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‘Five minutes ago! Right at the front unfortunately, like she’s actually enjoying it.’
Helen tightened her utility belt and took Elle’s hand. ‘Okay let’s queue-jump.’ She really was a new woman.
The band on stage had changed to one fronted by a female singer wearing peacock-coloured leggings, a face full of glitter. The crowd had thickened. Crowds usually made Helen nervous. A mess of people all squeezed together. Women in floral crowns and men in faux fur coats slung over their bare chests lilted to the music. All the germs, the bodies, and the noise. With the crowd compressed to the front, Elle was slinking her body sideways and stepping through gaps in the crowd before they snapped shut again.
‘Anyone ever told you, you would have made a good rugby player, Elle?’
Elle turned towards her confused and mimed ‘I can’t hear you’.
A small guy brushed next to Helen. She could see the beads of sweat dripping down his face. He was wearing a heavy coat that he opened to reveal little plastic packets and bottles. He gestured Helen closer, eyes wide and jaw clenched. Helen of course had never tried (whisper it) drugs. Well okay she’d often had a little too much wine, but that wasn’t really the same. There had been no dark alley purchases, all night parties, or being cool at uni. The words ‘higher state of consciousness’ sounded a lot like a gateway to just being unconscious. Who knows what they mixed with that stuff? Helen shuddered at the thought of putting that into her body. She didn’t even eat food that was a day before its sell-by date.
Helen shook her head and the man with the glassy eyes closed his hands into the prayer position and went back to dancing. There was a sharp tug to her arm. Elle held her by the arm and pointed upwards at the stage. Behind the band was Alice in her flapper cap, flashing a lanyard at a security guard and then slinking behind the dark curtains at the back of the stage. She was followed in by two other girls in cut-off shorts, and sequined bralets; and two guys in patterned waistcoats and fedoras. One was wearing Ray-Bans. He turned towards the crowd before slipping behind the curtain.
The blurred image Helen had carried around of him in her mind came snapping into focus. It was Brody. The expanse of time that had existed between them snapped shut. It could have been last night that he was holding her on the cliffs.
‘Thank you so much, lovely creatures.’ The singer finished. ‘I’ve so enjoyed playing for you and with you today, but now I’m going to go hang out with my friends.’
The crowd roared into applause, as the singer slipped behind the backstage curtain, and a pint of beer came sailing down over Helen’s head.
Chapter 30
‘I can’t believe he’s actually here! Do you think any of those women was his girlfriend?’
Elle rolled her eyes as she undid her boots and put her feet into the stream, shivering at the cool water. ‘Is there any soap in that belt?’
Helen went through her pockets and chucked a miniature shower gel at her. ‘I’m serious, what do you think?’
‘I think they looked like a group of friends, going backstage at a festival, to somewhere much more fun than where we were …’ Elle sniffed the ends of her braids. It was going to take some time to get the smell out.
Elle was annoyed as security would emphatically not let her pass without an access all areas lanyard, no matter how much she negotiated. Also neither of them had realised that at festivals (‘UK festivals babe, this wouldn’t happen in Spain …’) it was customary to chuck your drinks in the air as you clapped. Helen and Elle had been coated in a mixture of fluids they identified as cider, Jack and coke, and, quite possibly, raspberry Slush Puppie.
As they’d imagined, the shower situation wasn’t great. One had become an impromptu water park for a group of guys dancing in and out of the shower calling it a rain dance. Helen didn’t like splashing. Another had a pile of soggy clothes bunched up around it, like an oozing carpet. The last one had a queue of over twenty people waiting for it. So they’d retreated back to the campsite to wash in the deserted stream.
Elle was up to her waist, wading through the clear water, shivering. ‘You know this is actually quite nice. Refreshing!’ she said rubbing shower gel around her bikini. ‘You should come in!’
Helen waded in up to her ankles. The water was cold but not unpleasant. She could see the small pebble bottom. She did a double check to make sure no other festival goers were around and peeled off her dress.
‘That’s my girl! So tonight we’re going to dress super-hot … don’t pull that face Helen! And we’re going to get you your man …’ Elle tossed the miniature shower gel back at Helen.
The sky was clear that night, leaving a smattering of stars, and a full moon to cast white light along the path to the main festival site. Someone had also considerately added flaming torches to the pathway. Wasn’t that a fire hazard? Elle swigged from a water bottle of rosé wine, and handed it over to Helen. Helen felt a warm buzz from the alcohol, and anticipation rising in her stomach. She fidgeted with the wrist straps of her butterfly wings. Could this really be it?
She actually felt, well, ready. She didn’t feel nervous, at least not as nervous as she thought she should be. Anticipation sat like a warm tingle in her stomach, and hadn’t yet spilled into waves of anxiety. She was safe. She actually looked good. Guys walking by on the path had cast appreciative looks, and not just at Elle.
The main site swarmed with happiness.
People sat in huddles painting one another’s faces, sipped each other’s drinks, and embraced strangers with the long hugs normally reserved for friends. Helen took another long swig of wine: maybe this wasn’t so bad. She fitted in just fine. Maybe she should rename herself ‘elf’?
A pair of fairy wings blinked; it was Fairy? Gosh, was Helen actually feeling social? She hoped they’d rehabilitated the shrew in the woods. Fairy, Aiden, and Chugs were sitting on some logs by the side of the main bonfire, which seemed to be the Hyphen nightclub of the Ship/Wrecked festival. Music hummed in the air. Could Helen feel herself dancing? Did she actually want some more wine? She took the water bottle to her lips.
Floating towards the wings, Helen walked to the main bonfire. Orange light cracked and reflected off the glitter on Elle’s face. A shadow passed her in the half-light, and turned towards her and smiled.
‘Helen?’
‘Brody?’
Brody lifted up his hands using his ‘guess so’ gesture.
‘You looked like you were daydreaming again …’
