Hot Rock

by Annie Seaton

  A pretty tablecloth and some flowers from the garden.

  “Do you have any candles?” She placed the basket on the counter and began to unload her purchases.

  “To take to the festival?” Jules turned around to a shelf behind the counter and picked up a small flashlight. “Safety wardens won’t let you light candles there. Here’s a torch for you, love.”

  “Thanks, but not for the festival. For a romantic dinner.”

  God, where did that come from? She was usually a private person and here she was blabbing out her intentions.

  Like an adolescent who had a crush on a rock star.

  A cold feeling began in the pit of her stomach and she stopped unloading the goods while one hand gripped the handle of the basket. How often had David picked up a fan and spent time with her after a performance? She’d read about performers who used sex to come down from the music high.

  Have I been taken advantage of? It had been like one of her teenage dreams come to life.

  “You alright, love?” Jules was looking at her curiously and she lifted her eyes slowly to the older woman’s face. Her gaze was kind and Megan nodded.

  “Yes, thanks, I’m fine.”

  And I will be. She’d been a willing participant in the whole episode and she just had to take him on trust.

  But maybe she’d give the candles a miss. He’d probably run a mile if he thought she was trying to be romantic.

  Just sex, cut the emotion.

  Megan stepped back and looked at the table setting. In the end, all she’d done was put a couple of place mats and placed a jar of yellow roses in the center of the table. The aromatic sauce was bubbling on the stove and her stomach grumbled. Hunger was gnawing at her but she’d wait for David. It was almost midnight and he should be back soon. In a way, she regretted not going back with him to see the performance, but based on the last two trips through the time slip, she would probably have slept through the entire performance anyway.

  A bottle of red wine sat decanting on the table and she walked over to the window above the sink. In the distance, blue light bathed the spire on Glastonbury Tor. There was so much to see here and she intended to do as much sightseeing as she could before she went back home to Sydney.

  Home.

  It was hard to focus on her life before the past two days. There were only a couple of days left of the festival. She really should go to the festival she’d come to attend. Then she would focus on going home and sorting out her appeal.

  Maybe David could come with me?

  Shaking her head, she determined to do some work toward her thesis. Her research since she’d arrived was nonexistent. She must get herself out of this thrall she seemed to be caught in. Guilt rippled through her as she thought about how she’d ended the call to Tony and Kathy. Her brother-in-law had only been trying to help her and she’d cut him off. In the morning, she’d call and apologize, and explain why she couldn’t come home.

  But how to explain what had happened to her?

  I don’t really care about my job and my life at home because I’ve fallen in love with the rock star of my teenage dreams? Not to mention the time travel that had gotten her into that situation.

  God. They’d lock me up. Then she replayed the words she’d just admitted to herself.

  Fallen in love. Where the hell did that come from?

  A noise outside caught her attention and Megan’s heart accelerated as she hurried over to the door with a smile. She opened the door and looked out into the dark, but there was no one there. The scuffling continued but it must have been a small animal in the garden.

  Disappointment overcame the impatience filling her chest. She wished he’d hurry up. The anticipation was becoming unbearable. Lowering the flame on the old gas stove, she gave the sauce a stir and filled another pan with water ready to cook the pasta as soon as he came in.

  After pouring a glass of wine, she went outside and sat on the back porch to wait. Even though it was midsummer, the night was cool and the stars glistened in the clear sky. In the distance, the soft music of the current festival drifted across the fields, broken only by the occasional low moo of a cow.

  Sipping her wine, she waited…and waited…and waited.

  By 3:00 a.m. and two glasses of wine, the table on the porch was wet where the dew had begun to settle. Anger had replaced Megan’s disappointment. Picking up the glass, she pushed open the kitchen door and went inside. She turned the stove off and tipped the water out of the pasta pot, tapping the pot loudly on the old stone sink to vent some of her disappointment.

  God. How gullible am I?

  David had obviously found someone else to take care of his needs. What was the saying?

  Any port in a storm?

  Too restless to sleep, she turned on her laptop and pulled up her files, curious to read the old articles about the festival and David, now that she could see him from a different perspective. First she pulled up the newspaper headline she had seen in the village store.

  Her chest closed and tears welled in her eyes as she read about the death of David’s girlfriend in 1970. As much as she’d known about his past from her reading over the years, it was the first time that had been mentioned. That piece of information had been omitted from his biography.

  Oh, fuck, the poor guy. No wonder he’d been so gruff when she’d first met him. She scrolled through the rest of files that the librarian had scanned and e-mailed to her.

  Her breath caught as she gasped. An article from ‘It’s Here and Now’ had the sensational headline Davy Loves the Ladies. Below the headline was a photo of David and a woman in a tight clinch on the stage. Her head whirled and she closed her eyes.

  It was her. Someone had taken a photo of them when David pulled her into his arms after the concert. A feeling of unreality tore at her and she struggled to catch her breath. It was only a photo of the back of her, but she knew it was her because she had been there. Warmth pooled between her thighs as the sexual desire that had consumed her during that concert came rushing back.

