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‘Yeah. Didn’t you know?’
Estelle shook her head. How had James found that kind of money? Surely not from fleecing Summer’s superfans?
‘Well, we appreciate it. I don’t know who’s going to buy BDE from Kevin, or if the new owners will want to partner with you, but I really hope you do this again next year.’
Estelle wasn’t sure how to reply. The thought of doing it all again without James to help, or his mother bringing her French Fancies, made her feel flat and deflated rather than energised. She’d started the year doing everything in her power to get James to leave, and now she was desperate for him to stay.
Carly’s phone rang and she took the call. ‘Hi, you nearly here?’ she said, before mouthing ‘it’s James’ at Estelle. ‘Yup, we’re at the gates… Who? I’m with Estelle.’ Carly glanced at her and frowned. ‘Why?’ she said into the phone. ‘And where?’
‘What’s he saying?’ Estelle hissed.
Carly pulled another face. ‘Okay, I’ll see what I can do. See you in a bit.’ She ended the call and looked apologetically at Estelle. ‘He said he doesn’t want you here when he arrives.’
What? ‘Oh.’ Her words to James on Friday must have been the last straw for him. It wasn’t just the workload of the festival and securing the fence that had kept him busy. He’d been actively avoiding her.
‘I’ve no idea why. It’s not like he’s collecting a cake for your second birthday.’
‘It’s okay,’ Estelle replied, the pain of rejection stinging her eyes. ‘I’ve got plenty to be getting on with, anyway. I’ll leave you to it.’ Without waiting for a response, she strode back up the drive.
See, you fucked it up with him.
There could be another reason!
Like…
I don’t know, but he’s been trying to shield me from things that are going wrong. Maybe something’s happened to the Spice Cadets? Go back and see.
You can’t.
Why not? There’s plenty of people at the gate. I’ll be stealthy. He won’t have a clue I’m there.
Pivoting, Estelle jogged back to the gate, veering onto the verge to hide behind the corner of a temporary kiosk.
Carly and one of the security guards opened the main gates, and a car drove slowly in.
Estelle blinked.
James was in the driver’s seat, and all four band members of the Spice Cadets were passengers, but that information was rapidly processed and filed so her brain had space to compute the car that they were in.
It was a lurid pink Renault Kangoo, the same eye-watering shade as one of Bev’s cleaning tabards, with huge plastic eyelashes above the headlights. By the fuel cap was a sticker of Tinkerbell and the words ‘runs on fairy dust’, and emblazoned across the body were the words ‘Barb’s Beauty Boutique’ in black glitter.
As the car moved through the gates, Estelle noticed the personalised number plate reading ‘BARB13’.
What on earth was this and where was the Ferrari?
Carly was leaning down to talk to James through the window. Estelle’s feet moved unconsciously towards them.
Then her mouth moved of its own accord, too. ‘Who does this monstrosity belong to?’
Carly moved to the side, so there was nothing between Estelle and James. A look of utter mortification flashed across his face, then he composed his features.
‘Me,’ he replied.
‘What happened to the Ferrari?’
He cleared his throat. ‘I traded it in.’
‘For this?’
