Chapter 11
The Report Under His Bed
Theo kept the full repair report in a flat containing one chair, two bicycles, and no dining table.
Nora read it on the floor while he cooked pasta badly. Every defect was real. So were the preservation options Malcolm had removed.
"Why do you still live like you might leave tomorrow?" she asked.
Theo turned off the hob. "My father died owing the firm more than it was worth. Malcolm and I guaranteed the debt. Every room I own belongs partly to an argument I didn't start."
Nora understood the architecture of that trap. Duty presented as consent. Love measured by how little trouble one caused.
"You can want out," she said.
"So can you."
The distance between them changed. Theo asked before touching her face. Nora answered by closing it.
Their first kiss was quieter than the fire-door almost-kiss and more dangerous for having no audience. He stopped when she stopped, then waited.
"Again," she said.
Later, over pasta rescued with too much cheese, Nora reached the cost appendix.
One line showed a £356,000 alternative using phased repairs and temporary capacity limits.
"This is half the public estimate."
Theo read the note. "It depends on the cooperative owning the adjacent service lane."
"Who owns it?"
He checked the title reference.
Daniel did.