‘Not we,’ Maddie reminded him. ‘You.’

  ‘This might be the first time in history you’ve been hungover when we aren’t,’ I marvelled as the golf cart took a sharp left turn, almost bouncing all four of us out of our seats. ‘This momentous occasion needs to be marked somehow.’

  ‘It should be our friendiversary,’ Em declared. ‘I would definitely like to be reminded of the look on his face every year for the rest of my life.’

  ‘Oh, I like that,’ I agreed, clinging to the handle on the roof of the cart as our driver turned another corner, this time on two wheels. ‘If we make it to the festival alive, we’ll make it official.’

  ‘That’s three more things ticked off your list. Friendiversary, festival and your knicker drawer overhaul. How are you getting on with your new pants?’

  Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I grimaced slightly, too afraid to let go of the golf cart to adjust the perma-wedgie I’d had ever since I put on the other thing Em picked up when she went out for muffins. ‘I just don’t think crotchless lace thongs necessarily scream “married woman”,’ I replied.

  ‘More like they’re quietly whispering “yeast infection”,’ Maddie said, looking at my baggy denim dungarees with some concern. ‘You’re going to end up with a vag full of sand, I’m sorry, Rachel but it’s true.’

  ‘A natural exfoliant,’ Em said with an OK sign. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Do you mind? I’m hungover,’ Matthew yelled. ‘Enough vagina talk!’

  Our driver’s foot slipped off the accelerator, sending us all flying forward at the mere mention of the V word. He would not do well with us for a prolonged period of time. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled as we rearranged ourselves and I pulled the long strap of my handbag over my head and across my body. ‘I’ll have you at the gate in two more minutes.’

  ‘Would that we live that long,’ Matthew muttered. ‘Someone tell Stephen that my last thought was of him.’

  ‘You’re sure it won’t be of your sunglasses?’ Maddie asked innocently.

  ‘On the dining room table?’ I added.

  ‘Next to the vase of powder-pink peonies?’ Emelie finished.

  ‘I hate you all,’ he said, pulling the brim of his hat down even lower. ‘The three witches of IndioFest.’

  ‘And don’t you forget it,’ Em said draping her arms over mine and Maddie’s shoulders with a huge grin on her face.

  Everything about the festival was overwhelming. We checked in at the ticket gate, exchanging paper printouts for laminated cards as I did a full 360 spin, taking in the sights, the sounds and dear god, the smells. It was like the inside of a sauna mixed with a student union and a particularly well-trafficked branch of Lush. Thousands of people in bold, bright colours swarmed around us in an olfactory orgy of sickly sweet sunscreens, cheap body spray and BO. No wonder no one made a music festival-scented candle. In the near distance, I saw the famous Ferris wheel turning slowly while people milled around us, laughing, singing and holding hands. A low, hot wind blew across the bone-dry festival ground, kicking up a dust storm, and I couldn’t have been more grateful for Maddie’s impeccable preparation if I’d tried. We all had hats, we were all lathered in factor 100 and we were all wearing variations on a boot theme — me in Em’s prized vintage cowboy boots, Em and Matthew in matching desert boots and Maddie in a pair of extremely well-worn-in cherry-red Doc Martens. I’d fought against the footwear back at the house but in the five minutes since we hopped off the golf cart-cum-death trap, I’d already seen four different women trip over their own flip-flops, and I was all but kicking my heels together and shouting ‘yee-haw!’. If she chose it, Maddie was going to make the most incredible mum one day. Any of Dan’s genetic inclination towards an attention to detail seemed to have been funnelled into his job as a photographer and as she passed a bottle of hand sanitizer around, I wondered, not for the first time, if I hadn’t agreed to marry the wrong sibling.

  ‘Right,’ Em said, pulling up the spaghetti strap of her little green dress. ‘Drinks?’

  ‘Absolutely fucking not,’ Matthew replied. ‘I need a quiet corner with several thousand fewer people in it. Aren’t we VIP? Isn’t there a VIP area? I’m mostly looking to be in the kind of place Jared Leto might choose to hang out.’

