Authors: Noël Cades
Mush had got a bottle of vitamin pills and was drawing smiley faces on them, selling them to unwitting ravers for a fiver each. He was making a killing.
"It’s doing them a favour really," Tash said. "They’re not buying anything dodgy and at least they won’t OD. Most of them are already high."
Alice thought it was deceitful but she couldn’t argue with Tash’s logic. She remembered when a boy at Fairmount had sold fake acid tabs to several girls. They had convinced themselves they were tripping and made idiots of themselves. They never lived it down.
Leafy offered to fix them up with something real but Alice declined. For several reasons she had decided not to do anything that night. Except maybe a beer. She wanted Mr Walker to see her sober, not off her face.
She realised that everyone was coupled up - if you could count Mush and Kate as a pair - with Jules happily reunited with Leafy. That left her and Mr Walker, who wasn’t taking anything either. He didn’t look very comfortable in the gathering.
"Let’s go for a walk and find some beers," she suggested and he went with her.
If this was a date, it was the strangest date ever. Perhaps if she got him drunk enough again it would be easier. She hadn’t even thought about how they would get back, or when.
They bought several cans - he paid, though Alice tried to - and then looked for somewhere to drink them. There were people going up and down a fairly steep hill that flanked the festival area. "Do you want to go up there? There must be a good view from the top," he said.
Alice wanted to be on top of the hill with him more than anywhere else in the world. It was a harder climb than she expected but eventually they were on the summit. And the view was spectacular.
In the growing dusk the colours of the festival were fading but it was starting to glow with light. They drank the beers in silence. There really wasn’t anything to say. Alice felt a deep gladness that she had come. This festival was something else. She would remember it for a lifetime. She would remember being on this hill, with him, with the sight of it stretching out before and beneath them.
She really wanted him to put his arm around her, to kiss her, but he didn’t touch her at all. He just sat there, drinking a beer. She wanted to taste it on his lips so badly.
There was a helicopter flying overhead.
"Police?" he asked.
"They can’t break it up because it’s too big," she said. But she wondered if the scene could continue. The parties were getting bigger, wilder. This one was making headlines all over the country. Something about that night, the mood, her own life with school finishing soon, it all felt like the end of an era.
"How long will it last?"
Alice wasn’t sure. "Until it fizzles out or they bring in the army."
A couple of beers later she was feeling more spirited again. She wanted to dance or at least be nearer the music. "Let’s go back down."
Once again he came with her, half running down the steep slope because it seemed easier to get down it quickly than slowly.
They found Spiral Tribe, one of the sound systems, near the centre of it all. It was open-air unlike some of the other systems which were in large marquees. An assorted collection of vehicles formed a circle and people were dancing inside it.
Round the fringes there were frequent offers of pills, mushrooms and other substances. A girl was shouting "Acid! Ketamine! E!" at the top of her voice. Alice turned them all down.
"You’re not taking anything this time?" he asked.
"I don’t always. I mean I hardly do ever really." She was loosened up enough by the beer that the music sounded better, but it didn’t have that amazing, all consuming quality it did after taking ecstasy. "Do you ever?"
"Not for years, since university."
Alice had no idea where the others were. She could only vaguely remember the direction of Mush’s van. She wanted to dance but she felt awkward asking him, and she couldn’t just start dancing in front of him.
Then miraculously she saw Jules, lost in the music. She grabbed her and Jules flung her arms around Alice, hugging her and saying all the usual things that Jules said when she was as high as a kite.
"If you want to wait here I’ll get some more beers," he said.
"Don’t get lost. Remember the spiral," Alice told him. The sound system had a huge black and white spiral symbol hanging from the side of one of its vans.
Even though she wasn’t high she was soon fuelled with adrenalin just from being there, the night, the music, Jules being crazy happy, all the people.
Mr Walker came back and they drank more beer, and even though he showed no signs of wanting to dance it didn’t matter. Everything there was a spectacle. Some guy who had allegedly been mugging people was chased and pinned down by a group of ravers. Flares were fired at police helicopters. People milled all around, dancing, walking, drinking, wasted.
They moved from place to place, visiting the areas where different types of music were playing. They bought food. The ground was strewn with rubbish.
Then the others had gone for a bathroom break and Alice was alone for a moment, just outside one of the marquees. A short distance away she saw a group of ravers standing around something - a girl - slumped on the ground having some kind of fit. The people with her were all absolutely wasted and were staring like fish.
Alice wasn’t so drunk that she couldn’t recognise the girl was in serious trouble. She went over. The girl was on her back and vomiting, coughing and choking. Some instinct took over and Alice rolled her over, tried to clear the vomit from around the girl’s mouth.
"What did she take?" she tried asking the people watching but they were useless, absolutely off their heads.
Then the girl convulsed and was suddenly still. She was unconscious. Alice moved her over but she was limp. Had she stopped breathing? Her chest seemed still. She put her ear to the girl’s mouth and felt nothing. No warmth, no breath. They had done first aid at school but the rubbery Resusci-Annie dummy was nothing like this.
Alice pulled vomit out of the girl’s mouth with her finger. Hoping she had the head in the right position she tried breathing into the girl. She was terrified. Her hands were shaking and she was trying to find a pulse. Was it young people or old people whose wrists didn’t work? She could never manage to find the carotid artery. She grasped the girl’s wrist and nearly wept with relief when she felt a pulse. She gave her another breath.
"Get help!" she yelled at the crowd, there were more people gathering but Alice barely noticed them.
Afterwards she wasn’t really sure whether everything had moved very slowly or lightning fast. She remembered the terror, the feeling of helplessness and frustration because everyone seemed too out of it to do anything. She remembered keeping up the rescue breathing, checking the pulse, but for how long she wasn’t sure.
