‘Yes,’ I said with a sigh. I’d felt like I was just getting my head around polynomials and now I’d have to start the whole damn chapter again.
‘Don’t you say a fucking word to Marcus, okay?’ Cami glared with narrowed, angry eyes. ‘What he doesn’t know won’t bother him.’
I shrugged. Not my problem. I just needed to remember that.
Then Cami put out a hand and touched the leather case of the guitar lying at the end of the tent.
I slapped it away.
‘Leave that.’
‘I thought if you weren’t going to play it maybe I could borrow?’
‘Get lost. You don’t even play guitar.’
‘Well, you’re not playing it, why do you need it here?’ He put out his hand again and I slapped it away, harder.
‘You never even get it out of its case, do you? Can’t bear the heartbreak or something? It’s still all tied up in the string. Why didn’t you just sell it? Or give it to Marcus? You know he wanted it too.’
‘Clear off, Cami.’ I tried to keep my voice calm. He was just trying to wind me up, although I didn’t know why.
‘Nice to see you, too.’
He tapped his grimy fingers on his knee for a few minutes, and then seemed to think he’d been aggravating enough. He pushed aside the tent-flap and began to back out. He was smirking, as though he’d got what he wanted. I didn’t have a clue what that was, unless it was just that, to be aggravating.
Well, it wasn’t going to work. I wasn’t going to let Cami get to me. I took a deep breath and started again at the beginning of the chapter. Advanced algebra. Just what I needed to distract me.
Of its own volition, one of my hands reached out and touched the leather guitar case very, very gently. It felt so soft, so familiar. Maybe I would untie the knotted blue string, undo the zip, just have a look …
I flung the maths book across the tent and pushed my way out. Better to go walking. Better to do anything than sit here and think.
I couldn’t help glancing across and seeing Cami head straight for Dex Barker’s van. What an idiot.
Chapter Eleven
GEORGE
I got a very nasty surprise the following morning. I’d gone up the path behind the bothy to turn on my phone and check my text messages. There was one as usual from Mum, telling me the babies were missing me and hoping I was working hard. That was all fine.
But there was also one from Dad.
I stared at the little picture of a closed envelope. Dad rarely contacted me and never when he was away on holiday. I opened it with great reluctance. It said Had a strange message from your mother. I’ve been trying to phone you. Where the hell are you? Call IMMEDIATELY. Dad.
Oh, shit. It looked like Dad knew I wasn’t away with Mum. Did Mum also know I wasn’t with Dad? No, she couldn’t do. There would have been fifty messages from her if she did …
I stood there for ages debating what to do. I couldn’t actually phone Dad because there was no way I had enough credit on my phone for a call to Ireland. If he was that desperate to talk to me (and I saw I had four missed calls from him) he’d have to phone me himself. I sent him a short text to say my phone had reception and now would be a good time to call. And then I waited.
It was strange being off in the woods on my own. Since that scary walk up the hill the first night, I’d followed Finn’s advice and found you could get mobile reception much more easily on this side of the valley. I’d nipped up here once a day to text Sophie and Manda and keep Mum happy, but I’d never actually stayed very long. I was on a path beside a fast-flowing burn. The trees around here were (I think) silver birch and were just coming into leaf, a bright pale green. It was pretty but very quiet, except for the sound of the water.
Come on, Dad, I thought. I can’t hang around forever. I’m supposed to be helping out here, you know. But of course he didn’t know, because he hadn’t a clue where I was. I wondered how long to wait. It would be just like Dad to forget to check his phone for hours, even if he was supposedly worried about me. Although I denied it when my friends teased me about Dad’s absent-minded-professor tendencies, I had to admit he could be a bit forgetful. It might be a stereotype (he was a university lecturer), but he was seriously vague. Usually this worked in my favour.
I should have been planning what to tell him, but my mind seemed to have frozen. Whatever I said, I was going to be in deep trouble.
I’d just decided this for certain when the phone rang. I took a deep breath and answered.
