Page 50 of When We Were Young

Emily

Scott frogmarches Nathan away from the tents, back down to the main festival site.

‘You said she wanted to see Twisted Sphinx. When are they playing?’ I ask as we walk.

‘Now, on the main stage,’ says Nathan. ‘They’ll be finished soon.’

‘Where would you agree to meet?’ asks Scott.

‘Probably at the totem pole.’

Scott halts. ‘Text her now. Tell her to meet you there after Twisted Sphinx.’

Nathan pulls out his phone and does as he’s told with Scott supervising at his shoulder.

We trudge on down the hill and a moment later Nathan’s phone beeps.

‘Is that her?’ I ask him. ‘What does it say?’

‘She says she’ll be there in ten minutes.’

He leads us to the totem pole, and we wait in the space between two food stalls out of sight.

Applause and cheering mark the end of the Twisted Sphinx set and a steady stream of people file past us towards the tents.

We wait twenty minutes, but there’s no sign of Liv.

After another twenty, I’m getting worried.

Scott and I exchange looks. Nathan says he needs the toilet, so Scott drags him off to the Portaloos, but it’s not long before he’s back. Alone.

‘Where’s Nathan?’ I ask.

‘Little shit gave me the slip.’ Scott runs both hands through his hair.

I was worried before but seeing him riled ramps my anxiety up even further.

‘He was no help anyway.’ Scott pulls out his phone, dials and holds it to his ear.

‘Fucking voicemail again.’ He stabs at it and shoves it back in his pocket.

‘Okay, I’m going to look for her. You wait here in case she shows.

Stay where it’s well lit. I’ll come back and check in with you in half an hour. ’

I pace the area, examining every face I pass, my stomach churning. On my third lap, I see a figure coming up the dark path from behind the food stalls. I recognise the silhouette, but the gait is wrong – she’s limping.

‘Liv!’ I run to her.

As she steps into the light, I see she is crying. Her legs are streaked with mud. Oh my God – there’s blood down the side of her neck.

‘Liv?’ I call, my voice shrill.

She sees me. Her whole body sags and I think she’s going to run off, but she runs towards me, sobbing. ‘Mum!’

She slams into my arms, her body quivering.

‘Honey, are you hurt?’ I grab her shoulders and hold her at arm’s length. ‘You’re bleeding.’

Her fingers flutter to her right ear and come away bloody. She stares at it blankly.

‘What happened?’ I move her hand out of the way to see her earlobe is torn.

‘A man…’ she says between sobs. ‘He took my bag… it was across my chest…’

‘Slow down. Breathe.’

She draws in a ragged breath. ‘He pulled it over my head. The strap caught on my ear, but he kept pulling it.’

Her right cheek is red raw. He must have scraped it with the strap as well. Rage boils in my blood. How dare this man hurt my daughter? I’m afraid to ask, but I force myself. ‘Then what happened?’

‘Once he got my bag, he ran off. He’s got my phone, my money, everything,’ she wails. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘That doesn’t matter, so long as you’re okay.’ I pull her close.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asks. ‘Did Chloe tell on me?’

‘No. Linda rang – Chloe’s in hospital.’

Liv pulls away. ‘Chloe’s in hospital? What happened?’

‘She had to have emergency surgery for appendicitis.’

Her eyes grow wide with concern. ‘Is she okay?’

‘I think so. She’s recovering in hospital. Come on, let’s get into the light.’

She’s limping as we walk to the totem pole. ‘What’s hurting?’ I ask.

‘My knee, it got twisted.’

As I help her to sit, I notice what she’s wearing: denim shorts, a burgundy vest, and a brown corduroy waistcoat with a long string of beads and a lanyard dangling from her neck. I’ve never seen her in an outfit like that before.

She looks like me.

I wore an outfit almost exactly like it, for the entire summer of 1997, when I was festival hopping around Europe on a tour bus with Will, living out of a backpack.

I sit beside her. She’s trembling as I gather her in. I try Scott, but the call doesn’t connect.

‘Did you talk to Nathan?’ she asks.

‘We asked him to help us find you,’ I admit.

‘Nathan didn’t want to meet me, did he? He only messaged because you made him.’

I draw my mouth into a line and nod gently.

She buries her face in her hands.

‘You’re better off,’ I say. ‘He’s an idiot. I don’t know what he sees in that other girl.’

Liv drags her fingers down her face and fixes me with a glare. ‘What other girl?’

Just then, I spot Scott on the far side of the enclosure. I give him a wide, sweeping wave and he heads towards us.

‘We thought he was with you, so we followed him,’ I explain. ‘He went into his tent with this girl––’

‘He was in his tent with a girl?’

‘I thought you knew. I thought that’s why you went off by yourself––’

She fixes me with an icy stare. ‘Why would you tell me like that? How could you be so mean?’

I wince. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t––’

‘Whatever,’ she snaps. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

But of course, nothing matters more to her. Her eyes shine with tears and resentment.

She heaves herself up and hobbles towards Scott. He envelops her in his arms; they stand there for a long time hugging and talking. I can’t hear what they’re saying. Over her head, Scott glares at me.

Clearly, he’s disappointed in me, too.