Suddenly there were paramedics. They were taking the girl from her, lifting her onto a stretcher. "Do you know what she took?" one of them asked but Alice shook her head. She could barely speak.
"I don’t even know her, I just found her." She felt dizzy, she could taste the girl’s vomit in her own mouth.
"How long has she been like this?"
Alice didn’t know. She couldn’t even guess.
They left with the girl and she was standing there, unsure what to do. She turned round and Mr Walker was there. She sank against him and clung to him. She was weeping and she didn’t know why. His arms were around her and he was telling her that it was ok. "Let’s get out of here," he said and she didn’t argue.
She could barely remember the drive home. She just knew she was exhausted, wasted, shattered. The image of the girl was there every time she closed her eyes. And with it all those stupid, drugged up idiots dancing around, not realising or caring that someone was probably dying. Was the girl dead? Would she ever find out?
Alice didn’t even realise until he pulled up in an unfamiliar street that he hadn’t taken her home. "Where are we?" she asked.
"I didn’t think your parents would appreciate seeing you like that. Come back to mine and have a shower and some coffee first."
He had taken her to his place. Even if he claimed to only have altruistic intentions it was still crossing a line.
Alice was too zoned out to even look around her. She let him usher her up the stairs and to the bathroom.
"There are clean towels in there," he told her.
She let the shower take her over, wash everything away. She sank to her knees and cried with the water, cleansing the night and the smoke and the beer and the mud. Drowning the images in her mind in the constant fall of hot, wet drops. She didn’t know how long she was there. It could have been minutes, it felt like hours.
Finally she left the warm cocoon of steam and wrapped herself up in a towel. It was large and white.
In the mirror she saw her face, bare of make up, her hair slicked back and wet. She felt returned to something, a new state, a blank slate.
Coming out of the bathroom and not really knowing or thinking where she should go, she walked into the room across the corridor. It was the bedroom. He was in there, he had just taken off his shirt.
He was disconcerted. "I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come out."
She couldn’t speak.
Then he was silent too, and looked at her, his grey-blue eyes directly gazing into hers.
She felt fragile. He looked so powerful, the breadth of his chest, the strength of his arms. She ached for him.
And then he was there. Before her.
He put a hand on either side of her head, tilted it towards his, and brought his mouth onto hers. It was firm yet gentle. Nothing like the violent kiss in the pavilion. This was tender, exploring. His tongue probing her, drawing her own tongue into his mouth. They interlocked, soft and wet, quenching a thirst.
The towel slipped from her and she was naked before him. She didn’t feel embarrassed. She saw the desire in his eyes and it made her feel desirable, that she had nothing to hide from him.
He moved his hands to her shoulders as she reached up to him, and Alice felt his hands slide down her back, warm and dry, making her skin tingle. He brought his hands around her sides and brushed his thumb over the side of her breasts.
She shivered and arched up to him. Then his mouth was on her neck, open, firmer. She felt him drawing her in, sucking on her skin. It would mark her again, but she was glad of it. She wanted to be marked as his, to have a sign that proved how much he wanted her.
Then she felt his lips move down her neck, across her chest. His hand cupped her breast and he brought his mouth down upon it. Her nipple swelled taut as he swirled his tongue over it.
Then his other hand was between her thighs. She knew where he was going and she trembled in anticipation.
They remained wordless. It was skin on skin, body pressed against body, a shared need. He had suppressed this for so long and she had longed for it for so long.
She felt his fingers slide between her legs, finding her slick and wet, wanting him like she had never wanted anyone before. He probed her entrance and she flinched at the sensation then gasped as his thumb rubbed over her clitoris. No one had touched her like this, so gently yet masterfully.
Then he picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down. He knelt over her and began kissing her again. His shoulders were so huge and strong. She put her hands against his chest, feeling the flat, hard planes and the heat of his skin. She reached around his back, clinging to him, wanting to run her hands lower to touch other parts of his body but not quite daring.
Now his head was lowered to her breast again, the soft skin of her stomach caressed by his left hand as his right cupped her breast and took it in his mouth.
Alice had a sudden flash of all that had gone before: the Dog & Duck, school, the pavilion, his reluctance. She thought of him coaching cricket and being a member of staff, an authority figure, his resolve to keep a proper distance from her finally eroded by desire.
She cried out as his head went between her legs and his tongue slid between her folds. It was as though he knew her body better than she did. He teased her opening with the tip of his tongue before moving up over her nub with more pressure. It was like a white light was concentrated there, the strained strings of a violin, tension, an electric sensitivity. Images came into her mind and she writhed against him as his fingers gently probed where his tongue had just been, firmer, harder, just a little deeper.
He brought her to the edge but wouldn’t take her over it. Instead, just as she thought the wave would come over her he broke off and moved his body back over hers. He pressed the length of his torso against her, skin against skin, crushing her with his weight. It was deliberate. He was showing her his strength, his power, his need.
She doubted if he would even let her get away now. He wanted her so much that it was beyond rational thought, just pure, physical need to take her, not even ask. She knew because she felt the same.
They hadn’t discussed anything about this, he didn’t know what experience she had or rather the lack of it. Would he be able to tell? Did it matter?
He had been so focused on her that she hadn’t even touched or seen his hardness except feeling it against her thigh, where it felt huge. But as his knees pushed her legs aside she felt him guide it towards her. She wanted him so badly, she felt a need for him to fill her, but part of her was scared. What if it hurt? What if it was unbearable? But she didn’t dare say anything. She knew she could bear anything for him.
And then he was at her entrance, slipping in, helped by her wetness, and with a firm thrust he was inside her. She tensed and couldn’t breathe for a moment, the pain was so sharp. Then it eased as he began to move in and out of her and she began to relax.
He didn’t know, she thought. He didn’t realise, or I think he would have taken it more slowly.