‘Hi? Dad? Yes, it’s me … Hang on a minute, I can’t hear you very well.’ I climbed up the banking away from the water and his voice began to come through all too clearly.
‘Where the hell are you, Georgina? I got the shock of my life when I picked up my voicemail and found one from your mother. She seemed to be under the impression that you are staying with me, whereas I am sure you told me you were spending the holidays with her. Georgina? Are you still there?’
‘Yes, I’m here.’ I sighed. I said tentatively, ‘I didn’t want to go away with Mum and Steve. I, er, wanted some peace to revise. So I thought I’d just stay at your house. At first I thought you would be there and then when you said you and Janice were going to Ireland I just … sort of didn’t mention that bit to Mum.’
‘So you’re alone in our house? Really Georgina …’ He sounded perplexed and I could almost hear him trying to work out how to deal with me. He’d always left Mum to handle any problems like this. ‘Georgie, you’re far too young to stay there on your own, I really don’t like it. And why on earth aren’t you answering the phone?’
‘Well, actually … I didn’t hear it ring. I’ve been, er, quite busy. Revising and that, you know.’ What else could I say? I certainly couldn’t let on I wasn’t actually at the house!
‘Georgina. I’m not at all happy about this. Listen, I think Janice and I will have to come home. I’ll see if there’s a ferry this evening …’
‘There’s no need for that,’ I said, horrified. ‘I’m fine. It’s fine. Absolutely fine.’
‘Actually, my girl, it’s not!’
Dad sounded really annoyed. This thing must be really getting to him. Or maybe he was thinking about what Mum would say to him if she found out.
He said grimly, ‘Janice and I will look into ferries and I’ll phone you back to confirm when we’ll be home. No more arguing, George. You cannot stay there alone and that’s final!’
He ended the call and I stared at my phone in horror.
Just like that, it was all over. My wonderful show of independence, my attending the Forest Festival as staff, ended before it had hardly begun.
I was so appalled I just sat there for ten minutes or more. Maybe I was hoping that inspiration would come to me. I couldn’t leave now. I had to think of something.
FINN
I’d decided. I needed to talk to Marcus about Cami. He wouldn’t be pleased, but too bad. I’d been watching Cami and Dex for the last few days and there was definitely something going on. Cami seemed to be doing the fetching and carrying, and Dex giving the orders. It was never a good thing if Dex Barker was giving the orders.
I found Marcus in the bothy, where he seemed to spend most of his time. He was alone, but on the phone. ‘... Yes, I hear you ... Yes, I appreciate that, you know I was grateful, but surely there is someone else ... Listen, I’ve got to go. Someone’s come in.’
He looked relieved to end the conversation, glaring at the receiver before banging it down.
‘Yes? What do you want?’ Not so relieved that he could actually be pleasant.
‘I’m worried about Cami.’
‘Join the club. Even his fucking mother is worried about him, when she remembers he exists.’
‘I’m fairly sure he’s involved in something with Dex Barker. One of these days Dex is going to get taken down, and you don’t want Cami going too.’ Dex couldn’t be taken too soon for my liking, but Cami was my cousin.
‘Cami’s oka
y. I’ve told him to keep straight. He says he’s learnt from my ... problems.’
Marcus had had one spell inside, but Mum had said that was for fencing stolen goods, not for drugs.
‘I’m not sure Cami’s the kind who does learn from other people’s problems.’
‘Dex knows my rules. He’s not to supply any kids, and he’s certainly not to let them deal. It’ll be fine.’
I shook my head. How stupid can you get? ‘Marcus, you’ve no idea what Cami is doing most of the time. He’s away in the campsite, you’re over here in the office or in your comfy little van. He’s out of control.’
‘He’s only sixteen. Everyone goes off the rails a bit at sixteen.’ The phone rang again and this time he looked pleased that it had interrupted his conversation with me. ‘Listen, I haven’t got time for this now. This place is like a madhouse and no one’s here to help when you need them. Clear off, okay?’