  I checked the map on the laminated card that now hung from a lanyard around my neck and nodded. ‘Over there,’ I said, pointing to a still suspiciously crowded-looking area beyond a second check point. ‘Although it doesn’t say anything about Jared.’

  ‘Believe it and he will come,’ he said, pressing a hand against his flat stomach. ‘I’m off to use the bogs before they turn into The Somme. I’ll meet you at the VIP bar.’

  ‘Maddie, want to help me get the drinks in?’ Em said as he set off with a purposeful stride.

  ‘Um, OK?’ She had a look on her face that suggested she thought this might be a trap. As did I. ‘Are you coming, Rach?’

  Emelie shook her head quickly as I fumbled for a response.

  ‘No, I want to look at that stall over there,’ I said, pointing at the closest possible thing.

  Maddie followed my finger and squinted. ‘You want to talk to someone about the flat earth conspiracy and the lizard people who live among us?’

  ‘What can I say?’ I replied with a shrug. ‘I’m a people person. I’ll find you by the bar.’

  The two of them set off for the VIP area, leaving me in the middle of the dried-out field, surrounded by women wearing flower crowns, bikini tops and glittery body art and the kind of men who were completely confident wearing sheer neon mesh vests in the middle of the day. One of said men, this one in a large leather cowboy hat, his nipples poking through his green tank top, stopped in front of me.

  ‘Hey, you looking for something, mami?’

  ‘Um, no?’ I replied, wondering whether or not I should offer him SPF for his nips. ‘But thank you?’

  ‘Whatever you need, I got,’ he said with a wink. My eyes skirted down to his crotch where he was pointing at me from inside the pocket of his denim hotpants. Unless my gaydar was completely on the blink, I was sure he couldn’t mean his penis, which only meant …

  ‘Oh, you mean drugs!’ I exclaimed happily, before looking around for undercover policemen and holding my breath. ‘Thanks for the offer but I’m alright, thank you though, thanks a lot. None for me. Thanks.’

  ‘It’s all good,’ he breezed off, arms stretched out on either side of him like a human aeroplane, a rhythmic wave rippling from the tips of his left fingers all the way to the tips of the right.

  ‘Why aren’t people afraid of getting arrested?’ I exhaled as I watched him go, remembering the time I left a black-tie ball in the back of a police car, handcuffed, with Emelie by my side. Not something I was looking to repeat on this trip.

  After ten minutes of aimless wandering and hovering at the edge of huge crowds dancing to bands I’d never heard of, I set off for the VIP area. Surely ten minutes was long enough for Matthew to do whatever he needed to do in the lavs and for Emelie and Maddie to make peace. Not that Maddie had been difficult with Em in the slightest, she was used to dealing with stressed-out drama queens and bearing the brunt of other people’s meltdowns from her job. She was well practiced in the art of not taking things personally, but it meant a lot to me that Emelie wanted to apologize and make peace. I had a sneaking suspicion they could actually end up being very good friends.

  I pulled out my phone to snap a photo for Dan but before I could press send, his name appeared on my screen.

  ‘I was just about to text you!’ I said, accepting his call with glee. ‘A man in a cowboy hat just offered me drugs.’

  ‘And that made you think of me?’ Dan replied. ‘Did you take them?’

  ‘No. Do you think I should have?’

  ‘If you’re going to take drugs for the first time in your entire life, I don’t think it should be some random pill you got from a man in a cowboy hat at a music festival.’

  ‘Where did you first take drugs?’ I asked.

  ‘At a music festival,’ he replied. ‘But what would your mother say?’

  ‘Nothing because she’d already be in a drum circle, chugging ayahuasca.’ I rested my hand on the top of my straw hat and smiled. ‘What are you doing up so early?’

  ‘Early shoot. Got to get my arse over to Parsons Green for half eight and I knew if I didn’t call you now, I wouldn’t get hold of you all day. Are you having fun?’

  I heard cupboard doors opening and closing, the tap running while he spoke and my smile broadened at the thought of him trotting around the kitchen in his t-shirt and boxers, still bleary eyed before his first cup of tea.

  ‘I am,’ I confirmed. ‘The house is gorgeous. You would love the pool and I think there’s more tequila in my body than actual blood. I feel like shit all the time, it’s brilliant.’

