It was another sunny day. It hadn’t rained for three days in a row now – miracle! – and some of the mud was drying up. There was a nice spring-like smell to the place, of grass and earth, that for once was stronger than the whiff of portaloos and dope.
This time there were definite sounds of movement from inside Finn’s tent.
‘Finn?’ No response. ‘Finn?’
I realised the zip was open and bent down to peer in, puzzled that he wasn’t answering. I nearly banged heads with Marcus on his way out.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said, unfriendly and apparently not at all put out at being found in someone else’s tent. I backed up. He certainly wasn’t going to retreat.
‘I was looking for Finn.’
‘Seemed to be heading for the village, last time I saw him.’ He zipped the tent closed. He had some blue twine in his hand which he pushed into a pocket as he strode off without another word. I supposed he could have a perfectly good reason to be there.
I watched as Marcus vaulted the low fencing that surrounded the campsite and went through the barriers onto the festival ground. He didn’t look back. I could have asked him about Cami, or about Becky, but he hadn’t seemed like he wanted to stop and chat.
So what should I do now?
Find Finn. Or, rather, I would head off to the village, stock up on supplies. It was exactly what I needed to do. And if I happened to bump into Finn on the way, well, so much the better.
I checked Becky was okay, then picked up my empty backpack and headed off.
I quite enjoyed walking through the forest. There was a feel of new growth about the place. I noticed pale, shiny brown buds beginning to unfurl on thin branches. There were even birds singing although I didn’t know what they were called. Finn would know. He seemed interested in that kind of thing.
Despite Dex, despite Becky’s unexpected appearance in my tent, I began to feel pretty cheerful. Here was I, George Wray, doing something half my school would have killed for. I was at the Forest Festival. Independent, no adults around. And I might just happen to see Finn and be able to walk back with him …
It was when I caught myself thinking this that I started to wonder. Did I actually fancy Finn MacPherson? I kind of suspected I did. At first I’d thought him a bit dull, then I’d been irritated by his superior attitude, but now I supposed I … liked him. Of course, I was only looking for him to ask him about Cami, who I was naturally very concerned about, but …
Not that he’d like me back, of course. I didn’t know why I was even thinking that kind of stuff, he seemed so much older, so different.
Unfortunately I was thinking it as I came out of the trees and nearly walked straight into Finn himself, moving as quiet and catlike as ever.
‘Oh-oh! You gave me a surprise.’ I hoped I wasn’t going to blush. Thank God for all that thick make-up still needed to cover my spectacular bruises.
‘Hi you. What are you doing here?’ Finn had removed his beanie and jacket in honour of the warmer weather and wore a dark tee-shirt and combat trousers. He’d been holding a slim blue notebook I’d seen him with a few times but he pushed that into one of his many pockets. Unusually, among the festival crowd, he didn’t look grubby. Rather, he looked cool and business-like.
‘I was, er, going to the shop. Need some supplies, you know. I should have gone sooner. Actually, it’s good I bumped in to you, I’ve been wanting to see you, to ask how Cami is.’ I felt oddly breathless and like I was gabbling, so I made myself stop. No need for him to think I was more of a fool than he already did.
He frowned, his slim face thoughtful. The short hair seemed to have been bleached by the sun, the slim face was tanned. He was gorgeous.
‘I’ll walk to the village with you if you want,’ he said. He swung his backpack higher on his shoulders and turned to head back along the track.
Yes!
‘So how is Cami?’ I asked when we’d walked for at least a minute in silence. It made me wonder why he’d come with me, if he wasn’t going to talk.
‘Not so good.’ He frowned, his mouth a thin line. ‘Very bruised. Might have a couple of broken ribs. He’s lost two teeth. And boy does he feel sorry for himself.’
‘Well, it’s not surprising, is it?’ His lack of sympathy was a bit irritating. ‘Shouldn’t he go and see a doctor or something?’
‘Marcus says no, and he’s probably right, for once. Cami’ll need to get his teeth fixed up at some point but apart from that he just needs paracetamol, and time.’
