‘Hey, Rav.’ Aisha finished arranging some new salt crystal lamps on one of the shelves and came over, wiping her hands on her jeans; it was fairly obvious she’d been giving Faye and Rav some space until now. She stuck her hand out and he shook it, hardly taking his eyes from Faye. ‘I heard you’re organising the festival. Faye’s right. I’m a huge fan of Dal Riada.’
‘Oh. Cool! Nice to meet you.’
Rav shifted his smile to Aisha. For a moment, Faye saw Aisha through Rav’s eyes: young, bright, enthusiastic; Aisha loved music as much as Rav. She had been wearing her hair down more and wore make-up most days now, which made her dark brown, long-lashed eyes look like those of a cartoon doe. Faye had always thought that Aisha was a hidden beauty and had encouraged her to feel more confident about the way she looked, but for the first time, she suddenly felt envious and hated herself immediately for the feeling.What is wrong with me?Aisha and Rav were allowed to talk to each other. She didn’t own either of them. Faye could feel something encircling her, constricting her throat and casting a kind of haze in front of her eyes. It was a similar feeling to when she had seen Annie yesterday, and had been unable to tell her what had happened with Finn. She shook her head to try and clear the feeling, but it persisted. Was it just the flu? No, it was something else.
‘So have you organised a lot of festivals?’ Aisha asked Rav.
‘A few. Usually, I promote tours, but my company have started moving into festivals now,’ he said, his gaze flickeringto Faye as he talked to Aisha. ‘I’ve always been fascinated by the historic festivals, you know? Woodstock, that kind of thing. Altamont, Live Aid.’
‘Altamont. Didn’t people die at that festival?’ Aisha asked.
‘Yeah. Textbook example of how not to run a festival. Rule number one: don’t let the Hells Angels do security.’
‘That seems like good advice. What happened, exactly?’ Faye asked, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that refused to go away.
‘It was a free concert, 1969. Four months after Woodstock, the Summer of Love.’ Rav made the peace sign with both hands. ‘Three hundred thousand people, mostly on drugs, descended on this place that wasn’t at all prepared. Bike gangs were on security. One woman was stabbed to death, someone drowned in a canal because they were so out of it, two people died in a car accident.’
‘Oh god,’ Aisha breathed.
‘Yeah. It was violent. Chaotic. It was so bad that the Grateful Dead didn’t even go on. It’s not going to be like that at Abercolme Rocks, however.’ He chuckled. ‘It’s a nice, gentle Midsummer music festival. No Hells Angels.’
Midsummer, Midsummer, Midsummer delight; go to the faeries on Midsummer night; Take thee a maiden, take thee a wife…The song played on Faye’s mind again at the mention of the June solstice. Was there a significance about Finn playing Abercolme Rocks that she hadn’t dared consider? Was it about more than satisfying his vanity, about more than feeding off the adulation of the audience?
Finn had told her what he thought of humans: that they were, at best, good only for breeding and being slaves to the faerie world. What if his plans for the festival were more heinous than anyone knew?
The image of a rioting crowd, of the out-of-control chaos of the free festival at Altamont filled her mind, and she felt a shiver run through her that she didn’t fully understand.
Aisha and Rav were chatting amiably about music, and Faye made herself go and rearrange something on a shelf that didn’t need it.Let them talk, she told herself, resisting the jealousy that had risen in her.
‘If you need any help with the festival, I’ve got some free time. I’m at university, but I’ve got a few weeks free at the moment and I love music. I’m really into a lot of the bands on the line-up. I used to run a music blog, so…I mean…it’d be a pleasure to help,’ Aisha was saying.
‘Oh. Really? That’d be great. I can’t pay you, I don’t think, though.’ Rav sounded apologetic. Faye’s heart started beating harder, and she was alarmed at herself.
‘Ah well. Festival tickets’d be enough?’ Aisha smiled innocently.
‘Oh, sure! That I can do.’ He nodded enthusiastically. ‘You’re serious? You can help out? I need admin help, like emails, social media, local advertising, that kind of thing.’
‘No worries.’ Aisha scribbled her number on a scrap of paper and gave it to him. ‘Give me a call. I’m free Mondays and weekends…or evenings, if you need a hand then.’
‘Okay, cool. Thanks, Aisha. That’d be a huge help.’
Rav isn’t yours, Faye told herself.You just slept together once. You don’t own him.
Yet, when she looked up from the spell bags she had organised into neat lines, Rav was staring at her. She felt his gaze flicker to her breasts. She looked back at him, not doing anything except accepting his gaze without embarrassment. As she did so, she let the delicious power of faerie suffuse her limbs and her blood. It was suddenly as though all her insecurity had been washed away, replaced by a new seductive power.
Interesting, Faye thought.It’s like Rav’s under a spell when he looks at me. My spell.
She smiled over at Rav, touching her top lip with her fingertip, tracing it along, watching him watch her as she did it. She felt so different, sogood, suddenly, and she was enjoying it.
Rav followed her across the shop, leaving Aisha to return to her tasks.
‘You seem…different.’ He blinked. ‘Did you…I don’t know. Do your hair differently?’ he asked Faye, frowning.
Faye ran her hand through her hair, not breaking eye contact with him.
‘No. Just the same as always.’
‘Oh.’ Rav stared at her again, hungrily, his desire open on his face, then looked away, obviously trying to control himself. ‘You look…I don’t know. Amazing.’ He lowered his voice and reached for her, putting his arm around her waist and drawing her to him. ‘I mean, you’re always sexy, but…fuck. What have you done to me? I don’t know what to do with myself around you.’