I did. I’d tried. What more could I do? I was actually quite pleased to see a police car coming down the track as I left the bothy. Marcus wouldn’t like that, but it might give Cami a fright.
Chapter Twelve
GEORGE
I spotted Becky as soon as I got back to the festival ground. I’d have to tell her about Dad, see if she could help me get home. Not that she’d been much help about anything so far, but who else could I ask? I hurried off in her direction, then I noticed something that pulled me up short.
A police car. Oh no. What were they doing here? And why now? Had someone else been hurt? Or did they know about the drugs? Or – no! – were they looking for underage kids who didn’t have permission to be here ... No, I was being stupid. There was no way they could be interested in me.
Still, best not to attract their attention. I skirted round the group they were talking to, and joined Becky who was sitting on the grass banking with three or four people dressed in the usual assortment of glam and thrift shop. All of them were smoking.
‘Oh hi there,’ she said in a dreamy way that made my heart sink. I was starting to recognise the sweetish smell of dope, and it was so strong around them I was surprised I wasn’t getting stoned myself.
‘I’ve just spoken to Dad,’ I said.
‘Mmm?’
‘Yeah.’ Her friends were looking at me, wide-eyed, as though I was some weird species. I indicated we should go further up the slope. I really didn’t want to talk about something as embarrassing as this in public.
‘Mmm?’ Becky looked at me in that unfocused way, pushing the heavy dark locks over her shoulder. ‘You want to move? Okay. But let’s go this way. I don’t want to be anywhere near those people.’ She shuddered as she indicated the police with her short cigarette.
‘Fine.’ I encouraged her up towards the tree line where we could talk privately.
It was lovely here. The trees weren’t too close together and the grass was short and fairly dry. There were the remnants of an old stone wall that must once have separated the field from the trees. We could see over the whole of the grounds to the river which ran fast and brown on the far side. The festival site was starting to look busy, with all the tents going up and more and more people arriving.
Oh God, it was all so brilliant. And I was going to have to leave.
‘I’ve got to go home. Dad’s found out that I’m home alone and he and your mum are hot-footing it back.’
‘Huh?’ Becky sat down on a damp log and I perched beside her.
I explained again.
‘But you’re not home alone.’
I sighed. ‘No, we know I’m not. But if I tell him I’m here he’ll just freak out even more. I’ve got to get back there, and before they arrive.’
She seemed to have come to a bit by now and looked horrified.
‘You need to get back there? I could ask Dex, but he won’t be pleased, he’s got things on ...’ She frowned and lapsed into silence.
‘I suppose I could get a bus. Or two. Or three.’ I had no idea how easy it would be to get to Dad’s house on public transport.
‘No, don’t do that,’ she said. She chewed her lip. ‘I wonder ...’
‘What?’ I could really do without her going all dreamy when we had a crisis on our hands.
‘You didn’t mention anything to him about me?’
‘No. I didn’t think you’d want me to. And I couldn’t tell him I was here.’
‘No, of course not. But how about we tell him I’m there, at the house, with you? How about we say I turned up and I’m looking after you. So they can stay away on their holiday? Do you think they’d go for that?’
‘Becky! You’re amazing!’ I hopped up off the damp log in my excitement. ‘Come on, let’s go and phone them right now before they’ve made any plans to head back.’
I started to lead the way to the place where we could get phone reception.
‘I hope they don’t ask about Dex,’ she said moodily. ‘They won’t want Dex in the house.’
‘Well, that’s all right. Because he won’t be in the house, will he?’
That made her giggle. ‘No, he won’t.’ She ground the last of the short cigarette under her heel. ‘Come on then, let’s do it.’
Becky was brilliant. I’d never heard anyone lie so smoothly. She didn’t even sound stoned, just impatient as though she was rather busy and needed to keep the call short. When they asked her why I hadn’t mentioned her before, she said she’d told me not to, but that she realised now they’d rather I was with her than alone. And when they asked why we were both using our mobiles and not the house phone she said, ‘George said it wasn’t working properly. No dial tone or something.’ I would never have come up with something like that on the spur of the moment. ‘Yeah, yeah, we’ll do that. Yeah. George, they want another word with you, here you go.’
