CHAPTER 1
There was a heavy dew that morning, and I expected Eric’s axe to be out of tune.

I had suggested he take up the harmonica instead of the banjo, as only half the notes suck, but he had slapped my arse at that. Sod. I grunted my way out of the tent, never easy in a long skirt unless you roll it above the knees first, and left him drooling into the pillow. Oddly, both Kelly and Kirsty were appearing at the same time. Now, I know that women living closely together have been known to synchronise their monthly cycle, but this seemed to be all about bladders and camping. Of course, as Kirsty grew, she was feeling the pressure there more than the rest of us, so it wasn't surprising that she was up.

“Morning Kel, Kirst. Shall we top up the water while we’re there, aye?”

Kirsty looked me up and further up, as she is so much shorter than me.

“Annie, love, you really need to give trousers or leggings a go when it’s as damp as this. You just get the hem all wet”

I laughed. “Spent too many years in bloody trousers, aye? I wear them for work, so where’s the problem? Anyway, look at Kelly’s outfit!”

“Come on, children, no arguing or I’ll stop your beer”

Giggles and full bladders rarely mix well, so we sped up, and thankfully there were no queues. We did our morning necessaries, and wheeled the now-full water carrier back to the edifice, where Jan was stirring the first batch of beans on the stove. Kirsty looked tired.

“How are you two bearing up? How’s his back?”

“Ah, Annie, he says it’s great, like having a board in the bed, keeps him straight, yeah? Little ‘un’s quiet, as well, so no worries there”

“Just, you look a bit tired, aye?”

She grinned. “That, my darling, is what loads of loud music and his lordship wanting to dance and stop up late for the beer do! Tell me, this is the last night with the dancing, innit?”

“Yeah…but tomorrow night is the big session. It might be another late one, aye?”

She groaned. “It’s not just that, Annie, it’s when he gets together with the other two, and I don’t have a clue what they are saying. That boy’s granddad, oh for fuck’s sake”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. Jimmy was bad enough normally, but as soon as he caught Den’s accent he went so broad he was transcontinental, and Den seemed inclined to follow suit. It was worth it, though, to see him on his feet again, and dancing, even if he had to take regular breaks; but those breaks seemed to coincide with an empty glass, so all was not lost. The idea of making the pilgrimage with so many friends in tow had really been Darren’s, and I had been rather surprised to find the devious little sod had been going behind my back to arrange things with the others. My little anniversary trip with Eric and the Woodruffs had turned into a wholesale invasion, and I am sure we must have taken up a tenth of the camping available. I knew his motives, though, and most of them were admirable. The one about getting Shan into a tent, though…

Naomi and Albert had agreed to let him come, after consultation with Polly, on the basis that he took the space in the Edifice that Kelly had vacated. Darren said we had enough for a football team and reserves; Steph that we needed one more for a rugby team, and so I pointed at Jimmy, but he just said something that sounded like “Haddaway and shite”

It was an anniversary, though, for so many of us, and I found myself astonished yet again by the luck that had brought me such friends, and such a lover. Who was still snoring when I looked in.

Darren was up, still looking proud of the coloured wristband put on two days before. All of this was so foreign to him, I realised, a world away from what he had known up till then. I had been camping since childhood, and all the little tricks I took for granted, apart from exiting a tent in a long skirt, were second nature. Years of long solo cycle touring had honed those habits and skills further, but it was Darren’s reaction to his first night under canvas that had astonished me.

Jan had collared me on the Saturday morning.

“He came in with us last night, Annie. Said he was worried with just the fabric of the tent around him. He’s still frightened, isn’t he?”

So frightened, and so brave at the same time. What is courage without fear? I had spoken to Eric, and then Darren, that same morning. I recognised his expression.

“Mr Eyres, don’t you try that on me, aye? Are we not mates? Do you not trust me?”

He was still doing the look away, and so I took his chin and turned his face to mine, and spoke as gently as I could.

“Darren, I understand, but remember one thing: everything you have ever needed to prove to us, has been done, aye? Now, you know I get the night terrors sometimes, so I look to my friends to take me through them, yeah? Nothing there that I am ashamed of, it’s just life”

“Yeah, but you got Eric, innit, and he loves you loads”

“And I got you too, aye? You don’t love me?”

That was possibly unfair, but he did, and I loved him, and after the tears and the hugs I sat him down again and pointed out at the tents and caravans around us.

“What do you see, Darren?”

“Tents and stuff, yeah?”

“Not just that, Darren, but people. All here for the same reason, music and dancing and stuff. You think they’ll have any energy after the sort of stuff we did last night to go on the prowl?”

I didn’t mention how much energy Eric had still had left, nor, from what I had heard while stifling giggles, Mark and Kelly had managed to find, but still.

“Here’s my deal, Mr Eyres. You get to squire your girl around on your own today, if I can square it with her mums. You take a programme where I will mark what we will be doing, you take your phone, and you meet us for lunch and tea, aye?”

“Just me and Shan, lahk?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Not ‘like’ just you and Shan, but ‘actually’ just you and Shan. Let me speak to the girls, though. They may say no. Now, this is for you to see there is nothing to worry about here, aye? I am not dumping you, I am just letting the two of you have some time together without what Kelly calls the ‘olds’ watching you. Deal?”

His tears were forgotten so quickly it was as if they had never flowed. I had some more later, when I spoke to Kate, but they were happier.

“You trust him, Annie?”

“Absolutely, but it’s Chantelle I wonder about. Will she be OK with so many people around her and just him to call on?”

Kate gave a strange whole-body shrug.

“Annie, love, they have to dip their toes in the water some time. They will have a programme with all our plans on, we will be a phone call away…I’ll talk to Ginny and Shan and see what they say, OK?”

And that was Saturday. They were back for tea, and never left our sides during the evening’s dance and concerts, but that night Darren slept alone.

There he was, Sunday morning, slicing mushrooms while Chantelle buttered bread, the two of them whispering and giggling in the way of young love that looks and sounds like children but burns with adult hormonal urgings. I had a sudden and painful eruption of jealousy, and pushed it back down. Life was so much better than I had ever dreamt it could be, and if it had taken a little longer to get there, sod it. My reason for smiling was just coming back from the bogs with a slightly hungover Dennis by his side. Breakfast was taking shape.

We lost love’s young dreamers straight after the dishes were done, and just before a smug pair of hotel guests joined us, Stewie doing his best to look haughtily down on our palatial canvas shelter. It didn’t stop him nicking a bacon sandwich, though.

Darren joined me for the lunchtime session, bodhran in one hand and girl in the other. And the ceilidh that night had two more dancers who had to be shown how to swing their partner, and then told when to stop,

I was in my own world of happiness, just then. Eric kept me away from the hog roast stall, Steph and other friends played my lips to death, and every so often I would catch Kirsty giving her stomach just a little rub, a little smile, as her husband half-danced with one of the other girls and smiled to light the world.

One year. That is all it was, one year of being out, of being me, and I had a sudden burst of morbidity. If something happened, if I had to return to Adam, it wouldn’t be a slow suicide this time. It was a second or two before I realised that Shan was tugging her other hero onto the floor, his grin even bigger, while a young man stood before me.

“You dancing or sitting there like a lemon, yeah?”