"Just do it," he said. "I don't want to wait. I want to be me again. Whoever that is."
The hut was dark. Mattie had thrown her coat over her open laptop, and worked with her head under the cover, like a Victorian photographer. She raised her head now, and squinted at Leo through the dark. "You sure?"
He grimaced. "Yeah. I think. Even if he is an idiot."
"I've never done this before."
"You can though - I know you can Mattie."
"You don't know anything about me."
His gaze rested on her. "I know you care a lot about your friend and want him back. I'm just, just a digital gooseberry. So, as much as I'm afraid I'll turn back into a pumpkin, or in his case, a tosser, I trust you to try to do it. I know you won't deliberately hurt me. Or him."
"I-." His eyes were the same blue she'd always known, his wild black hair and deliberate five-day beard were all the Leo she had been talking to for the past year and more. But now his eyes were gentle and his body had forgotten the tension he always held close, his ward against danger. He was soft and unafraid, the first she'd ever seen that in him. "I hope it works. But - whatever you're made of, the parts of him who doesn't know his life story - I hope you stay as well." She swung away and set to work, unreeling cables and calling the enormous memory file to her screen. Leo paced among the lawnmowers until at last she turned back and said, "That's it."
Her hair fell forward as she crouched over the screen. Leo tentatively reached out and tucked a strand behind her ear.
She blinked up at him. His hand brushed her cheek as he drew away. His eyes were rather sad. "You ok?" She got to her feet and faced him.
"Yeah. Listen. You said you were my best friend."
"Well. You're mine. I don't know if-"
He waved a hand. "I mean, you weren't being euphemistic. You're not my sister or something."
"What? No. Mia and Niska are your sisters-"
"Ok good." He wrapped his right hand round the back of her head, leaned in and kissed her.
His mouth was warm and soft, and his hold on her clumsy but eager. She knew at once that he'd never kissed anyone, not like that. She put her hands on his shoulders and tried to make up for his inexperience, leading him, holding him, allowing him. The kiss lasted many heartbeats and then Leo drew back.
"Well," said Mattie.
He let go of her. "Sorry. That was too much. You've got a boyfriend."
"No I haven't." But even as she replied, his tone struck her. "Wait, what?"
He had spoken not as a question, or as some kind of fishing exercise to make her deny a rival - but as a fact. He'd said it like something he knew.
"I haven't got a boyfriend," said Mattie, and watched Leo's face. His eyes widened in surprise as well as relief. "You thought I did," she said. "But I've never said anything about it. Why did you say that?"
He tore at his hair with one hand. "I don't know. But - I just know you do."
"Leo. We've known each other a year. More than. And in all that time I have never told you about any boyfriend." Sure, there had been one, plus the tail end of Harun, so to speak. But it was not a topic she'd ever brought up with Leo.
They stared at each other. "The phone call," said Mattie at last. "You rang me a few weeks back. Interrupted me."
"There was someone there," said Leo. "A man."
"Yes." She was not going to justify her life to him. And that was not the point because if he knew that, then everything was going to be all right. "You remember it!" She grabbed his arm. "You remember it, Leo. That means your memories aren't lost. It means the transfer did work. The memories have just not...connected up right."
She scrambled for the laptop. "When was that...We were only on the phone for about two minutes. Why that memory?"
He closed his eyes. "You said Uh, hey. Right. Now's not a good time. Give that back. Sorry. Look, I'll message you in a bit OK." He opened his eyes again.
"OK," said Mattie. "That's it. But why that memory? Why has that one made it through and so much else got lost?"
Leo twisted his mouth. "I was upset," he said.
"I cut you off," she said. "Yeah. Sorry."
"Mnn."
"What?" There was something he was not telling her. "Spill it," she said.
"I was jealous," he said. "Pissed off." He shrugged. "I don't know why. If we never, if we were just friends."
"We - anyway, it's complicated."
Hope is hard to hide. He ducked his head.
Mattie stared at him. "That's it," she said slowly. "It's not the memory that's missing. The memories are fine. Clear. You can recall that perfectly." She pressed her hands all over her forehead, eyes, cheeks, but the conviction would not rub off. "I know what the interface is between digital and organic," she said.
He waited.
"It's emotion," said Mattie.