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KARIM MAKES HIS MOVES
That afternoon Karim appeared on the doorstep, freshly groomed as always. As Freya opened her mouth to greet him, he patted his hair into place, not quite satisfied with the way it sat. Freya couldn’t help it - she laughed.
“Finished preening yourself yet?” she teased. Karim pretended not to hear her.
“Nena sent me over with something for your Mum,” he said. Freya quickly sobered.
“Thanks. She’s not home from work yet. But she was limping badly when she left this morning.”
“Nena wanted to invite you and her over to dinner, but Dad’s not happy with all the time I’ve been spending out since I’ve been back. So instead of being polite and agreeing like he’s supposed to, he’s demanding that I eat at home for ‘at least the next three nights’ before he’ll agree to anyone else coming over. Honestly, I think he’s forgotten I’ve been making my own way for the last year.”
Freya shrugged. She wasn’t that keen on her mother invading her social life anyway. Not now she actually seemed to have a social life. It was a novelty she wanted to keep to herself for a while.
“That’s OK. At least you’re here now,” she said.
Karim smiled, an appreciative grin spreading over his face. That had clearly been the right thing to say.
“Come in,” said Freya, leading the way to the kitchen.
“Just for a minute, I’m expected back.”
“I wanted to ask you about your other potions.” Freya was thinking about their still-unpatched roof. Karim was dubious at first.
“I haven’t done much with them yet,” he said.
“Look, I’ll show you, and you can tell me if there’s anything you can do,” said Freya. She led the way up to her room, feeling self-conscious at inviting a male into her private space. Probably she should have tidied up, first.
“I suppose I could come up with something waterproof,” Karim said, gazing up at the tarpaulin in her room. “I guess the real problem is that the wind keeps moving the tarp. You need a builder in. Shouldn’t the landlord organise that?”
“I know, but our landlord is terrible. And we would get a builder in, it’s just the money...” There wasn’t a good solution to that problem.
“Well, I guess I can make you some glue to keep the tarp in place. Temporarily.” Karim seemed a little doubtful, but he brightened up as he thought about it.
“That would be useful on the dig as well,” he considered aloud. “Hmm... tell you what, I’ll come back tomorrow with something, I’ve got some ideas to try. Meanwhile,” he extracted the next jar of wound-healing potion from somewhere in his clothing, magician-like.
“Your healing balm, your majesty.” He knelt before her again, and suggested, eyes twinkling, “Take a seat, so that I may apply it like a gentleman.”
The only seat available up here was her bed. Freya sat on the edge, only to slip off with a thump as her bedclothes - never well ordered - slid off the bed when she shuffled around awkwardly. Freya found herself blushing furiously. Karim laughed as he offered a hand to help her up again. Freya had to laugh too. She supposed it was funny. However, she sat well back on the bed this time, determined not to embarrass herself with clumsiness again.
“Take two?” Karim suggested.
“Er, yes.” She was wearing trousers, as usual. Karim lifted both her legs onto the bed, then gently pushed back the fabric of her trousers on the injured one. Freya could still feel the tingling trail of his fingers on her skin after they had passed.
“Your leg’s looking better today,” he said, sounding pleased. “But you’ve missed a scratch at the back, see?”
“Well, no, I can’t,” countered Freya. “That’s probably why I missed it.”
Karim stroked more ointment onto her leg. It didn’t hurt so much today. Perhaps his ointment was doing some good.
“I can come and put it on you every day if you like,” he suggested, his voice almost a purr. “To make sure all of you heals well.”
Freya couldn’t resist teasing him.
“I hope you don’t make that offer to all your patients.”
Karim made a face.
“I’m into archaeology, not medicine. You’re just lucky I’m working with you.” He had finished smoothing on the ointment, but continued to stroke her leg, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, but facing her. He leaned forward, his eyes intense. “But I would like to keep working with you a little more, if I may?” Freya nodded. Was he going to kiss her? She felt the blood roaring in her ears. Anxiety or excitement? Maybe a bit of both.
“Freya, are you home?” The sound of her mother’s voice destroyed the moment. Karim scrambled up, putting the lid on his potion jar. Freya leapt off the bed, hastily rearranging the blankets. Not that I’ve done anything illicit, she thought ruefully. Just the usual disorganisation.
“Coming, Mum,” she called back. “Karim and I were just looking at what can be done with the hole in the roof.”
They clumped downstairs, where Karim offered his pot of balm to Freya. 3
“This will be enough for you and your Mum today. I will bring you more tomorrow.” His eyes promised more than balm as he took his farewell.
“Freya,” said Danae. “You’ll have to make dinner tonight. I made it through work, but I’m too sore to move anymore.”
