by Annie Seaton
“Where am I?”
“At the Glastonbury festival. This is the St. John’s first aid tent. You’ve been out of it for a few hours. The doctor checked you out earlier but he didn’t want to send you to the hospital because they’re out of room over there. He said to keep an eye on you and let you sleep it off.”
“We’ve got some questions for you before we can let you go.”
Megan nodded.
“First off, sweetheart, what’s your name?”
“Megan Miller.”
“Do you know the date?”
She squeezed her eyes closed. “It’s the first day of the festival so I guess it’s the 26th June.”
“Good girl, Last question. What’s your address?”
“In England or in Australia?”
“Here.” Her thoughts were getting back into some sort of order and the dull headache had eased.
“The McLaren place. Violet Cottage, just across the field.”
“Done good, love. Up you hop.”
A loud crash of drums and guitars came in through the open flap and the older man frowned. “Davy Morgan’s band is about to play. I swear they’re the loudest here. Hate that modern music.”
The young guy laughed. “But the young girls love him, Reg. We’ll have the next wave of them swooning and passing out within the hour. You mark my words.”
Megan followed the exchange with confusion as the events of the morning flooded her mind. “David Morgan’s here? And his band is playing?” She swung her legs off the side of the bed. “He’s all right, then?”
“Aye, he’s all right,” the man called Reg said. “He’s been caterwauling that newfangled music out there all afternoon. You’re lucky you slept through it, love.”
Megan stood carefully as the young man held on to her arm. He passed her the hat she’d grabbed from the hook this morning. “You had no shoes on when you came in, but you should be able to get a pair of those rope sandals at one of them hippie stalls.”
“You watch what you’re doing out there, young lady.” Reg towered over her with his hands on his hips and a stern look on his face. “We don’t want to see you in here again. You feeling okay now?”
“Yes, thank you. I’m fine.” Megan looked down at her bare feet. Her jeans were muddy around the bottom, but her clothes were dry. “I’m just going to go home. Honestly, I didn’t take anything. I must have fainted.”
Maybe it was delayed jet lag? Or it could have been that vintage wine we drank last night?
Maybe it was all a dream? But when she turned, Megan knew she was awake and this was real. She stepped towards the opening in the tent and turned back to the two men before leaving. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Their attention was already on another woman lying on a stretcher on the other side of the room and the young man lifted one hand in a brief wave. Megan lifted the tent flap and stepped outside. It was almost dusk and the rays of the setting sun lit up Glastonbury Tor in the distance.
The quirky voice of one of her favorite artists from the seventies, Melanie Safka, drifted across to her on the still evening air. The words of the song “Brand New Key” sounded out in a melancholy wave. Either they were piping in recorded music or whoever was singing was a brilliant cover artist. Megan looked around curiously. The festival was nowhere near as crowded as she’d expected, apart from a large group of people gathered around a pyramid of scaffolding on the other side of the field. As the song faded away, a bright orange flash lit the night sky and strident guitar chords blared out. Clouds of smoke billowed above the stage as the sun slipped below the horizon in a brilliant shaft of gold.
The ground was muddy outside the tent and she looked around, trying to figure out the way back to Violet Cottage. She was still confused and unsure of what had happened. Her feet were bare, she had no money on her or her festival ticket, and she’d left the house unlocked. As soon as she could figure out which direction to go, she’d head home. Turning around, she looked across the dark field but couldn’t see any lights in the distance. A group of people came up the path behind her, and she was jostled across the grass towards the pyramid stage.
“Oh, man, how cool is that.” The man beside her grabbed her arm and pointed, as another huge orange flare lit up the sky. “Look, working with the universe, man.”
Megan shook his hand from her arm and hung back as they walked past her. The men all had shoulder-length hair and two of the women were wearing nothing from the waist up.
It was nothing like any of the rock festivals she’d been to in Australia. She wished she had her bag and camera with her to take notes and photos. Then she remembered her Smartphone in her pocket. Pulling it out, she tried to turn it on but the battery must have gone dead again because the screen stayed dark and blank when she pushed the buttons.
This festival was casual, nothing like the slick barricaded events she’d attended at home. She hoped they wouldn’t ask to see her ticket on the way out as she had nothing with her apart from the cotton hat now scrunched up in her hand.
That’s if I can find the way out. More people were coming up the path and she was jostled closer to the stage as they pushed past her. The smell of dope was overpowering and there was not a security person in sight.
“Peace, man.”
“Love, man.”
The words echoed around her as the throngs of festival goers headed towards the stage. The voice of her favorite singer sounded loud and pure through the huge speakers suspended from the top of the pyramid.
Megan pushed her way through to the front of the crowd. Her attention was totally focused on the familiar voice in front of her, and she elbowed and jostled until she could see the band. The music was deafening and the beat reverberated in her chest.
Bright lights glared down from the stage, and she put her hand to her eyes as the lights blinded her for a moment. The noise was incredible. She dropped her hand to her side and looked up at the stage.