  ‘Sounds like a successful hen do,’ he replied. ‘Maddie having a good time?’

  ‘We haven’t lost her or damaged her in any way if that’s what you’re worried about.’ Even though I knew she was perfectly capable of holding her own, I couldn’t help but think it was sweet, how protective he was of his sister. ‘Emelie’s been in a bit of a dickhead mood but there haven’t been any fist fights yet.’

  ‘What kind of dickhead mood?’

  I breathed in deeply, then exhaled heavily through my nose. ‘Just being contrary, you know? Snide comments. I think there’s something going on with her and Paul, but she won’t talk to me about it. All I’ve got out of her so far is that he’s working a lot and they never see each other. If he’s cheating on her, I’m going to skin him alive.’

  ‘Have you asked him?’

  A scandalous idea.

  ‘No?’

  ‘If she won’t talk to you, maybe you should,’ Dan said. ‘He is your brother, you are entitled to know.’

  But I wasn’t so sure.

  ‘Feels a bit like going behind her back,’ I replied with a frown. ‘I can’t just call him out of the blue and ask whether or not he’s cheating on my friend, can I?’

  ‘No, but you could call him to ask about something else then ask whether or not he’s cheating on your friend. Rach, I know you. You’re not going to be able to relax until you know what’s going on and she’s not going to tell you while you’re on your hen do, is she?’

  I wasn’t just marrying him for his looks, although that was a big part of it.

  ‘Call him,’ Dan repeated. ‘You don’t have to tell her you’ve spoken to him but maybe if you have a better idea of what’s going on, you’ll be able to handle her a bit better. Don’t let this ruin your week away.’

  ‘You could be right,’ I said, darting out the way as a whole gaggle of women ran past, several of them riding on the shoulders of their friends and screaming as they went. ‘Also, um, I’ve been thinking about the wedding.’

  ‘You’re not going to dump me over the phone while you’re on your hen, are you?’ he began to laugh but it choked out quickly. ‘Rach, you’re not, are you?’

  ‘No, you’re not getting out of it that easily,’ I said with a grin that was just for me. It was nice to know I could still make him shit himself if necessary. ‘Em’s been a bit of a dick but she also brought up a couple of good points. I’m not one hundred per cent certain I’m into Varden Hall as a venue.’

  ‘You’re not?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You truly mean that?’

  ‘I truly do.’

  ‘Oh, thank god.’ The sigh of relief that came down the line almost blew my brain out of my ear. ‘It’s not my cup of tea at all but I thought you really wanted it.’

  A rush of emotion that felt awfully close to freedom almost knocked me off my feet. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ I asked.

  There was a pause as I heard the kettle boiling. ‘Because if it made you happy it made me happy. But yeah, full disclosure, I wasn’t completely in love with it. It’s so grand and formal and …’

  ‘Basic?’

  He laughed and I took that as a yes. ‘Have you talked to Maddie about it?’

  ‘Sort of,’ I nodded. ‘But we should talk about this properly before I ask her to cancel, work out what we really want to do.’

  ‘All I need is you and me and none of the rest of it matters,’ he said in a low, rough voice that made me squirm in the most delightful way. ‘Whether it’s Westminster Abbey or the Little White Chapel in Las Vegas, I don’t care as long as it’s what you want. We should cancel, let someone else have it.’

  ‘I love you,’ I said, meaning every word. ‘And I’d better go and find the others. Have a good shoot.’

  ‘Love you too,’ he replied. ‘Text me if you speak to Paul. And tell Maddie to behave.’

  ‘Dan, she’s thirty-two,’ I reminded him. ‘What do you think she’s going to get up to?’

  ‘With you three?’ he laughed. ‘Anything is possible.’

  I ended the call and stared at the screen for a long moment. Em might be mad if I called Paul but the right thing wasn’t always the popular thing, was it? Safe in the knowledge Maddie had three different portable phone chargers in her handbag, I gritted my teeth and dialled my brother’s number.

  ‘What the fuck do you want?’

  At least it was nice of him to pick up on the first ring.

  ‘Hello, Paul, how are you? I’m well, thank you for asking,’ I said, already regretting my decision.

