A roar of laughter from a group of men shambling past me, bottles in hand, brought me out of my reverie. It was cold and I needed to keep moving. I wandered from marquee to marquee as I had done with Finn the previous night, but without him it wasn’t so much fun. The Glasgow ‘faux country’ band weren’t playing which was a real shame. I could have listened to them twenty times and not worried about company. Finn’s shift finished at ten, so about ten to I strolled over to the gate he was manning, to find out what he was planning to do afterwards.
He didn’t seem at all pleased to see me. He was having a long and unfriendly discussion with two burly men in dark coats. I hung back until that finished. The men didn’t come into the festival proper but strode away looking annoyed. I thought I heard one of them say, ‘You’ve done enough now … take care …’ But it was said under his breath so I might have been wrong.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Huh?’ Finn was still looking after the men and scowling. ‘Yeah, cool. Isn’t Juliana on soon? Aren’t you going to listen to her?’
I pulled a face. She wasn’t really my kind of music, too girly. ‘I might go and see what she’s like. She’s supposed to be on at ten but they’re running late.’
I waited for him to reply, but he didn’t say anything. The silence lengthened and for some reason this made me remember I hadn’t done my afternoon/evening text to Mum. I was wondering whether it was too late to do that now, when he said, ‘The bands are running late? There’s a surprise.’
‘Are you going to listen to her?’ I asked.
‘Might.’ He was still frowning, hardly bothering to check the wristbands of people coming in.
‘Well, maybe I’ll see you …’ I turned away. I wasn’t going to hang around if he was going to be in one of his moods. Earlier we’d been getting on so well. I really didn’t understand him. I was almost out of the meagre pool of light around the gateway when he said, ‘Aren’t you going to wait for me?’
I hesitated. Was he feeling sorry for me again?
‘I’ll only be five minutes, if bloody Cami turns up on time for his stint.’
‘Okay.’ I still felt resentful. Why was he so unpredictable? Maybe I would ask him what the problem was, later. For the moment, I gave in to the warm feeling that he wanted me to wait with him. I went and stood by him and we watched the small trickle of festival-goers in silence until his shift was over.
Then we headed back towards the main stage and somehow we were holding hands again. I don’t know how his hands could be so warm when mine were freezing. It felt good.
‘You been okay on your own?’
‘Yes, I’m fine. It’s Marcus who’s supposed to be keeping an eye on me, not you.’ Not that I’d seen Marcus once since I’d learnt this fact, not even in the distance.
‘Sorry I asked.’
We paused on the edge of the crowd who had gathered to wait for the famous, beautiful (but possibly not very talented) Juliana. It was the biggest audience I’d seen so far, a real mixture of people from the crazy, exotic crew Becky hung out with through sensible middle-aged couples in matching anoraks to rowdy, under-dressed teenagers. Beatrice Graham was there with some of her friends from school. I stayed away from them.
Eventually Juliana came on stage and the music started. She had the trademark big black hair but looked a lot smaller in person than on television. She actually wasn’t bad, and we danced for a while, which warmed me up. I hadn’t noticed how cold I’d got.
Finn had a really amazing way of moving. I wished I could do something like that. He was such a natural and I was completely useless.
‘Where did you learn to dance?’ I asked during one pause.
He frowned. ‘My mum taught dancing for a while. Sometimes I had to help out in the dance classes. Not a fourteen-year-old boy’s idea of fun.’
Well, that explained the way he moved, how he’d known the steps to do with Becky. I tucked away this little piece of information, adding it to the picture I was trying to build of Finn.
Then Juliana started singing a whole lot of slow songs, and the skies opened for another sudden downpour. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ said Finn. I thought he’d head for the pub tent like the previous night, it was the one place guaranteed to be warm and dry, but instead he branched off towards the campsite.