David stood with his eyes closed and his lips caressing the microphone as the words and voice of his uncle, Davy Morgan, came from his mouth. Megan closed her eyes and swayed with the music. His voice was identical and the song was one she knew by heart.
It could have been Davy Morgan himself.
***
David got to the end of the first line of the song and looked down at the crowd in front of the stage. A mass of waving, swaying bodies, bright eyes, and bare chests filled his vision under the bright spotlight at the side. Most of the women had skimpy tops on…if they had a top on at all. There was more than one flash of bare boobs and he grinned across at Slim.
Slim was in his element. The bass guitarist was a breast man through and through.
As David belted out the words at the end of the second verse, his gaze settled on a face he recognised. His eyes widened in disbelief as shock hit him like a truck
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
He recovered and kept singing but his chest closed as tension gripped his muscles.
Please God, let me be wrong.
Moving forward to the centre of the stage, he looked down at the woman who’d caught his attention.
Hell and damnation. It was Megan. Gazing up at him, her mouth was open, her face pale…but her expression was full of awe and adoration. Her head turned as though she sensed him looking at her, and as her gaze locked with his a sweet smile brought her face alive.
David couldn’t take his eyes from her face as the blood pushed through his veins in a slow thumping surge. The pace of the music picked up and he kept singing even though time had come to a grinding halt.
Don’t leave me, stay with me,
I will love you forever
Through time itself.
He sang the words without thinking about them until he reached the end of the chorus.
How fucking appropriate. Except for the bit about love.
How the hell had the woman from the twenty-first century turned up here in front of him at the fucking 1971 Gl
astonbury Festival? She had bewitched him and now he had a major problem on his hands. She must have known about the stones all along. He spun around at the end of the song, caught Bear’s eyes, and nodded towards Megan.
Bear’s eyes widened and he mouthed back at David. “How the fuck did she get here?”
David shrugged, and Bear launched into the drum roll that began the final song of their set.
David closed his eyes. Sweat soaked his shirt and the usual gimmick at the end of the last song was to pull his shirt off and throw it to the crowd.
This is going to be the performance of my life.
He took a deep breath, cleared his mind of everything but the song, and let the words fill his soul. The music dropped off and a hush fell over the crowd. They knew what was coming. Slim hit the guitar pedal and a series of long mournful notes hovered in the air. David stepped to the front of the stage and let the microphone stand go as he slowly peeled his shirt off and threw it into the crowd. A roar from below filled his ears as the drums kicked in. He picked up his guitar and looped the strap around his neck as Slim hit the deep notes on his bass guitar. The music reverberated through the night air and surged through his blood. Heat filled him from within and he had never felt more alive than he did in that moment. The night, the people, the pulsating music joined in one wave and he was at one with the universe. The muse was back and the synergy among the band, the music, the words, and the crowd was complete.
Pure, clean energy filled him. The connection had been made.
He reached the end of the chorus and a euphoric haze filled him. David stopped singing and let his gaze drop to Megan. The noise from the crowd surged as they sang the words.
Her eyes were fixed on him and her cheeks were flushed. Joy filled her expression and he realised that she felt it, too. Picking up the microphone, he sang the next verse. A shaft of pure sexual desire ran through him and his feelings poured out through the words of the song and the crowd roared in appreciation as he gyrated on the stage.
One final spin and the words died away with the music. David reached out and brushed his fingers across the dozens of hands stretching across the front of the stage as he ran from left to right. He paused when he came to where Megan stood.
He knelt down on one knee and held his hand out to her, calling loudly over the noise of the crowd.
“Don’t move. Stay right here.” She looked up at him and he squeezed her fingers between his.
“I’ll be down in less than five minutes,” he said.
She nodded, her dark eyes glittering with emotion.
David waved to the crowd as Bear gave one final drum roll and the next band moved on to the stage. The lead singer from Fairport Convention grabbed the microphone and yelled to the crowd. “Hey, guys and gals, do Davy Morgan and his band rock or what?”
A huge cheer went up as the crowd chanted for more and David took the microphone back for a moment. “More later. We’re back on in the morning,” he promised with a wave. “Don’t go away.”
He looked across at Bear and passed him his guitar as he ran off the stage and headed for the steps.
God, Megan, Don’t move. How the bloody hell did you get here?
For the life of him, he had no idea how she had found the gate. But she obviously had. Had the McLarens told her? Alice must have told her family about it, although she had sworn no one else knew. And now he had to get her back to the cottage before dawn and find his way back to the festival because it was bloody hard to find the correct lines and markers at the wrong time of day—as he’d discovered a few nights ago when he had come home to find Megan on his porch. Dawn, dusk, and midday were the easiest, if not the only, times to cross through the time gate.
“There’s no way she can stay. If she gets lost, I’ll never find her and she’ll never find her way back by herself.” Panicked, he tore down the steps.
“David, wait.”
He stopped dead as Holly appeared and grabbed his arm. “Not now. I have to go.”
“I have to talk to you.” Holly’s eyes were unfocused as she stared at him and her words were slightly slurred. “It’s real important.”