Freya followed her lead into the kitchen, where she spent the next hour following exacting instructions while her mum sat in the chair. She was perfectly capable of preparing dinner herself, but apparently her mother wanted her in sight. They ate silently in the kitchen. Eventually, Freya remembered that she had to put potion on her mother’s leg - only to have her mother brush her off.
“No, I can do that for myself now. Pass me the pot. Good. Thank you for making dinner. Now, we need to review your knowledge of were mating systems before you do your school homework. Since Karim was here when I arrived, I’m guessing you haven’t done your homework yet. Am I right?” Freya grudgingly had to admit that this was indeed correct. What with one thing and another, windspeed calculations hadn’t appealed.
Later, after an intense session of reviewing the different types of weres and their putative mating systems, Freya asked her mum a question that had been bothering her.
“But is all this information based on observation? Or does it come from the weres themselves?”
“Why do you ask?” said her mother suspiciously.
“Well, it seems to me that it might look different from the inside. I mean, we’re always told that foxes are solitary, but then we see those were-foxes in packs. And they said something about that themselves. Something’s got to be wrong with what we know. So... I’m just wondering.”
Her mother scowled.
“Please do not start trying to find out from the inside yourself,” she said. “It’s bad enough losing one daughter to those... those vulpine creeps.”
“Maybe Tammy can tell us herself, one day,” suggested Freya. “After all, she’s the one who is going to have were-fox babies.”
“What?” shrieked Danae.
Freya realised too late that she had never got around to telling Danae that part of Tammy’s news.
“Sorry, I thought I told you. She said she was pregnant when she came that night.”
“I cannot believe you neglected to tell me the most important thing she had to say. Freya, I expected better of you.”
“At least I’m in no danger of following in Tammy’s footsteps, Mum. I mean, I like my information accurate, but I’m not that desperate for knowledge. I just thought that maybe if we see Tammy again, we could ask her, that’s all.”
“Enough wondering, then. I’m tired. Can you help me to bed?”
Freya assisted her grumpy, limping mother into bed. She wondered how her mother had managed to get to work that day - and if she’d manage it again the next. If she didn’t, Freya would have to look into getting an after-school job. Somehow.
The next morning her mother was up and ready for work as usual.
“It’s not so bad in the mornings,” she explained, “when I haven’t been standing all day.” She trudged off in the direction of the bus stop when Freya left for school.
***
KARIM MET FREYA AS she turned out of the school gates that afternoon, a rucksack slung over one shoulder.
“How’s your leg?” he asked.
“Getting better slowly, I guess. It hurts today,” she said. She was limping a little today too. They’d had PE at school, and Freya was determined to become fitter, so that next time she was chased by a pack of rabid weres - if there was a next time - she wouldn’t be puffed after the first block. That meant she’d exercised harder than usual, and her leg was feeling it.
“I’ll come with you and get some potion on it, then.”
Aisha, who had come out with her, rolled her eyes.
“Come to the station cafe tomorrow after school,” she suggested. “Karim can’t hog you every day.”
Freya tilted her head apologetically at her friend.
“It was mostly my mother hogging me last night,” she said. “She’s decided I need to review my folklore. Again. But I’ll come tomorrow before she gets home from work.”
“See you tomorrow, then,” said Aisha, before striding off in the direction of the station.
Karim walked beside Freya, chatting amicably about the work he’d been doing in Egypt, and how he’d found a website that advertised student accommodation at the university he planned to attend.
“When do you go?” she asked quietly. She was feeling conflicted again. She was enjoying Karim’s company, but he was clearly not planning to stick around. Karim looked at her with a frown, perhaps hearing the slightly hurt tone in her voice. He took her hand, rucksack clinking as he adjusted it. She extricated her hand gently. She didn’t want the town’s rumour-mills whirring too fast.
“In another two weeks. But it’s not far by train. You and Aisha can come visit me, if you like.”
Freya shrugged noncommittally. In a world where she had enough money for trains to go wherever she wanted to go, she could indeed visit him.
Despite her limp, Freya and Karim made good time to Freya’s house. Inside, Karim’s green eyes seemed darker.
“Let’s get the roof looked at first, then look at your leg,” he said. “Unless it’s really sore?”
It was, but Freya suggested working on the roof anyway. She wasn’t yet sure what she wanted to happen after that.
Karim had clearly been working hard on his magical glue ideas. His rucksack turned out to be filled with several re-purposed jars, each half full of a different goo.
“I suppose I should be doing chemistry at uni,” he said. “But I’ve never heard of chemical archaeology, so I guess I’ll just have to muddle through.” He directed Freya to hold the tarp just so, as he applied each different mixture to the edge where it met the roof tiles, with a brush he’d brought along for the job. Finally, he covered the whole tarp with another mixture.