  ‘It’s seven o’clock in the morning,’ he replied, his voice thick with sleep. ‘What’s wrong? Is it Mum?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong …’ Gnawing on my thumbnail, I struggled to come up with a reason for my call. I definitely could have thought this through better before I picked up the phone. ‘I was just talking to Emelie and Maddie about some wedding stuff and I wanted to check whether or not you’re planning to come down on Friday night or Saturday morning?’

  Silence.

  ‘Uh, if you’re coming Friday night, I’ll need to book you a room,’ I added. ‘But you can come Saturday morning, it doesn’t matter which.’

  ‘What did Emelie say?’ he asked.

  ‘She said to ask you.’

  More silence.

  ‘Is everything alright with you two?’ I asked in what I hoped was a breezy voice.

  ‘You’d better ask her,’ he replied coolly. My brother and I weren’t Ross-and-Monica close, but I knew him well enough to know something was definitely wrong. Paul had never been afraid to call a spade a dickhead and he didn’t do defensive or evasive. Until now.

  ‘That’s all it was, I’ll let you go,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m sure you need to be getting ready for work.’

  ‘I’m off on Fridays, aren’t I?’ Paul said through an accusative yawn.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ I fudged, wincing as he poked holes in Emelie’s version of what was going on. ‘Fridays and …’

  ‘Mondays and Tuesday mornings.’

  ‘But you’re open Sundays?’

  ‘Twelve to six. I’m there every other week.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Why the sudden interest in my work schedule?’ he asked. ‘Is this because I told Mum I couldn’t help her build her ceremonial tipi? Because that has nothing to do with work and everything to do with the fact it’s a fucking insane idea. Obviously, I couldn’t tell her that.’

  ‘Obviously,’ I agreed. ‘Your secret is safe with me.’

  I said goodbye and ended the call, hoping our conversation would stay a secret as well.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  If ever solid evidence was needed that this was my first festival, the fact I’d assumed I’d be able to find my friends ‘somewhere near the bar’ would surely stand up in court. More than an hour had passed since I left Emelie, Maddie and Matthew and I couldn’t find them anywhere. My texts weren’t going through and the VIP area appeared to be some sort of mobile phone dead spot where calls went to die. That or they’d all been abducted by aliens or the Kardashians or some other higher lifeform that did not allow iPhones in their presence.

  There were at least four different bands playing on four different stages and from my sad spot in between three different bars, their music merged into one discordant yowl. Keyboards battled guitars battled soft female vocals and a scream that would have sent me running for help if it hadn’t been coming from a stage. It was safe to say my festival fantasies had been somewhat different to the reality so far. I’d been thinking cool, washed-out photos of the four of us throwing up peace signs and bopping along to cute indie boys in between drinking overpriced beers and eating a twenty-dollar hot dog that would probably give me the runs, but unless I found my friends very soon, it seemed as though the rest of my day was going to be spent being jostled by an Urban Outfitters catalogue come to life and dangerous levels of dehydration. I mean, who decided to have a festival in the middle of the desert? It was at least forty degrees out and the entire festival ground was nothing but a dry, flat, sun-soaked field. People were insane. Giving up on my plan to find the others, I strode off towards a small patch of what looked like covered space in the VIP area, delirious enough to think I was starring in my own movie, IndioFest: The Search For Shade.

  ‘Rach?’

  Of course. The moment I stopped looking for them, they found me.

  ‘Christ on a bike, I am so happy to see you,’ I said, pushing my sunglasses off my head and blinking at Emelie, Maddie and Matthew, rubbing my eyes to make sure they weren’t a mirage. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere, I thought I’d never find you.’

  But the three of them didn’t look nearly as happy to see me.

  ‘Is everything alright?’ I asked. My bad vibes alarm was going off and not only because I could see someone walking away from me wearing assless chaps.

  ‘I don’t feel very well,’ Matthew said, suddenly folding himself into a small package on the floor and crossing his legs. ‘Has anyone got any water?’

  ‘I told you not to take that pill,’ Emelie said as Maddie passed him a bottle. ‘You never take anything anyone gives you at a festival.’

 

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