  Fuck you, David. Where are you?

  Megan scrolled through the rest of the article, and the warmth disappeared as she read the words and the sad truth settled in her stomach like a stone.

  Davy Morgan’s girlfriend, Holly Love, was rushed to hospital, the very night after he was pictured in the arms of the mysterious raven-haired beauty. He loves to love ’em and leave ‘em, does our Davy.

  Megan snapped the lid of the computer shut, drained her wine, and went to bed.

  The next morning, she lay in bed as dawn broke. A languor had taken over her limbs and she stayed in bed as the light on the white walls of the small bedroom turned a rosy pink. Just as when she’d had sex with David on the riverbank. During the couple of hours’ sleep she’d snatched, her dreams had been full of him, and she was reluctant to leave her bed where she felt so close to him.

  Singing to me, touching me… Promising he’d come back.

  She pulled herself out of her dream, reminding herself of what she’d read and how she’d been sucked in. Megan dragged herself out of bed, determined to forget David and go to the festival.

  Well, he didn’t come back. It’s time to get on with my research, and get on with real life. Forget this dream existence and go to the festival.

  The fucking 2014 festival.

  She dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, put on a pair of sneakers, gathered her recorder and notebook, and set off up the road. When she walked past Rose Cottage, she couldn’t help looking for him. She strolled past slowly and peered in. But the door was closed and there was no sign of life.

  Surely he’d come back safely? A cold glimmer of fear trickled down her back, but she pushed it back. He’d been coming through the time slip for years. He knew what he was doing.

  He’s a big boy, Megan. He’ll be okay.

  And there are obviously plenty of other women to worry about him.

  Today the village was jam-packed with vehicles and si
ghtseers heading toward the old abbey. Modern vehicles, SUVs, and small cars. Obviously the overflow from the festival had come to the village. Yesterday had been so much quieter but from the program, Megan knew today was the day when all the big-name bands were playing. That explained all the cars and the crowds.

  But despite that, she knew there’d be no David Morgan appearing.

  Megan made her way through the crowds and along the road to the farm at Pilton. It was so different from when she’d wandered along here in her bare feet only yesterday…or actually it was different from what it looked like in 1971—more than forty years ago.

  But now she needed to do what she had come here for and then book the first flight back to Australia. She needed to sort out her job.

  Her thesis took priority and the wealth of information she had collected at the 1971 festival yesterday needed to be written down out of her head and into her notes before she forgot it.

  Megan stayed at the festival for two hours before she headed back through the village, disillusioned. The 2014 festival didn’t have the vibe of the one she’d been to yesterday. Slick and commercial, it was full of advertising billboards, parking attendants, and security men checking every bag that was carried through the gate. The crowds were quiet and boring, and the music was modern, and did not touch her soul.

  She refused to admit to herself it was because David wasn’t there. It was simply different music, in a different time.

  My expectations were way off base. But at least it was all material for her thesis.

  Retrieving the key from the front porch, she put it in the door and glanced across at Rose Cottage wondering if David had come back.

  It didn’t matter. She was going home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  David stayed at the hospital in Taunton with Holly for the rest of the night while they ran tests, and he almost went stir-crazy. Luckily his wallet had been in his jeans pocket and he had enough money on him to get back to Glastonbury. Most of the time he spent with her she was still out of it and scared. He’d called her parents, and as soon as they arrived, he jumped on the morning bus back to Glastonbury.

  He was worried Megan would think he’d let her down. He’d promised her he’d be back that night, and he knew exactly what she’d think. The debauched rock star act he’d put on when he’d met her would help convince her he was unreliable and had just been using her.

  Christ, what bad timing.

  But maybe it was for the best if she thought that. As the bus drove slowly past the festival site toward the village, he came to his senses. Emma had died, and Holly had overdosed. If it hadn’t been for their association with him, they wouldn’t have gotten themselves into that situation. He wasn’t prepared to take care of another woman. This fucking bad-boy image meant his life was always lived on the edge and he didn’t need anyone else to be responsible for. He couldn’t keep her safe—especially through the time slips. She had a bad reaction to those.

  It was a few hours before midday, so he headed back to the tent, hoping to find the guys still there. Bear’s van was parked behind it, and he could hear Slim playing his guitar. David pushed the flap open and ducked his head as he entered the dim space.

  “Hey, man. How’s Holly?” Slim put his guitar aside.

  “She’s okay. She took something, but she’s come out of it now. Her parents are taking her back home to Scotland. Where’s Bear?” David followed Slim’s finger as he pointed to a pile of blankets near the entry to the tent. He hadn’t noticed the figure asleep when he’d come inside. David moved back to the door of the tent and stared out over the village as the sun climbed higher in the sky. “How did it go with Rothman?”

  “We celebrated most of the night.” The guitarist’s face broke into a wide grin. “You did it, man. Your singing clinched the deal. That performance was unreal. Mick’s drawing up the contracts now and wants us in the studio in London as soon as the festival is over. We’ll start recording our next album. Mick wants the first single released before the end of summer.”