“When that one’s dried, the whole thing should set like stone,” he declared. “No builder required.” He seemed pleased with his efforts.
“Thanks,” said Freya. “It’ll be good to have that temporary roof a little more solid, with winter just around the corner.”
Karim turned to her, brushing off his dusty clothes. The tarp had not been terribly clean. The room seemed suddenly smaller, and Karim very close.
“Look, I want to make sure things are clear between us,” he said. “I like you, Freya. I like you a lot. But you know I’m heading off to uni soon. I can’t change that, and to be honest I wouldn’t want to. But I know you’ve only got a year to go. Maybe you could apply to York, too?” he rushed on. “But even if you don’t want to do that, I’d like to spend more time with you. There are holidays, Christmas break, that sort of thing. I mean, I wanted to say...” he trailed off.
“Not just a holiday romance, do you mean?” asked Freya, a little snippily. “Oh, Karim. I don’t know what to do. You’ll be entering a new world. Going to do your thing. I’m a bit jealous of that, you know. I mean, I’ll be doing it soon too, but a year feels like a long time. And who knows what will happen between now and then. Let’s just...” she shrugged. “See what happens, I guess?”
Karim took a step closer to her, and took both her hands.
“Could I be a thing that happens?” he asked.
Freya closed the remaining distance between them.
“Maybe?” She put her arms around him and lifted her face. She liked the feel of him in her arms - he seemed solid, dependable. As his face descended to meet hers, she thought,
This is it. This is when I find out what drew Tammy out to sea, away from us.
However, their kiss was not explosive, but rather clumsy. Freya bumped into Karim’s jars of roof-glue after a second or two of fumbling, off-balance once again. The height difference between them made it rather awkward to remain standing. Karim broke off the kiss somewhat guiltily.
“I haven’t even seen to your leg, yet!” He released her hastily. “I should have applied your potion first.” Evidently, he thought her stumble was due to a sore leg.
Freya arranged herself on the bed so that Karim could apply the ointment again. She was glad to be sitting. She wanted to think about their kiss. It hadn’t been the world-shattering experience she’d thought it might be. Had she expected too much? Karim once again sat beside her on the bed. He reached out to apply the ointment and looked at his dirty hands.
“Can I use the bathroom?” he asked ruefully.
Freya directed him across the hall. While he washed, Freya wondered at herself. Was she throwing herself into this potential relationship because she’d lost her sister? Was she simply curious? She knew Karim was leaving soon - perhaps that made it easier, since there seemed little chance of a long-term relationship.
However, Karim seemed worried when he returned.
“There’s a crowd out the back of your house,” he said. “I saw them through the bathroom window. It’s The Family.”
“What! Show me!” commanded Freya. Her voice quivered. After several run-ins with the were-foxes, she was not keen to encounter them in force again. Running to the bathroom, she peered through the clouded glass.
“I can’t see a thing through this,” she complained. “How did you manage it?” Karim pointed to the upper window, which was open a crack.
“What on Gaia were you doing up there?” she demanded.
“I heard something, so I looked. I’ll boost you,” he said, offering his hands as a platform.
“Just make sure I don’t fall,” she said. “I’m not exactly graceful.”
“You won’t fall,” he assured her. “And you seem graceful enough to me.” Freya smiled. She could get used to flattery, even if their first kiss hadn’t been a runaway success. Placing a bare foot in his hands, she let him lift her towards the window. She braced herself against the wall with her hands, leaning away from the bath. Falling into that would be painful.
Freya gasped as she peered through the thin crack of the open window. She could see a large gathering over the back fence. There were russet hues, ginger, red and auburn, all shades reminiscent of fox-fur. What were they doing here? As she stood watching on Karim’s hands, were-hands started pointing in her direction.
“I think I’ve seen enough. Or perhaps I mean been seen enough. Down, please.”
Karim lowered his hands so that she could step to the ground. She turned to face him again.
“Any bright ideas, if they attack?” she asked.
“Er, no?” he replied. “I’m a soon-to-be-student archaeologist, not a warrior.”
Unexpectedly, a knock sounded at the back door.
“Better see what they want, I suppose,” she said grimly. Karim followed her downstairs. She found she was acutely aware of him behind her. She wished they hadn’t been interrupted, but she was glad of his presence - however non-warrior-like - as she opened the door. It seemed strange to be opening the back door for someone. Since it opened onto the concrete pad that served as a yard, only residents came through it as a rule. The were-fox matriarch Lisichka stood in front of Freya.
***