Was that it, then? It wasn’t even midnight and I hadn’t been planning to call it a day so soon. Nobody else was. The stalls were still open, bands playing on every single stage, crowds swirling from one to another. Some of them were seriously drunk (as in keeling right over and lying in the mud – wow, I’d never seen that happen in real life before) but most were just in rowdy high spirits.
Why was I letting him dictate what we did? I didn’t want to miss out on any of this. I stopped suddenly and made a move to turn round, despite the rain.
‘We can go back later if you want,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you hungry? I was going to make some soup. You’re shivering and I haven’t eaten for hours.’
When he put it like that it sounded a whole lot more attractive. Soup and a sit down were just what I needed. That was one thing definitely lacking around the festival site – places to sit.
We headed to Finn’s tent and struggled inside. He made me take off my wet jacket and hung it on one of the poles, and gave me a fleece of his to put on. I shrugged my way into it and felt cheered, not just because of the warmth.
I sat cross-legged on his sleeping bag and watched while he found a lamp and then set up the little stove under the awning and placed the pan of soup on it. The rain had stopped as suddenly as it had started, but it was still wet outside and I was glad to huddle in the warmth of the tent.
Once he had made sure the soup was heating properly, he came and sat beside me. And put his arm around me. I could feel my heart going bang bang bang. Was he going to kiss me? I really wanted him to kiss me. I made to turn towards him, but then he said, ‘Are you warm enough now?’
Great. He was just doing his looking-after-people thing again.
I rested my head on his shoulder, all the same. I hadn’t been this close to a boy in a while – and I don’t think I’d ever been with a boy I liked as much as I liked Finn. Stupid, cheating Philip Bailey didn’t come near. I wished we could have carried on sitting like that, but soon the soup was boiling and he poured it into mugs and handed me one.
‘Thanks.’ I cupped my fingers around it. It was some kind of vegetable broth, hot and salty, and we sipped it in silence. It was a comfortable silence. I could enjoy being there with him, just the two of us.
Then, when I’d finished my mug I spoilt the mood totally by asking, ‘Who were those men you were talking to at the gate?’
I could see his slim face clearly, the faint growth of stubble, the high cheekbones and strange pale eyes. His expression went from relaxed to guarded in an instant.
‘No one special. Just some people hassling to get in without tickets.’
I hadn’t actually been that interested before, but I was now. ‘They didn’t look like your usual festival-goer. Kind of older and more – serious.’
There was something out of place about them I couldn’t put my finger on. Maybe their neat short hair, or their tidy clothes and clean shoes.
Finn picked up the two mugs and put them carefully inside the dirty pan, for washing later. ‘Shall we go back?’
‘Why will you never tell me anything?’ Suddenly I’d had enough of it all. ‘Why the secrets? Why can’t you just tell the truth for once? You were arguing with them. There must have been some reason.’
He put the pan down with a bang that rattled the mugs. ‘You want to know who they were? Okay. They were the police. Plain-clothed, from, hmm, Crime Management Services I think they call it these days. So what do you think of that?’
I must have half-suspected this, because his words didn’t surprise me. I nodded and said, ‘So what did they want? Surely if they were police you should have let them in.’
‘They
didn’t want to come in.’
‘Was it about the missing painting?’
‘No.’
‘Oh. I suppose it was drugs, then.’
‘Not really.’ He pushed himself up the length of the tent, so he was sitting as far from me as possible, pressed up against an old leather guitar case. He had his hands clasped tightly together. ‘They were giving me some advice. The tall guy suggested maybe this wasn’t the best place for me.’
His face was in shadow now and I squinted across at him, trying to make sense of his words. All I could see were thin pale fingers twisting around each other.
‘Go on, then,’ he said nastily. ‘Aren’t you going to ask why he thought I should leave? Don’t you want to know why he was worried about me?’
‘Only if you want to tell me,’ I said. Actually, I don’t think I did want to know anymore. I felt scared. I’d never seen him upset like this.
‘You know my mother’s dead?’
