was writing at speed.

Julia stripped to her knickers for Felix. She let him see her breasts. Just like that. I should have guessed when he gave me the TittyKitty for my birthday. She always wears one to tennis. She wanted Felix to see her naked. She wanted to get dirty with him. Would she now, given the chance? I bet she would. She's still single.

And he'd struggle again. He's not after other women in general. He's a frugal sort, hates gluttony. But he likes her. He likes her natural, blunt straighforwardness. And her body. What did he say? "Other women don't magically turn ugly because I love you." He said he wanted to comfort her, hug her, kiss her all over. He likes playing out that moment in his mind. Not just that. He sometimes touches himself to the thought of Cassie as well. I guess every boy in our year does, then ...

Can I complain? I've done far more than Felix. He says I can do what I want and it's not like I don't. I still dream of Fernando's cock getting back inside me. I still wish I'd let David do more than fondle. I know he wanted to, even though he had trouble telling me. I was scared to let him get too attached. He gets to watch my videos on Fonding. Maybe that's enough. Felix was pretty cool about it when I told him about the 'inner' members area. I was scared he'd be hurt I hadn't let him in yet. Turns out he'd deduced the existence ages ago. Clever boy.

And it's not like Fonding is everything. How about me using the boys' shower after tennis when they're not there, just for the kick? How about the time Barnie stumped in naked and saw me? I could have screamed and bolted. I could have lied about confusing the doors. I could at least have covered up. Instead, we just laughed when our eyes met and I went on showering. I knew straightaway that he understood and I wanted to keep going. I think Felix still doesn't get how quickly I can tune into the slut, when there's nothing to fear. Because Barnie's just cool. It takes so much pressure off when you know no harm will come of it, when you know that a boy can go back to being your clubmate and talking tennis the next day like nothing ever happened.

Barnie just said, "Birthday?" I played along and asked if he'd got me a present. He just grinned, said "Easy" and started to shower. We showered together for a while like it was the most normal thing ever, chatting like we'd just randomly met in town. But I could see he was turned on and that was all it took. I knew he was watching when I rubbed in the soap. I caught his eye and smiled. So I just went on rubbing and things turned really nice. Him too. We both went up in steam a few minutes later. We were lucky no-one heard us and came in. I made him promise to keep it quiet. Maybe we'll do some more some day. I'm up for it. I'm getting the itch, just remembering and speculating.

It had taken her no more than a few minutes to write this far. Her writing hand was racing to keep pace with her mind. The next thought, though, stopped her in her tracks and it was only after a moment's hesitation that she continued writing, more slowly now, her hand trembling even though she had tried to write on the matter before.

And I'd better write about the start-of-term party, while I'm here and in the mood. I've never told anyone, not even Tanja or Alice. I started telling Felix the night I first slept with him, but didn't get far and never mentioned the name. I need to take control of that moment, own it. It feels like a demon I've been ignoring. I want to relish the memory, not be terrified by it. I need to separate the thing and the person.

Because I danced with Darren at that party. We'd obviously never met before and hardly talked, so I didn't know him for the sexist jerk he is. If I had, there'd be nothing to write. All I saw and felt was a rough guy, a bit scary maybe, but all the more interesting for it. He's not naturally ugly. Definitely not.

My hair was still open at the time. He was behind me, holding me tight. I was wearing a low-cut top and nothing beneath. He could see over my shoulder all along. I knew how much he could see. He was whispering it all into my ear. We were right on the dancefloor with everyone and I didn't care. I played with the top to help his eyes. I wanted them on me. And not just them. I hadn't felt anyone's hands since Fernando and I was aching for it. I remember raising my arms out of the way when he touched my armpits. I let him reach into my sleeves and then further down. I let him cup me, while we swayed to the slow beat. I don't know for how long. It was pretty dark in the club. I don't think anyone saw much. And I was still covered. His hands were coarse, nothing like Felix's, but I loved their roughness, their uneven, unpredictable movement. I knew he could feel my nipples harden in his fingers.