I touched my own lip, which was hardly swollen at all now. I’d got off lightly. ‘Why was Dex beating him up?’
‘How should I know?’
I bet he had his suspicions, at least. ‘Didn’t you ask him?’
‘You think he’d tell me? He wouldn’t even tell Marcus. God, Marcus was so bloody mad I thought he was going to punch Cami himself.’
‘Do you think it’s something to do with drugs?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you think that was what was in the parcel we saw Dex with?’
That, at least, made Finn turn to look at me. ‘I said I don’t know. And I told you to forget about that, okay? If you’re going to stay around here then don’t mention it to anyone.’
‘Okay, okay.’ I was quite glad when we reached the shop. I had been right the first time. Finn was irritating and bossy.
We hardly spoke the whole way back to the site. I was annoyed with Finn for being so secretive, and he seemed gloomy about something, lost in thought. I wondered whether I should mention finding Marcus in his tent, but decided he’d just tell me not to be so nosy, as usual.
We could see the marquees and stuff on the far side of the river when he said, ‘So, did Beck come to you last night?’
‘Yeah, actually, she did. How did you know?’
‘Marcus said.’
‘Yes, she said Marcus knows where she is. She won’t tell me what happened, but she seems to have moved into my tent.’
‘That’s good.’ Finn grinned, his face lighting up suddenly in that amazing way. ‘Really good. I thought she’d never have the guts to leave him. Now if she can just stay clear until the end of the festival. In fact, it would be an even better thing if she left sooner. Then maybe …’
‘Maybe what?’ I remembered Cami saying Finn had a thing about my step-sister. Was that what all his apparent interest in me was about? Now I felt like a total fool.
‘Maybe she’ll sort herself out,’ he said briefly.
Seeing as Finn was so interested in Becky, I could at least ask his advice on something else. ‘She’s been sleeping for most of the day. Do you think I should leave her to do that? Or what?’
‘Let her sleep if she wants to. Later on, see if you can get her to eat.’
‘She’s brought a litre bottle of whisky with her. Should I let her drink that?’ What I meant was, would alcohol and drugs be a bad mix? If she really was on drugs, which I didn’t know for sure. I’d seen her smoking dope, but that wasn’t too bad, was it? I hoped that was all she’d been using.
‘If she wants to drink it, you won’t be able to stop her. But try and get her to eat. That was a good idea of yours, to get some more food in. And there are a few gigs starting tomorrow. If you can get her to take an interest in that, she might be a bit … better.’
I was pleased to have his approval, although it also made me feel tense. Was I now responsible for Becky’s welfare? That really wasn’t what I was hoping for.
Just then Finn whistled under his breath. We had turned on to the little wooden bridge and had a clear view across the festival site. ‘Jesus! What the hell’s happened now?’
There were police cars coming down the track on the opposite side of the valley, making their way towards the festival site. And not just one or two, like the time with the ambulance. I counted. Four, five … seven. They just kept on coming.
‘Oh shit,’ said Finn.
‘Drugs raid?’ I asked, looking at the peopl
e scattering to their tents.
‘We’d better go and warn Becky.’
Woah! So he did think Becky had drugs. Was she hiding them in my tent? Surely not? I ran across the grassy field after him, struggling once again to keep up.
Chapter Seventeen
GEORGE
It turned out the police weren’t looking for drugs.
Of course, if they found some they wouldn’t turn a blind eye. But that wasn’t what had brought them here. Oh no. They were looking for something far more important.
There had been a theft from a local stately home. Of a painting. And not just any painting. A Picasso worth over three million pounds! And for some reason I couldn’t quite fathom, the police seemed to think they were going to find this painting in one of our tents. Or vans. There seemed to be hundreds of police officers spreading out like ants across the place.
