“Good. Next session then. Arrange it.” She closes her notebook. “You’re doing well, Elida. Better than well.” She peers at me through the screen, her expression kind. “We’re lucky to have you back.”
We say goodbye and I close the laptop.
I pick up my phone and open Mateo’s messages.
Free for a call?
I send it before I can think about it.
MATEO
I pick up on the second ring.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey. Good session today.”
“Thank you. Did the X stop feel any different by the end?”
“Marginally less catastrophic.”
She laughs. “That’s progress.”
I’m lying on my bed staring at the ceiling and I should say it - Calloway told us, I know you’re leaving - but she’s already talking, bubbling almost, which is a word I wouldn’t normally associate with Elida Eriksson but which fits her perfectly right now.
She tells me about Brita. About the video session, the routine breakdown, the qualifier. She sounds happy and I think about how long she hasn’t been.
“Elida,” I say, when she pauses for breath.
“Yes?”
“I’m really glad. That you’re going back.”
“Thank you, It feels - it feels right. Finally.”
“Yeah. It does.”
“Jake must be gutted. Long distance is tough, but you’ll figure it out?”
Silence.
“We haven’t talked about it yet,” she says, finally. “I actually called you because I need a favor.”
“Okay.”
“Brita wants to see my partner work in the video sessions. Before I get to Sweden. She says any competent skater who can follow instructions will do. And emm, well, I thought of you.”
“You thought of me?” I repeat, stupidly.
“You’re competent. Mostly.”
“High praise.”
“And you can follow instructions. Sometimes.”
“Also high praise.”
She laughs, slightly nervous in a way I haven’t heard from her before.