I was wearing those old, loose, frayed jeans shorts. I told Darren to check the pockets. He didn't know there was nothing inside. They wouldn't hold a fat wallet, because the have huge holes at the bottom. I felt his hands slide down through them and right onto my knickers. Everything felt possible. He didn't need telling what to do. I let him slide his fingers underneath them. I let Darren reach right inside me when I was hot and wet. It's true. He was there before Felix ever got close. I absolutely loved it. I forgot I was on the dancefloor with a few people from my year-to-be. I think a few of them looked, but the light was too dim and the smoke machines were on. I think not a lot of people realised what was happening, let alone cared. They were all partying. But I think my shorts ended up soaked and halfway down my thighs. I should have stopped it happening. Instead, I remember unbuttoning them for him, so he could play with me freely ... For a moment, I thought my panties were coming down with them. Then I couldn't stop imagining they had. My knees went weak when he took them by the hem and I knew what he meant to do. I didn't interfere. I was too far gone. He just fiddled with the hem until I couldn't bear another second without them down and told him 'Do it'. I don't know who could see me. My eyes were shut. I remember my knees melting when I felt them peeled off me and the air on my pussy. Things didn't take long after that. Darren made me come right there. It was one of my wildest ever. He'll always have that piece of my life. There's much, much more love with Felix, but that moment with Darren was wild. I wonder if I can ever tell Felix. Not until Darren's way out of our lives, and then maybe I won't feel the need. I don't think Felix really hates anyone. It's one of the great things about him. But Darren might be a tough ask. I want Felix to know me. I want as few secrets as possible between us, but I guess this had better stay one of them. Bet you he has his, too.

Darren knows. I don't think he's talked --remarkably, given his mouth. Maybe he's got some respect left somewhere. But he knows now. He clearly didn't recognise me in class straight away, not until I caught him falling down the stairs. I know he recognised my face and voice close-up right then, even without the free hair, maybe my scent too. The shock in his face was way too much, even for being caught by a girl. He's shut up about me in class since, which is something. He's never tried anything again, which is more. Once I discovered the kind of man he is, I wished that climax had never happened. I don't want to lose control like that again. I don't want to be the bad boy's bitch. But I want to keep this memory and relive it without shame. He did well that night, whatever else he does. I'll never ever tell him, though.

So Julia. She's a decent sort, isn't she? Blunt but decent. Hardly a Darren. And she's lonely. There's a reason she keeps getting bagelled these days. The break-up's still fresh and she doesn't feel at home with her family. And Felix hurt her. She's all over the place. Will I seriously be bothered if they make it up? I don't want to hurt her, like David. Let them make it up. I promised I would. I just didn't expect to know the girl.

***

Theresa and Felix were ambling down the high street, regaining the feeling in their arms and legs after two motionless hours in unpadded, wooden chairs. They had just sat their first exam (art theory). It had been a draining race. Not until the final quarter of an hour had either of them felt confident of a pass. They had both felt a need to get away from the oppressive silence in the great, austere lecture hall: a hot, unnatural silence, due to strict discipline rather than calm.

"I think your best exam is yet to come," said Felix.

"The best? You mean maths?"

"Yes," he said. "I think you'll like maths." He coldn't stop the smile.

She was looking at him curiously. "Are you hatching something?"

He gave her a look of hurt innocence. "I don't see what could possibly have given you that idea."

"No," she said, trailing off. "No, silly me ..."

They exchanged a quick grin. Felix's brain's work of the morning was making itself felt in his stomach. "Should we pick up something to eat?"

"Hmm ..." Theresa seemed only half enthusiastic. "Not sure ... I had a bite or two during the exam."

Felix's eye fell on a transformer box covered in ads and graffiti.

"Well, that's the largest sticker I've ever seen," he remarked as they passed it.

"They don't need to be large to be noticed," said Theresa slyly.

"Oh, yes ... I suppose you know your stickers." He recognised an opportunity. "Do you think yours stood out enough for anyone else in uni to spot it?" he asked casually.

She looked about, perhaps checking the passers-by for acquaintances. "Probably," she said quietly. "A few addresses in the user list seem to be English."

"Do you think you'll ever find out who's behind any of them?"