Marcus was furious, asking what right they had to intrude, blah blah, but they didn’t take a bit of notice. They just asked for a list of everyone working on site (which Marcus provided – although I bet he made half of them up), and started working their way through it. They didn’t actually seal the place down and ban anyone from leaving, but it felt as though they had. It felt weird. Everyone was asking everyone else what on earth we had to do with it, and if they’d seen anything, and what questions the police had asked them.
Becky came out of the tent for a bit, but held on to my arm. ‘You will stay with me?’ she kept saying, in a little-girl voice that made me uncomfortable. Where was the sassy, quick-thinking Becky who lied to her mum just a few days ago? But she had done that for me, so I hung around for her.
I’d thought Finn would stay with us, if he was so into Becky, but he disappeared pretty quick. Becky had giggled when he asked her if she had anything in her pack she shouldn’t have. ‘Do you want to take a look?’ she said, actually batting her eyelids at him.
He had said bluntly, ‘No. I’m serious Beck. If there’s anything in there you don’t want to be found with, get rid of it now.’
‘There’s nothing,’ she had said, pouting. As he hurried off she added under her breath to me, ‘I left it all in Dex’s van. Let’s hope they find it there. Bastard.’
‘Can they just search a place, without a warrant?’ I didn’t know about these things.
‘They can if they’ve got reasonable grounds to suspect something is wrong.’ She emphasised the words as though they were all too familiar. As the search went on she became more and more edgy. ‘I hate the pigs. Why do they have to stay so long?’
‘I suppose it’s a major theft. The guy over there was saying it’s been on the radio and everything. The getaway car was apparently heading into the forest. And the thing was worth three million pounds.’
‘Do I look like I’d know what to do with a painting worth three million pounds?’ Looking at Becky in her black leggings and turquoise tutu the answer had to be no. And no one else looked like they’d have any idea either. Half of them were too stoned to notice if ten valuable paintings had been carried through the campsite.
By the time the last police car pulled away up the steep track, it was getting dark. I heated up some tinned soup for Becky and me. I would have done some for Finn, too, but he still hadn’t reappeared. Then she took a pill – ‘It’s only a sleeping pill, don’t worry,’ − and went back to sleep. I got out my chemistry, but I couldn’t concentrate, so I ended up putting out the lamp and lying there in the dark, trying to make sense of it all.
I sat up so suddenly I brushed my head on the canvas. I had seen something unusual! Finn and I had both seen Dex take delivery of something very suspicious. Could that have been the stolen painting? But it had seemed quite bulky, whereas people were saying a picture wouldn’t take up any space at all … Oh, yes, and it was a couple of days ago that we’d seen him, while the theft had only been this morning. So whatever Dex was hiding, it wasn’t the painting.
I lay back down. It probably was drugs that Dex had been carrying, like I’d originally thought. I wondered what kind of drugs: cannabis, which Cami said was ‘no worse than alcohol’, or ecstasy or something more serious. Heroin or cocaine. They were the really bad ones, weren’t they?
And I wondered where he had hidden them. Somewhere in the forest? The police certainly hadn’t found them. The most I’d heard about were a few bits of dope and one guy caught with ecstasy. I was fairly sure Dex was involved in something on a much bigger scale than that.
FINN
‘I don’t know why you bother. Think I can’t manage? Or just want to poke your nose in where it’s not wanted?’
I dumped the tinned spaghetti into a saucepan and put it on the cooker. Cami needed to eat something. I hadn’t expected any thanks, which was good, as I wasn’t getting any.
‘Do you want to do it yourself?’ I said. He was lying back on half a dozen pillows, flinching every time he moved. Even the luxury of Marcus’s van couldn’t make him comfortable.
‘Why can’t Marcus do it?’
Good question, I thought. Because he won’t. Because since you moved in here he’s hardly been around.
‘Maybe he’s busy,’ I said. ‘Or maybe he’s just too bloody fed up of you getting into trouble and him having to bail you out.’
Cami tossed the lank dark hair back and glared. ‘He didn’t bail me out.’
‘Pity he didn’t send Dex packing. That would have been the best thing he’s done in a long while.’