  David let go of the breath he’d been holding. The first single of the Davy Morgan Band, which was their first big hit, had been released in the middle of July 1971.

  It seemed like everything was on track. His future and his income for the next forty years were secure. As long as they recorded the single, it would all be okay. All he had to do was go into the studio. And then he could go back to 2014 and the island. But first, he needed to say good-bye to Megan and let her go.

  “Okay, I’ll make sure I’m back here by then.”

  After making arrangements to meet them at the Glastonbury pub next week, David stepped outside and looked at the sky. Not long to go. Now he had to get to the stones and hope like hell Megan was still at the cottage. He had to cut ties with her for good—in both times.

  Taking a shortcut through the back of the village, he followed the same path he had taken with her only yesterday. It seemed as if years had passed. The sun was bright and the cows looked at him curiously as they munched on the grass while he strode past, his guitar slung over his shoulder. The sun reached its zenith and he stepped to the back of the middle stone and placed his hand on the surface, still warm from the sun.

  She was gone.

  The cottage was empty.

  Silence surrounded him.

  David welcomed the despair that settled over him like a dark shroud.

  It was for the best. Megan had her own life and her own future. He had his success and his life and his privacy with no worries about anyone in the Caymans. He leaned forward in the chair, dangling his hands between his knees. He had songs to write and music to record. His life would be full. So why did he feel so fucking empty?

  It was for the best. He had to convince himself of that. Rubbing his hand though his hair, he stood, picked up his guitar, and opened the front door. He stared at Violet Cottage as the rays of the setting sun highlighted the yellow roses spilling over the fence between the two homes. If he closed his eyes he could still see her wandering though the garden.

  He pushed open the gate to Alice’s place and smiled as a whiff of sandalwood brushed by him. He’d just sit over here for a while and play some music.

  As the sun dropped below the horizon and the sounds of night surrounded him, David closed his eyes and began to sing. He let the words come from his heart and the music soothed him.

  The song flowed and he faced the truth as the night passed. He had to learn to open his heart. Alice had been right. Emma had been responsible for her own actions, and so had Holly. Now he’d found Megan. He’d fought falling for her, trying to use the time barrier as an excuse, but as he sat on Alice’s patio, trying to be close to Megan, he admitted the truth.

  I love her. And I need her in my life.

  At midnight he put the guitar aside and stood, looking out over the dark garden. An owl hooted, breaking the silence, and he smiled.

  Megan was responsible for herself, and she had known what she wanted. The connection between them was meant to be…and he had let her go.

  “I know you’re gone Alice, but maybe you were right?” he whispered into the still night.

  Maybe I can find happiness?

  So all I have to do is bring her back to me.

  It was time to write the words that would bring Megan back to him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Well done, Megan.” Tony hugged her before they left the small office outside the vice-chancellor’s suite. Miss Robinson, the vice-chancellor’s secretary, pursed her lips in disapproval and Megan was tempted to blow a raspberry at the old cow. Instead, she smiled sweetly but got a rude grunt in reply.

  The hearing had been rescheduled to allow her enough time to fly back from England, and she’d left the cottage as soon as the festival was over. Winning her case after only one meeting with the disciplinary committee was a huge victory, and she grasped the written letter of apology from the vice-chancellor between her fingers. Greg Cannon had been dismissed for mak
ing false allegations and hacking her password, and Megan had been totally cleared of any wrongdoing.

  The trip back to London on the train and the flight back to Australia were a blur. And now, not only had she won her case and gotten her job back, with a good shot at the promotion, she also had the excitement of getting her notes out and working on her thesis with the wealth of material she’d picked up in Glastonbury.

  Life would be good

  “Celebratory drink?” Tony glanced down at his watch. “Kathy and Beth should be at the pub by now. Kathy’s looking forward to finally hearing all about your trip.”

  “I don’t know, Tony.” Megan smiled at him apologetically when he opened the glass door at the end of the corridor leading to the parking garage. “I think I’d prefer to go straight home. I’m really keen to get to work on my thesis.”

  “Come on, Megan, you’ve been home three weeks and you’ve been avoiding us like the plague. Kathy’s been trying to get you over for dinner for the past two weekends.”

  The last thing Megan wanted to do was talk about the trip to Glastonbury. While she hugged the thought and the memory of Davy to herself, he stayed real to her. For some strange reason, she felt that if she talked about her experiences at Glastonbury, she would wake up and realize it had all been a dream. For the time being, she didn’t want to share it with anyone. On her living room wall, she’d put up a huge poster of Davy and had spent hours looking at it since she’d come home. His smoldering eyes followed her around her apartment.

  Now that she’d won her appeal, and knowing she still had a job, maybe she’d get back to normal.

  And forget him. It was a pleasant visit and a once-in-a-lifetime experience that she couldn’t tell anyone about…

  Maybe spending time with her sister would help.

  “Okay, just one drink.”

  The Oaks hotel at Neutral Bay was crowded and Megan was greeted by a few friends as Tony led her out to the small bar at the back. Kathy was sitting with Beth at a table by an artificial-log fire and she jumped up when Megan and Tony entered the room.