I nodded, my heart beating loudly. So this was it, he was going to talk about it. I suddenly wished he wouldn’t.
‘She died at a festival just like this one.’ He spoke slowly, his voice totally flat now. ‘She died of a drug overdose. She went to the festival even though I begged and begged her not to. I even shopped her to the police, because I thought they’d arrest her and that would stop her, but the idiots let her out on bail.’
I remembered what Cami had said about him shopping his own mother. So it had been true in a way. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of something helpful to say, and failing.
Finn ran a hand through his hair. ‘Anyway, she insisted on going, so I went with her. I thought maybe if I was there … But I couldn’t watch her all the time and she had a bad batch, or overdid it, because, you know, she’d been clean for a bit. Or … God knows. Anyway, she died. Went to sleep in her tent and … They took her to hospital and everything, but it was too late. That policeman I was talking to was part of the drug squad, the ones we had to deal with afterwards. He wasn’t a bad guy. Amazing, really, for a policeman. The social workers were the pits, but he was okay.’
He finished his story in a calm, low voice, and there was silence.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said uselessly. I wanted to cry. I was afraid Finn was going to start crying.
‘So now you know why I hate all this drug stuff.’ He’d stopped twisting his hands together and dropped them into his lap. He sounded exhausted.
I crawled up the tent and knelt beside him. After a moment’s hesitation, I put my arms around him. I held him tight. We sat like that for a long time. I didn’t have a clue what to say. I couldn’t even conceive of what it must be like to lose your mother. To have her die at a festival just like this.
So I just held him tight, solid and warm and very still, and tried not to think about it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
GEORGE
We didn’t go back and listen to any more music after that. Eventually Finn said he was going to turn in and I went back to my own empty tent. I cried a bit, for Finn, for his mother. For Becky. Was this why he was so paranoid about her? Did he think she was overdose material? I shivered, huddled in my sleeping bag, and wished I didn’t know any of this.
My parents weren’t exactly easy. Mum was such a fusser, and expected me to help with the babies and do max studying and have a social life, which was a bit much. But she was okay, really. She would never let me down, never do anything like take drugs and then die on me. And Dad, even if I didn’t see so much of him because he wasn’t that keen on kids, he still did his bit when he was around. He still looked out for me, like the way he was hassling about me not being home alone.
What must it be like to have parents who were so useless you had to look out for them? And then who weren’t there at all? If Marcus or his mother was Finn’s guardian, or whatever you called it, I didn’t see them being much support.
Poor Finn.
But I didn’t want him to be poor Finn. I wanted him to be the one who knew what was going on and could handle it, even if he wouldn’t tell me half the time. I didn’t want him to be fragile and have problems like other people.
I was such a selfish bitch.
And I wished he’d let me sleep in the tent with him. Just to hold him, to be close. I’d been willing to stay, but he’d sent me back here. He preferred being on his own to being with me. Which was great, just great.
And why was I thinking about things like that now, when I should be feeling so sorry for him? I was such a selfish bitch.
FINN
Fool. Idiot. Pathetic bastard. So you wanted someone to feel sorry for you? Well, she feels sorry for you. Isn’t that just marvellous?
I punched my pillow so hard it hurt, so I punched it again. Harder.
And yet. And yet. As I lay there in the dark, not listening to the heavy bass beat, or the too-loud voices, I couldn’t help feeling … a little bit better. Not good. Not as though everything was fine, because it wasn’t. But like it wasn’t as bad as it had been.
George was just so honest. I’d seen how horrified she’d been, how upset, how genuinely sorry. But she hadn’t withdrawn. She put her arms round me, and I had to admit, that felt pretty good. It was a while since anyone had done that. Neither of my aunts were the hugging kind, and who else was going to put their arms round me if they didn’t?
I thought she might even have stayed, if I’d asked her. We could have kissed. Shared my sleeping bag. Got close.
Except I didn’t do getting close, so I’d told her to go.
