He ran over the plan again in his mind.

They'd spent hours debating whether they could trust Durham or not, but in the end, the prospect of putting the Barayev organisation out of business with Durham's information was too tempting. As the debate had worn on, it had become increasingly obvious that DCI Mills was a lone voice in the wilderness, with most of the personalities involved dividing into one of several camps. Firstly, the police officers who thought "he was one of our own, give him a chance". Secondly, the police officers who thought "he was one of our own, give him a chance and let's see if we can make those smug bastards at Five eat crow for a while for getting it wrong".

Thirdly, the officers from both the police and MI5 who thought "Any chance to take down a major trafficking organisation is one that should be seized with both hands".

And fourthly, he suspected, the hopefully very small minority of officers from both organisations who thought "any chance to take down a major trafficking organisation is one that should be seized with both hands, and if the people whose lives are at stake happen not to be our own staff… well, that's not such a bad thing".

He really hoped that Anne Langford wasn't one of those, but he suspected she might be. She had been utterly adamant that Andrew Davenport could not be recalled from duty. With the result that, as Eames had pointed out as tactfully as possible, that when he came off-duty, he was going to walk back into MI5's office to find one of his major cases being re-examined with a view to determining whether he'd been negligent.

Langford's face had struck just the right combination of determination and concern as she replied that the situation simply did not allow for Davenport to be recalled. "I don't like to believe that one of my officers could have been negligent. However, if Durham was undercover without permission..." She'd shrugged. "He was an excellent officer. It's not impossible, much as I hate to admit it, that we might have been wrong, that he might have hidden himself undercover so thoroughly that we were fooled into thinking he was corrupt. If so, that wrong should be righted without delay."

"And without giving Davenport the chance to defend himself?"

Langford's expression had gone just ever so slightly steely; anyone other than Eames would have been daunted. "I appreciate your concern for someone whose live you saved, Detective. But we have bigger things at stake. This situation isn't of our making; we must simply take advantage of it as best we can." The finality of her tone indicated that the subject was closed to further discussion.

Of more concern to Bobby Goren that the fate of Andrew Davenport, however, was the interplay between the two women in his life. He'd spotted some tension between Sienna and Eames before their break, mainly in the form of short unhappy glances (on Eames' part) and tight-jawed resignation (on Sienna's). Since they'd come back from the break in the middle of the meeting, however, both of them looked slightly as though they were sucking lemons. He'd have liked to have thought that it was entirely down to the situation, but the fact that they kept exchanging reproachful (Eames) and angry (Sienna) looks indicated it wasn't.

I thought the two of them liked each other. Half the time they team up to bust my ass like they're old friends, and now they can't look at each other. When did my life become so complicated?

"Detective?"

He looked up swiftly, covering for his lapse in concentration by frowning at the notes he'd been scribbling (in reality, random thoughts in German) as if he'd been trying to work out what to do next. "Hmm?"

"I believe we're nearly ready for you to make the call."

Oh shit, yes. Durham had made it pretty clear that Goren, and Goren alone, was to make the call to inform Durham as to whether they'd accepted his offer.

"It's decided, then. You're going to accept Durham's proposal?"

"Yes. We are."

And with that, the meeting dispersed. Suddenly, he realised Alex Eames was going in the wrong direction, following some of the officers… and then it hit him fully; she wasn't going to be joining him and Sienna. She, he and Sienna had originally been called to London to assist the team investigating the stadium attack earlier that year. Since he and Sienna were needed to bring in Durham, Eames was the only one of them left to do that.

Sienna had thought it an excuse to bring them over to be used as bait to tempt Durham out of hiding, and perhaps there had been an element of that, but evidently there was a real need for their information. Of course, they'd discussed that during the meeting, but it hadn't really hit him until now: if Eames had to assist the anti-terrorism team, he was going to be without her for however long it took to set Durham's plan in motion, and carry it through.

Oblivious to how it might look to others, he hurried off down the corridor after her, leaving Langford and Sienna standing staring at his back in the room.

"Eames! Eames, wait up."

She paused, and he saw her shoulders tighten for just a second before she turned round. He could see the tension in her jaw beneath her professional face, and wondered if he was now as transparent to her.

