-13-
Alle had searched everywhere.No one had seen a lanky, black-clad man with smudged eye-liner and a mop of unruly hair.Or rather, they’d seen one too many such individuals, just none who could definitely be said to be Ronnie Bush.This was a Swedish rock festival.Black clothing was de rigueur.Guy-liner was not a distinguishing feature, and there wasn’t a convenient stall selling traditional British sweets.If there had been, this task would surely have been a whole lot easier.
Four laps of the main site, a dozen circuits of the VIP zone, and she was still no closer to locating him.Her feet were aching, she had an insect bite on her shin, and now the sky was greying over.Pretty soon night would fall, and this pop-up city would become even more unnavigable.Ronnie more unfindable.And her status as Spook’s girlfriend, potentially less concrete.
She hadn’t seen him to know how he’d reacted to being outed.Finding Ronnie had taken precedence.
In the plus column, she’d now met members of so many famous rock bands that she’d literally never need to plead for anyone’s number ever again.She had literally dozens upon dozens of business cards in her bag belonging to everyone from bands just starting out to members of some of the biggest groups on the planet.“You produce Ronnie Bush.Epic.Here, have a business card.”Well, the business cards thing was mostly via their managers.
Course, none of them had seen Ronnie, even if they could all hum his new single.It really was scary how quickly things could disseminate through a crowd.
All right, she needed to stop a minute.
Stop.Think, Alle.Where would he go?
Where would Ronnie consider safe?
Not his campervan or the Black Halo tour bus, as they’d be full of people.In fact, not anywhere there were too many people.Somewhere quiet and warm.Away from the noise and all the frantic bustle.Away from all the people who’d so unbalanced him.
Did such a place even exist on this site?
God, what if he’d gone off site?
Her phone pinged with a text from Ginny.
Ginny: Still no sign.Sally’s organising rides to hotel.Do you want in, or are you staying here to keep looking?
Alle: How long until they leave?
Ginny: Not sure.Staggering departures.Maybe 20-30 minutes.
Alle: What’s Chauncey doing?
Ginny: He’s got onsite security involved.They’re gonna do a whole site sweep.
Alle: Okay.I’ll start heading back once I’ve finished up the current camping field I’m in.Don’t let them leave without me.Also, I still need time to punch my brother.
Ginny: Will get them to hold on until punching is accomplished.
Ginny: Although, he deserves more than a fist in his face.
Alle: I was considering punching way lower.
And actually, what Marshall deserved was to be ripped a new arsehole.
But Ronnie first.
The rest of the south-west camping field yielded her nothing.No clues.No definitive sightings, just a whole lot of rumour.Hence she turned back towards the band area.Alle was on the fringe of the spectator field when the pungent aroma of smoky tea poured from the doorway of a nearby tepee.God, yes.What she wouldn’t give for a nice hot cuppa right now.Especially if it came with a sit down.
She had time before Black Halo began making their ways to the hotel.
Weary, Alle let the fragrance tempt her.Up close, it was obvious the establishment wasn’t an official vendor, rather an opportunistic venture.Someone had hastily daubed a sign across the outside of the canvas that read;Ma & Primrose’s.
Alle stuck her head around the door and found an interior of colourful patterned carpets and mountains of multi-coloured cushions and pouffes.It looked as if it ought to be home to indolently reclining gentlemen engaged in illicit drug taking, not an enticing array of home-baked cakes on mismatched china and a vast array of bubbling brass kettles.
“Tea,” she pleaded of the proprietor; a rather strapping individual, with the makings of a straggly beard.
He began to rattle off a long list of varieties.
