Page 99 of Two Hit Wonder

"While we’re on the subject of forgiveness," Iona said, turning to Cam. They might as well get everything out of the way at once. "The Elijah thing. It… It wasn’t okay. But we understand. Don’t we?" She looked around at the others.

Cam looked down at the ground, her bravado flickering. "I don’t want to say this again. Just this once. He used me. I trusted him, and he used me to get a story. He sat in my flat and drank my wine and asked questions about Maeve like he was interested in the music. And I told him things. Because I'm an idiot who wanted someone to listen."

"You're not an idiot," Ellie said quietly.

"I'm a bit of an idiot." Cam sniffed.

"I'm sorry." Iona touched her arm. "That's awful."

"He’s an arsehole," Maeve added.

"Yeah, well, don’t be too sorry." Cam's smile was sharper now, edged with something almost gleeful. "I've already handled it."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that Elijah may or may not think that something’s going to go down at the festival." She cleared her throat. "As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t already written most of the story based on the kind of rumors that he’s been hearing." She gave a wicked grin."You know the sort of stuff. Public meltdown. Career-ending disaster."

Ellie lifted an eyebrow. "Cam…"

Cam rolled her eyes. "Just you wait and see," she said. "Best that you don’t ask too many questions."

"You’re either brilliant or insane," Maeve said.

"Bit of both, probably." But Cam's smile had faltered slightly. Under the bravado, there was something else. Something bruised.

"You liked him," Iona said softly. "Didn't you?"

Cam didn't answer. She didn't have to. Her face said everything her mouth wouldn't.

Iona moved first, pulling Cam into a hug. Then Ellie joined, and then Maeve was there too, all four of them tangled together in a mess of arms and hair and someone's elbow in someone else's ribs.

"This is very emotional," Cam said, muffled. "I'm uncomfortable."

"Shut up," said three voices at once.

When they finally separated, Iona looked around for Maeve.

The space where she'd been standing was empty.

Maeve would play with them at Lakeside. She'd said yes. Shepherd had her commitment, the band had her voice. But Iona didn't know if she had Maeve. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The backstage area at Lakeside was approximately the size of a small aircraft hangar and about twice as chaotic. Roadies shouted over the thrum of distant bass. Someone was looking for a missing microphone stand, and someone else was yelling about amp settings. A man in a headset ran past carrying what appeared to be an enormous stuffed flamingo, and Iona decided it was best just not to ask.

And her heart was beating so hard in her chest that it might break out and she didn’t care. This was it. This was what she wanted, what she’d waited fifteen years for, even if she hadn’t realized at the time.

"This is mental," Cam said, her leg bouncing so fast it was practically vibrating. "This is properly mental. We're actually doing this."

"We're actually doing this," Ellie agreed. She was leaning against a road case, arms folded, impossibly calm. Like she was waiting for a bus. Like they weren't about to walk out in front of forty thousand people.

Iona envied her the composure. Her own hands hadn't stopped shaking since they'd arrived at the festival site. Her stomach had given up trying to process food somewhere around lunchtime and was now just sitting there, sulking.

"Has anyone seen my pick?" Cam asked. "The lucky one. The blue one."

"You're a drummer," Maeve said. "You don't use picks."

"I know. It's for luck. I've had it since I was sixteen."