"Good luck, Bobby."

"You… you too." He halted, staring at her. She stared back.

"What…" He wasn't sure what to say. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry?" Eames' voice was both wary and weary. He hated that. Hated that his partner sounded that way to him.

He got closer, so that they could talk with less chance of being overheard. "Eames… something happened back then. Between you and Sienna."

She looked at him, and he read the answer in her expression. "You'd better get going, Bobby – there are people behind you wondering where the hell you've gone." She turned to follow the investigation team down the corridor.

"Alex!"

She whirled on the spot and stared at him.

"Please tell me what's wrong?"

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Nothing… nothing, Bobby, nothing serious. Just…" She paused for breath. "Just, it seems as though this is very personal for Sienna, and I'm concerned about her. And about you."

He reached out and gently grasped her arm, aiming to reassure. "Okay. I'll watch out for that. Trust me, Eames, I don't have any intention of getting either of us hurt."

She grinned at him, her usual tough-cop grin. "Yeah. I'll remember that when I'm sitting on my ass in a nice warm office whilst the two of you are off running round London in the cold."

"I'm sorry, Eames."

"It's not your fault, Bobby, okay? I'll be fine. You worry about you."

They smiled at each other, and in a more private situation, he would have hugged her, but couldn't, not in MI5's offices. Her face screwed up into her familiar Alex Eames determined smile, and then she turned, and was gone.

***

Interlude 4: "What Happened At Glastonbury: From the Sky to the Ground".

I quickly scurried down to the bottom of the campsite to join the others, all of whom looked like nothing so much as a bunch of excitable teenagers. For a minute, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation hit me. Here we were, hanging out at a festival in a field like a bunch of hippies, and I guess to anyone else we would have looked like just another bunch of old-enough-to-know-better, young-enough-not-to-care festivalgoers. To me, though…

I looked at our little group and wondered what the other happy campers in the Festival would have thought if they'd known that our little group comprised one ex-soldier and black belt martial arts expert (Tanya), one prize-winning journalist (Jack), one Interpol officer (me), one MI5 agent (Drew), one part-time mechanic and pub cook (Amp, probably winning the prize for the most normal occupation), and several police officers of varying degrees of seniority (Leo, Mark, and most of Leo's team).

Probably run away in fear, I though mordantly. Or at least muttered "Shit!" and started getting rid of suspicious "cigarettes" and "headache pills".

"What took you so long? Let's go," Drew remarked, and hurried off to catch with Tanya (leading the group, naturally) without waiting for a reply. We filed steadily down the hill, through the security gate and out into the festival proper. Everyone else had already set off, so I was left jogging along behind trying to catch up, an ongoing curse if you happen to be only 5ft 5in. As at most such events, it was a long walk through the camping and backstage areas to the parts of the Festival where the shops and stalls were, and I spent most of the walk trying to keep up whilst at the same time marvelling at the tattoos on Tanya's back.

Not that I wasn't familiar with them to some extent, having seen Tanya naked in the changing rooms a few times, but that situation didn't exactly lend itself to detailed examination. Now, however, she was taking advantage of the warm weather to show off the ink decorating her skin with a nearly sheer mesh top and backless bra. (Or so I assumed. She had no bra strap across her back, and I doubted that even Tanya, even at the Glastonbury Festival, would go braless with a top that transparent.) I had no tattoos myself – the thought alone made me wince – but even I could see that they were remarkable pieces of work.

She had several tattoos, some of which were from her Army days, but the three most prominent were the warrior goddesses. On her lower right back, the lion-headed Egyptian warrior goddess Sekhmet turned her head towards the onlooker with a ferocious glare. On her upper left back, occupying most of the back of her shoulder, the Hindu goddess Kali danced madly, eyes wild and tongue lolling. Beside Sekhmet, a fierce woman in Celtic armour with a sword in hand and raven upon her shoulder decorated the other side of Tanya's lower back. I'd always wondered who that was. On impulse, I decided to go up to her and ask.

"Hey, Tanni?"