I had to put up with Dad saying, ‘You haven’t heard the last of this,’ and ‘We’re going to have a long chat when I get home,’ but I was quite happy to agree to anything. It didn’t matter what happened after the festival, as long as I got to stay here now.
I ended the call and gave Becky a hug. ‘You’re a star, thanks a million.’
After a moment’s hesitation she hugged me back. ‘No problem. Right, shall we get back?’
I nodded, but some of my delight was dulled by the way her body had felt when I hugged her. Tiny, almost skeletal. She’d winced at my touch.
The police car had gone when we returned to the festival site. Dex had been looking for Becky while we were away and screamed at her to get the fuck over to the van. I made a hasty retreat.
Cami and some others were hanging around near the almost-finished main stage and I slowed down as I approached them, watching to see if Cami was in a friendly mood. Apparently, he was.
‘It’s looking better, isn’t it?’ he said, gesturing around at the stage, then at the metal fencing. It was funny how it made the place look organised, kind of contained. It was even more fascinating, because I’d thought it was all going to be snatched away from me.
‘Why were the police here?’ I said. My relief had made me forget about the not-asking-questions thing. His dark face became shuttered and the group of youngish, dreadlocked men shrugged and looked uneasy.
‘Just nosing about. The usual.’
‘Is it to do with the man who was hurt?’
‘Dunno, do I? Why don’t you ask Finn, maybe they’re friends of his.’ Cami gave his sneering smile.
‘But is the man that was injured okay?’
‘Look, I dunno. Marcus says he’s not coming back here, so it’s not our problem, is it?’
‘But if he was seriously hurt …?’
‘Not as serious as he should’ve been,’ muttered one of the other men, and someone sniggered.
Cami glared at them. ‘Marcus says he’s out of hospital, so he must be all right, okay? You satisfied?’
Not so friendly after all. I scowled back and headed on towards the camping area. I didn’t need to hang around with them. And there wasn’
t much happening on the work front. The presence of the police seemed to have put a dampener on everything. Dex had disappeared into his van, Marcus and his cronies into the office.
Or maybe it was just my imagination that people were tense. As the sun began to sink, lighting the tops of the eastern hills with orange and pink, a group gathered. Some people got out guitars and they set up an impromptu arena at the edge of the campsite. Other people brought disposable barbecues, and beers were handed round, and all of a sudden there was a full-blown party going on.
I hung around on the edges of it. You didn’t need to be asked to join in, apparently. I liked the music they were playing. I’d heard people strumming away occasionally on previous evenings, but this was better. Someone played really good covers of Franz Ferdinand and someone else of Green Day, until they got shouted down for being too American.
Cami seemed to have forgiven me for earlier. He came over and stuck a can of beer in my hand, which was a surprise. He was normally the one bumming things off other people. I preferred cider to beer but I didn’t say so.
‘Seen Finn?’ he asked. He was standing a bit close, swaying like he’d already had a few beers – or something else – himself. ‘Marcus wants him. Never bloody around when he should be. You’d think he’d be grateful to Marcus for bringing us both along, but oh no, not bloody Finn MacPherson. Always sidling off so he gets out of work.’
Aha. Here was a chance to find out some answers.
‘Marcus brought you and Finn?’ I asked, but tried not to sound too interested.
‘Finn not told you he’s our cousin? Doesn’t like to admit it, thinks he’s too fucking good for us. But who else would have him when he’s not at his posh bloody boarding school? I don’t see anyone else rushing to offer more than once a year.’ Cami glowered at his beer.
‘He’s your cousin?’ I just stared at him. It seemed totally unlikely.
‘Yeah, I said, didn’t I? His mum was our mum’s sister. God knows why we stuck by him after what he did, but Marcus says we have to.’
Music and Lies (George and Finn Book 1) Page 6