That didn’t stop me wishing I hadn’t, though.
GEORGE
It was only when I woke up the following morning I realised I’d completely forgotten to send my evening texts the day before. Shit. I dressed hurriedly and went to see how Finn was, but he had already disappeared. This was fairly normal, but I couldn’t help worrying. He didn’t usually talk about his mum, I realised that, and I had made him. What if he was really upset?
I looked around for him, but couldn’t see any sign.
Well, if he wasn’t here, it at least gave me the opportunity to go and get that backstage pass from Dex. Then I would send those texts, and then I would find Finn.
I washed and put on some foundation and eyeliner, then set off for the campervan section, going round the back of the site to try and avoid being seen. I was particularly keen to avoid Finn or Marcus just now.
It was just my luck I should bump into Marcus as soon as I started walking along the metal flooring they used to stop the paths here getting so muddy.
‘Hiya, how you doing?’ he said. Wow, friendly! Just when I didn’t want it. ‘Heard anything from Beck?’
‘No. I tried yesterday but her phone’s switched off.’ I hesitated. ‘Thanks for taking her to – that place.’
‘No problem.’ He looked at me for a moment, very grim. He had straight dark hair, like Cami. I knew he was considered good-looking, but I wasn’t into all that glowering. He just made me uneasy. ‘Let me know if you need anything.’
Then he turned and strolled off.
I waited until he was out of sight before I went to knock on the door of Dex’s van. Marcus couldn’t have realised where I was going or I was pretty sure he’d have said something. He had his reasons for disliking Dex because of Becky, and Finn did too because of his mum. But for once Dex was being nice, getting me the pass, although there was no point trying to explain that to them.
There was no response so I knocked on the door again. Still nothing. Great. I’d got myself all psyched up, and now I was going to have to come back later. And someone was sure to see me then. Feeling peeved, I made my way back to my tent and tried to think of something I could have for breakfast.
I discovered Becky had left behind her muesli – result! – so I used the last of the milk on that and a big mug of tea. Then, after another unsuccessful search for Finn, I made a second trip to Dex’s van. The sooner I got this sorted the better.
I went around
the back of the site again, this time climbing part of the way up the banking so I could spy out Marcus or anyone else who might be hanging around to give me an unwelcome surprise. I saw Cami on the far side of the festival ground but I couldn’t see any sign of Dex so maybe he was back in his van.
And then, just as I began to descend, I saw the door of the van open. It wasn’t Dex who came out but a short, stocky man I had never seen before. He looked quickly to left and right and then headed up the banking himself, veering away from me and disappearing into the trees.
Without even thinking, I turned to follow.
Nobody acting that suspiciously could be doing something legit. I don’t know what I thought I might find but I wanted to do something. If Dex was dealing in drugs, and was the one who had got Becky into them, then I suppose what I wanted to do was get him into trouble.
I’d find out where this guy was going and then I’d … well, I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but I’d think of something.
I must have learnt from Finn as I managed to move pretty quietly. The man never even turned to look behind him. I could easily follow his pale top through the trees. I was thankful for once I was wearing something dark – the fleece I had borrowed from Finn last night, as it happened. I pulled up the hood to hide my annoying hair.
After a while the man reached one of the forest tracks, and he turned left along this. I kept on following him, but I was beginning to lose heart. He could easily have a car parked up here and I would never be able to follow that.
But no vehicle appeared. Instead, I realised the track was bending continuously to the left, taking us in a wide loop around the valley, so eventually we were on totally the opposite side. We were up above the river here, somewhere in the vicinity of the path I had followed that first night, the one we had seen Dex go up when he collected that bulky parcel.
I began to feel I was on to something. I was sweating and probably pink in the face, but I was excited, too. There must be a reason why the man was coming round here. Maybe this was where everything was hidden? Certainly no drugs had been found in Dex’s van during the police raid and they had to be kept somewhere …
Music and Lies (George and Finn Book 1) Page 14