Page 102 of Dead to Me

She’s got support,Nicola thought, nodding to herself.She doesn’t need you.

And she turned her back on them and began to queue once again for her mocktail.

At 10.21 a Trinity English fellow named Martin White extracted himself from the main music tent, where the ChemicalBrothers were playing their headline set.He’d rushed away from his slow-moving group of academic friends to make it to the front and raised his arms as they’d entered the stage, full of nostalgia for his teenage years.

It had taken him probably fifteen minutes to remember that he’d never actually liked jumping around to music, and after twenty-five minutes of gritting his teeth and trying not to swear when his feet got stamped on he’d decided it was time to leave it to the more energetic.

He was now clammy with sweat, his white shirt soaked through and his tux prickling at the neck.It was barely any cooler out here, but it was at least quiet.Most people were either in one of the tents or on the rides, or clustered at the various bars.

Martin pulled his phone out to message his little group.They would probably be up on the lawn already, waiting patiently for the start of the fireworks.They none of them liked to rush.

He glanced up as another figure emerged from the tent, this one hurrying, and he found himself watching her.There was something particularly frantic in the way she was walking, one arm across her body and her head lowered towards her phone screen.

He watched her lift the phone to her ear, her feet moving compulsively, and then saw an unmistakable drop in her expression.He heard her swear before she hurriedly scrolled on the phone again and made another call.

Lost her friends, maybe?he thought.Or something valuable?

She kept holding on, phone to her ear, clearly listening to it ring.He heard her say, quietly, ‘Come on, Reid.’And then her face fell and she looked… bereft.

Hmm.Maybe an argument with a lover,he thought.

But then a baby-faced young man a little taller than she wasappeared out of the tent and put a hand on her arm in what looked a very relationship-type move.

‘Hey,’ the boyfriend said.‘What’s up?’

‘I… Nat isn’t answering,’ the girl with the phone said, turning to him.‘My fucking coach is ghosting me.Why did he tell Ryan he doesn’t know me?He’s dropped me, hasn’t he?He’s fucking dropped me.’

‘I’m sure it doesn’t… Ryan probably got confused,’ the boyfriend said, soothing her.

‘I can’t do this again,’ the young woman said, her voice raw.‘I can’t fail at all this again.’

Martin felt more than a little uncomfortable at how emotional she was, but curious, too.It felt like a puzzle he wanted an answer to, so he kept listening.

The young woman pulled away from her boyfriend and started scrolling on her phone once more.

‘Hey,’ the boyfriend said, gently, tugging on the arm that held the phone.‘In the unlikely event that he’s been stupid enough to drop you, you’ll fight back.You’re Aria Lauder.You’re not going to let some guy tell you what you’re worth.’

And in spite of his former cool interest Martin felt an ache at that little speech.It reminded him immediately and powerfully of Fionnan, and how he’d once been there to comfort him.How he’d once been right by Martin’s side, against the world… before work opportunities became more important.

He found himself watching with a sense of nostalgic jealousy as the girl– Aria– looked up at her boyfriend, her eyes very wide and very trusting.The young man reached out and gently prised the phone off her.

‘Let’s put this away, huh?’he said, and tucked it into the handbag she had over her shoulder.His gaze moved past her then, towards Martin, and Martin looked away.He felt likesome kind of a voyeur, despite their decision to play out their little scene in front of him.

He found himself thinking about that speech of the boy’s as he walked away.Memories of Fionnan took the place of his brief concern for the young woman, and he was too busy yearning for someone to look out for him to worry that the young man might have been controlling her.

The person who came, perhaps, the closest to doing something– to stepping in– was a waitress named Rachel Skoulding.She’d been working for four hours by the time the crowds started assembling along the riverbank for the fireworks display and she was really ready for a break.

Handing out champagne at the start had been fine.She’d actually kind of enjoyed smiling at everyone and welcoming them to the event– even when she had to keep going and refilling her tray or holding it steady when people grabbed at glasses and spilled some.

It was all this clearing up of glasses she didn’t really like.Trying to squeeze past students while they seemed oblivious and pick up the sticky, half-empty glassware from the weird places everyone had stashed them.

She’d thought there would be more glamour to the job, if she was honest.Everyone had told her it’d be ‘an experience’, including her older sister, who worked for the college.She just hoped getting to wander around and eat stuff on her break would make it worth it.

She was clearing glasses from the cabaret tent when she caught sight of Anna.She didn’t know her, of course, and she never heard her real name spoken.

To Rachel, Anna was at first just the silent one standing between a jubilantly affectionate brunette girl and a ridiculously handsome guy with floppy hair.

‘Will you be OK, James?’the brunette was asking the handsome guy, her head against the blonde girl’s arm.The brunette looked, Rachel thought critically, off her face on MDMA.‘With the minute’s silence and… everything?’

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