‘But she’s here?’ I ask.
‘Yeah.’
Scott gives Nathan a firm shake. ‘When did you see her last?’
‘I don’t know. This morning?’
‘You’d better stop answering questions with questions.’
The girl tiptoes off, carrying her Doc Martens. Scott interrogates Nathan. He asks who they came with, which is her tent, what they’ve been drinking, whether anyone has taken drugs. He co-operates.
‘She didn’t seem all that happy today. She went off by herself,’ he says.
Scott shoots Nathan a dirty look. ‘Anything to do with you hanging around with other girls?’
‘She wanted to see The Liars and Twisted Sphinx! It was nothing to do with me.’
‘Come on,’ says Scott. ‘You’re going to help us find her.’
Chapter 49
June 2016
Liv
The entrance to the VIP area is simply a gap in the hoarding manned by a single security guard. I would never have found it if it wasn’t for the tiny map on the back of the press pass in my pocket. Tumi gave it to me weeks ago when I told her I was coming to Beatland. I almost didn’t bring it as it only admits one and I didn’t plan on being separated from my friends. But things haven’t worked out as I’d planned. Nathan ignored me during breakfast, then went off somewhere with Charlie. Ella and the other girls went to the market area to spend money on outfits that’ll look ridiculous anywhere but here. I went off by myself determined to watch the bands I’d come here to see but it’s been no fun alone, standing self-consciously at the edge of the crowd, too embarrassed to dance and sing along and too scared to plunge closer to the stage. I’d been waiting months to see Twisted Sphinx, but I couldn’t face watching another band on my own, so here I am, deciding if I have the guts to go into the VIP area. Pulling the pass from my pocket, I unravel the rainbow ribbon and loop it over my head. I take a deep breath and approach the security guard.
It had seemed like a mistake to let Ella do my make-up this morning – especially when Nathan didn’t even look my way – but as the guard waves me through, I’m glad I did. I follow apassageway as it winds around four or five bends, then opens out onto an area about the size of a football pitch.
Glamorous people wearing sunglasses and insanely cool outfits lounge around on Bali beds like the ones you find by the pool at luxury holiday resorts. A long marquee stretches along the entire back fence, filled with stalls serving food and drink. A huge grill gives off delicious barbecue smells. Picnic tables painted all the colours of the rainbow are dotted around the sun-scorched grass and the whole place is draped in strings of retro lightbulbs – it’s magical in the twilight. I wander around listening in on conversations and trying to spot celebrities. I nip in the marquee for a bottle of water and when I step back outside, there’s a commotion as a noisy group of people make their way across the enclosure. Leading them is a man in a purple suit. He must be a celebrity; no normal person would dress like that at a festival. As they cross in front of me, I recognise the man despite the compulsory sunglasses.
It’s Brett Lewis.
From Paradigm.
I don’t know what comes over me. All I can think isthis man knew Will Baileyand I have to speak to him.
‘Brett!’ I call, speed-walking alongside him.
A large man steps forward, palms up as a barrier, but Brett Lewis lowers them with a hand. The entire group is looking at me – at least I think they are, it’s hard to tell with all the dark glasses.
‘Brett,’ I say breathlessly, ‘can you spare a few minutes forAmplifymagazine?’
There’s a moment of silence. Brett looks me up and down. ‘Amplifymagazine?’
I wave my press pass. ‘Yes.’
‘Okay. This way.’
The next thing I know, I’m climbing a staircase following Brett Lewis onto a balcony overlooking the festival site.
Brett invites me to sit on a red velvet sofa.
‘Wow,’ I mutter, as I take in the view.
Lights are coming on all over Beatland, twinkling in the half light as the sun disappears into the horizon in a soft pink glow. Music carries on the breeze as thousands of people mill around the fields below. A helter-skelter rises out of the crowd – how have I not seen that this whole time?
‘Awesome, isn’t it?’ Brett pops the cork on a bottle of champagne that has appeared out of nowhere and pours us both a glass. ‘So, what did you want to ask me?’