He looked down at her and she raised her hands to grab each side of his face. “David, you were beautiful. You did yourselves…the best…the best...”
David lifted her hands away. “Later, Holly.”
Before he could move away, she pushed into him and her hands were on the front of his pants. “You have gotten me so hot, David.” She’d never spoken to him like that before. Despite his disapproval of her publicity ideas, they’d always maintained a professional relationship.
“What the fuck are you on, Holly?” He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her. Her pupils were dilated and she stared past him.
“Have you being smoking dope?” He grasped her arms, and led her to the stairs he’d just come down. Seconds later, Bear appeared at the top.
“Mate, look after her, will you? I’ve got to go and find Megan before she disappears.”
Holly was with it enough to glare at him. “Who’s Megan?”
David didn’t answer as he handed her over to Bear and he took off as the electric folksy music of Fairport Convention began to play. He ducked and weaved through the roaring crowd as hands reached out to him, but most of their attention was on the new band on the stage. His arms and chest were slick with the sweat running down his neck and face, and he reached up and pushed his hair back as it stuck to his brow and dropped across his eyes.
Finally he stood at the side of the stage and anxiously scanned the crowds.
Thank the gods.
Her reddish hair stood out like a beacon against the bright light and he pushed his way through the crowd.
“Watch it, man.” One of the concertgoers shoved him with his elbow as he tried to reach Megan but apologised as soon as he looked over at David.
“Oh, sorry. Hey, look girls, it’s Davy Morgan.”
David shook his head and grabbed Megan’s arm. She turned to him, her face rapt. Twin spots of colour stained her cheeks and she reached up and wiped her tears away with a shaking hand. He took her hand firmly in his and cleared a path through the crowd. Silently he led her away from the solid mass of noise, behind the pyramid and towards the riverbank. Along the way they passed three couples on the ground, totally oblivious to the world, immersed in their own private activity.
Megan’s soft gasp reached him in the darkness as she moved to the side before she stepped on a naked couple entwined on the grass in the middle of the path.
Finally they were away from the noise and the crowd. The air was soft and still as they came to a stop beside the riverbank.
Megan looked up at him wordlessly and he held his arms out to her.
***
She leaned into David’s bare chest. It was hot and slick with sweat. Closing her eyes, she felt safe for the first time since she’d fainted in the field this afternoon. It was like coming home. His strong arms held her close and the smell of sweat and stage makeup filled her senses. Finally he spoke and his voice seemed guarded.
“How did you get here, Megan? Do you know about the stones?”
“Yes, I know the Stones are due here. What’s that got to do with anything?” She stepped back from him and crossed her arms. A shiver went through her. Now that she was away from the excitement of the performance and out in the open air, the night was cool. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as she looked up at David.
His face was closed, so different from the energy and life it had been filled with on the stage.
“He called you Davy Morgan.” Confusion filled her. “Why did he call you Davy?”
David dropped his forehead against hers as he reached for her elbows and his warm breath fluttered her hair.
“Because that’s who I am,” he said simply.
“You do his songs so well. It is almost as though you are him.”
Ice skittered through Megan’s limbs as David lifted his head and
looked out over the fields into the dark night.
“I have to get you home, Megan.” His voice was quiet and distant. “Quickly.”
Something was wrong and she didn’t understand what was happening.
“Why?”
“Because you shouldn’t be here.”
“I know. I haven’t even got my ticket or my stuff. I really didn’t intend to come here. I followed you when you fell. I thought you’d taken ill. I was worried when I couldn’t find you. And then I must have fainted because I woke up in the first aid tent.” She reached her hand up to his face but he stepped back and dropped his hands from her arms before her fingers reached his cheek. “But now that I’m here and I’ve heard the music, I want to stay. I can’t miss a minute of this. It makes me feel so alive.”
David turned away from her and the strong moonlight highlighted the proud line of his back as he stood bare-chested beside her. A surge of hot desire spiraled through her and settled low in her belly. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Her heart beat in her throat, slow and steady as she searched for words, but they didn’t come so she reached out and let her hands speak for her. She trailed her fingers from his shoulders slowly down his hot, damp skin until her fingers paused at the top of his tight black jeans. Ever since she had kissed him last night, she’d known this moment was inevitable.
His skin twitched beneath her fingers but still he didn’t turn to her. She breathed in deeply and walked around to face him. Trailing her finger slowly down his bare chest from the base of his neck to the top of his jeans, her fingers lingered on the metal button at the top of the zipper and he dropped his head into her neck. She sighed as his hot lips moved down to her shoulder and he nipped at her skin with his teeth.
Pulling back, he muttered with a low groan. “I have to get you home, Megan.”
“Soon.” She would die if he didn’t touch her. “After.”
Now.
He pulled her deeper into the shadows next to the softly babbling water. They were alone and the noise of the concert was faint in the distance.
“I want you.” His words were simple and she held his dark eyes with hers. The heat from his skin warmed Megan and pushed her further over the edge. There was no going back.