Mattie's phone vibrated. She jumped, and answered it in a low voice. "Hi Max."
"How's Leo?"
"Same."
"You should move again. Fred's nervous about any of us staying in the same place too long."
She closed her eyes. "OK." She took a breath, looked at Leo. He was watching her, eyes dark, and she knew that look: calculation. "Is Fred - really Fred?"
Max made a strange sound. It took Mattie a moment to understand that it was laughter. "Yes. And more."
"Just tell me," said Mattie. "Please." She could not take any more surprises tonight.
Max's voice held a smile. "He's Fred, he's definitely my brother. But he also has Leo's memories."
"Oh my god," said Mattie.
"Move now," said Max. "We'll meet you at the rendezvous. Do you remember?"
There was more anxiety than usual in his voice. Not surprising - the frailty of human memory had just been demonstrated. "I remember," she said.
Leo watched as she pocketed her phone. "A problem," he said.
"I don't know. But at least we know your memories are somewhere safe." As they prepared to leave, she told him what Max had said.
Leo was quiet as they trekked away from the cemetery and through side streets towards the canal. The rendezvous was under a motorway flyover, a place chosen by Leo for its lack of cameras. These days it was nearly impossible to walk down a British street without being on camera. Rendezvous points were invariably bleak as a result.
The kiss kept returning to Mattie's mind. Who had initiated that, Leo or memory-loss Leo? Did it matter? Was the real Leo here all along? Her thoughts buzzed.
"You Ok?" she asked him, to distract herself. They were in a street of ordinary three bed semis, nice front gardens, wheelie bins out ready for the bin men in the morning. It was totally unremarkable, except for Leo Elster walking beside her with a price on his head, or at least, the digital contents of his head.
"I'm trying to work out how to get me back." Leo shook his head. "I mean, restore me, not revenge. Though that might feature."
"If we can stir up emotions..." she said.
He stopped, took hold of her shoulders. "If this was a bad novel, I would sweep you into my arms and your passionate embrace would bring all my memories flooding back. The classic magic-sex trope. Is this a bad novel?"
"I've never read a novel like that."
"I read a lot of rubbish." His eyes were intense. "Not much else to do."
And there it was again. They both twigged the same moment. "You can remember what you've read," Mattie said.
Leo closed his eyes. "It's like trying to get back to a dream. It's there , but hard to grasp. But. I can. Some of it."
"Some is enough,"said Mattie. "You can remember books. Why? What's special about books?"
Leo quirked an eyebrow at her. "Books make you feel." Mattie's phone rang again. "Turn around," said Max. "Hobb is here. We're taking the vehicles, we'll call you. But run."
They turned tail and ran, the laptop in Mattie's rucksack banging heavily against her shoulder blades with every step. "The cameras," said Mattie in a gasp as they reached the main road once more.
"No choice," said Leo. "Which way's the High Street?"
"I don't know, I don't live here! That way." More of a glow. Shop windows.
"We want the opposite direction," said Leo.
"Wait," said Mattie as he tugged her in the darker direction. "We do want the High Street."
Her eyes were shining. She had a plan, clearly, but there was no time for explanations. Trust was needed, and it came easily. He had trusted her before, he thought. And so far tonight she had not let him down. "Ok," said Leo.
They ran, and heard shouts behind them. Hobb's men. "Come on," said Leo. Mattie was falling behind. He glanced at her. She only had little legs. He took hold of her hand.
One building dominated the High Street. It was from the great age of general education. Sandstone pillars at the entrance supported a noble portico, and a glass dome rose from the roof. The door boasted foot high gilt letters: Library.
"In here," said Mattie, and he realised her plan.
"We can't get in that way," said Leo. He glanced behind. "They'll see us in about ten seconds."
"Staff entrance," said Mattie.
They climbed over a railing and dived for the shelter of the unlit service area at the back of the library building. Giant metal cylinder bins loomed, and squat plastic wheelie bins. There was a door with a security plate. Mattie pushed it. Nothing. "Can you...hack it or something."
"I'm not James Bond," said Leo. He jerked his head at a plain painted door. "This one." He spread his hands over it, rattled it, then gave it a kick. The door vibrated forward enough for him to grab its edge and yank it outwards. "Fire exit," he said. "They basically want to open."
"You are James Bond," she said.
"I don't want to be. Come on," said Leo. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a dim linoleum stairwell. Plain concrete stairs led up four floors. "Upstairs. Into the stacks."
"Which section," Mattie asked.
"Bad novels," said Leo and Mattie laughed.