She leant back her head. "I've often wondered," she said. "Sites tend to come and go ... I think the chances will get slimmer as time goes by and people forget about Fonding." She smiled at him. "I could do something about that, of course."

He laughed. "Feeling it?"

"A little bit ... I might need to work off some stress."

They exchanged another smile and he decided to take the chance. "What if I hear something?"

"About Fonding."

"Yes ... If I ever get wind of someone else finding it --I mean, I guess it'll never happen, but just in case ... Would you want to know?"

She looked at him intently. He looked back, keeping his face straight, hoping that it was still early enough, that she still did not know him quite well enough to guess all his thoughts. She opened her mouth, visibly about to ask a question, then seemed to think better of it and grinned.

"No," she said. "Or ... wait."

He did. "How long," he asked after several seconds.

She laughed. "Until I'm old and bored and know all your other secrets."

He held her smile and raised an eyebrow. "You think you ever will?"

She looked at him appraisingly. "Fair enough," she said. "Until one of us is about to go, then."

***

Felix crept out from among the bushes, looked up at the sleeping building, made a decision and turned right to begin his search.

He stayed close to the walls as he circled it, checking every window, peering into every gap in their fringe of waist-high privet, raising every grille above the cellar windows. He had heard of the cellars: the deep storerooms, boiler rooms and dusty, long-disused classrooms, buried under today's like a sunken city beneath its living counterpart. He had ventured there in free periods, found an unexpected vastness, but never explored it fully.

He had no idea what he would find, but he was confident of a discovery. There must be a chink in the armour, unless it had been closed in the past year months. That was the only way Carol's and Heather's tale made sense. It had stuck in his mind the moment he had heard it, even as he had tried to ignore it. 'The Mutter' ...

Was his idea wrong? The question leapt onto the stage. Certainly its lawfulness was in doubt. He had a right to be here, yes, but not always. And what had this place ever done to him? Nothing. So why do this?

But he wouldn't do anything to it. No damage would be done to anyone or anything. He was adamant about that. He would tread lightly. There would be no violence, just consummate stealth. He would leave no trace beyond the forensic ... except maybe a token of gratitude in the piggy bank. Everyone would win, including the unwitting host. So what was the argument all about?

What if? What if someone did find out? He could see his mother's reaction: 'Felix, I wouldn't have believed it of you'; his father's: 'It does strike me as a bit mad, you know.' But were they always right?

He drew a quick breath. He had found an opening, hidden behind a clump of rhododendron. His conscience stepped forth and barred the way. He pleaded with it. He could change his mind later. He was merely scouting for now.

He rested the grille carefully against the wall, then lowered himself into the space underneath. Warm air rose from the room beyond the half-open window as he squeezed through it sideways, shining his phone at the cobwebbed walls to avoid any sensitive taps or pipes, and climbed down onto the ground.

The firm concrete below his feet reassured him. His presence among the boilers was remarkable, yes, but in no way harmful, so long as he left them untouched. The Earth and more importantly this house, was unshaken.

He crept to the door and with a thrill found it unlocked as he turned the handle. It was heavily reinforced, perhaps designed to withstand a gas explosion, but opened almost silently. He peered out and looked about. Lit-up xenon-green signs at either end of the corridor indicated the nearest fire escapes but did not illuminate the surroundings. There were no other lights, so he would have to do without them.

He heard nothing but the echo of his own feet as he approached the grimy glass door at the bottom of the stairwell. He was about to push it open when the light from his phone screen, falling through it, revealed an inauspicious red box on the wall above head height. He strained his eyes to make out the white letters in the gloom, hoping against hope, but ...

'Hotzenplotz Home Security Services'

A burglar alarm ... It seemed that Carol had, for once, not heard the latest.

Then he saw the broken cables extending to both sides.

***

The dinner table was laden with food and chatter echoed about the room. Matthew Pewcheer's birthdays were always celebrated to the full and the Dwights were only four of several dozen guests, some of which Felix had never seen in his life. Matthew's brother Mark's voice boomed about the room as he spoke about his children. He turned to present his youngest, seated by his side.

"Ruth will be a nun!" he said proudly. "She will be giving up her life to the Lord in two years time. Won't you, Ruth?"