‘Well, maybe. Maybe not.’ Cami looked secretive now, pleased almost.
‘What’re you going to do when the police catch up with you?’
‘Why should they? They were looking for some stupid painting. I don’t know anything about that.’
‘They’ll be back.’
‘Why? Are you going to invite them?’
‘They don’t need an invite from me.’
I poured the spaghetti into a bowl and brought it over to him, putting it down on one of the little sliding tables.
‘See if you can eat that.’ For some reason, I had to try and help. I don’t know why, but I had to.
‘’S too hot.’
‘Leave it for a minute then.’
I sat down on one of the other benches. ‘Look, Cami, why are you involved? Why are you helping Dex Barker?’
‘Who says I am?’
‘I do. I saw you take stuff to the pub in the village. Then collect another package from a man at the entrance gate.’
‘Huh?’ Cami glared, trying not to look put out. ‘Well, so what? It was only dope. Everyone likes a bit of dope. It’s not like it’s dangerous or anything.’
‘It’s illegal.’
‘Carrying it’s not. They don’t prosecute you, these days, for a bit of possession.’
‘But they do for dealing. And how do you know it’s just cannabis? Do you see what’s inside the parcels? Or are you just another stupid gofer ready to take the fall when it all goes wrong?’
Cami had picked up his spoon, but now he put it down again. ‘Don’t call me stupid, okay? I know what I’m doing. Don’t you interfere. I need the money, don’t I? I haven’t got a Trust Fund, and Marcus doesn’t give a shit.’
I opened my mouth and then shut it again. I didn’t have a Trust Fund, either, not the way Cami seemed to think I did. But I had had someone who gave a shit about me. Okay, I didn’t any more. But when had Cami? His mum was flaky, and Marcus was moody and unpredictable, even more so the last few days.
Maybe that’s why Cami was such a pain. Mum had once asked me to be nicer to him. She said he had real talent, if only someone would encourage him.
Which meant I couldn’t give up, even when whatever I did only seemed to piss him off.
‘Be a good time, when you’re laid up, to work on your portfolio,’ I suggested, without any real hope.
‘Aye. Well.’ Cami looked thoughtful, almost tempted. ‘Could you bring it over for me from my tent? Maybe I’ll have a look at it. And don’t forget the oil paints, they
’re in that little red kitbag.’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘ Apparently it got the police all excited, when they saw my art folder in there. Marcus said they nearly wet themselves, thinking they’d found the ideal place to hide a Picasso. Pricks.’
I said nothing, but I couldn’t stop myself flicking through the folder when I went over to collect it, just to see. Some weird, but as far as I could tell, impressive Dali-style pictures, a handful of charcoal sketches. Nothing to get the police interested. Thank goodness.
Chapter Eighteen
GEORGE
‘Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m going to see The Tea Leaves! Their music is just, like, so real, you know?’
I looked around to see who was making this vapid statement. I mean, I was still excited about seeing Murdo Mensah, but I wasn’t going on about it like that. And he wasn’t some has-been Indie band.
I thought I recognised that voice and I was right. It was Beatrice Graham. She was in my year at school but definitely not one of my friends. She must have been in the first batch of true spectators who had been allowed on site today. The real festival didn’t start till Tuesday but already there were lots of people arriving.
‘Oh, you’re here, are you?’ she said, looking me up and down.
I had long since given up trying to look smart, or cool. It had rained again in the night and great big patches of mud had appeared across the field. The rubbish bins were starting to overflow as well, which really helped the ambience. It was a battle to keep even basically clean and warm, so I’d fallen back on a boring but practical outfit of skinny jeans and a thick fleece. Beatrice was wearing a mini-skirt, see-through leggings and high-heeled black boots that were already sinking into the ground. She obviously had no idea how bad it got here. Even the eccentric people like Becky wore wellingtons or similar on their feet. Personally, I thought Doc Martens were the best. If I ever got the chance to come to something like this again I was going to make sure I had some.
Music and Lies (George and Finn Book 1) Page 9