"Yup?" Tanya finishing swigging water from a bottle, and handed it back to Jack. Who, I couldn't help noticing, was hardly able to take his eyes off his wife in her skin-tight transparent top and tight black jeans. Despite the fact they'd been together for over two years, it was obvious to anyone who knew them that the honeymoon was still very much not over.

I felt – well, not jealous. I didn't want them not to be happy. I just wanted to have what they had with someone who happened to be mine, and I didn't. Or rather, I'd had it and lost it.

"Who's that?" I pointed to her back. "I keep meaning to ask."

She chuckled. "That's Andraste. She's a Celtic warrior goddess, Boudicca used to pray to her before she went into battle."

"That's… not totally a good omen," I pointed out. My grasp of British history wasn't that thorough, but even I knew that Boudicca's Revolt had ended in defeat at the hands of the Roman army.

Tanya snorted. "True, but that's not Andraste's fault. You'd have needed divine intervention to defeat the Romans back then, and trust me when I say that doesn't happen on the battlefield. I thought I should have something to reflect my roots. Mind you, for all I know I might be half-Egyptian. Not small enough to be Indian, though… Hey, where are you lot going?"

Mark and several of the others paused in their march off down one of the side paths. We were in the Festival itself now, the Dance Field, and surrounding by the music thumping out of the three huge marquees that sat at the ends of the field. Between them thronged a mixture of shops, food stalls and bars, the latter two pumping out a steady scent of fried onions and beer.

It was the night before the Festival really started, and you could almost taste the happy excitement in the warm night. Before the big acts took the stages tomorrow, now was the time to roam about, to explore the site, to stumble across the bar with the tiny band playing which consisted of two guys with guitars and one of their girlfriends on vocals, which you'd remember stopping to listen to every time you looked back on the Festival, but whose name you'd never remember, assuming you'd heard it at all.

"We're off to see Johnny's band, they're playing at a bar over near the Acoustic Stage."

I consulted the map hanging round my neck. "Wow, that's a bit of a walk."

"Worth it though, music and cheap beer!" Mark grinned. "Are you coming?"

I hesitated. "Umm… I want to, but I kind of want to see some other bits of the Festival first, so I know where we're going tomorrow." (I still had no idea where the bar we were supposed to be working in tomorrow was, but I was trusting that Tanya would sort that out.)

"You want to go for a bit of a wander, hmm?" Tanya grinned beside me. "Sounds like a plan."

"Well, you guys can join us later. The bar's right next to the Acoustic Stage, I can't remember what it's called, but you've got my mobile number, right?" Mark asked.

I was vaguely aware that he was looking at me quite intently, and that this might be… well, not a date, since there would be six other people present, but a sort of "let me buy you a drink somewhere we don't normally go and get to know each other better" type of invitation.

You should take it, my "sensible" voice muttered to me. Mark's not a bad guy, and you need to start getting out there again.

Yeah. But he's not Bobby. And he doesn't deserve to have a whole evening trying to chat up someone who is looking at him thinking not "You're a great guy" but "You're not Bobby".

Still, I shouldn't be rude. And besides, Drew would be there, and if needs be I could always buy him a drink and talk with him for a while. The thought cheered me up. "Yeah, I have." I patted my cellphone. "You guys go, and I'll walk round here for a while with Tanni and Jack, then come over and join you."

"Sure you won't get lost?"

"Yeah, I can manage," I replied (untruthfully since I had no idea where the hell anywhere was in the Festival, but fuck it, I had a map).

"Sure you don't want to come with us now? It's easy to get lost…"

"Mark. I'm a big girl. I can get myself there, I'm sure. See you in a while."

Mark seemed to sense he'd pushed far enough and backed off with a faintly disappointed smile. "Excellent, okay, see you later. To the beer!" he yelled at the rest of the guys, who cheered enthusiastically and followed him down the path and out of sight.

Tanya and I snorted with laughter. "Men will be boys," she commented.

"Oh yeah. Are you coming for a wander?"

"Maybe… Jack?"

"I fancy a drink and a smoke. See you in fifteen?" He gestured at a nearby bar which consisted of a stall selling drinks and some tiny wooden tables with candle lanterns flickering softly. People were sprawled around on the grass smoking and chattering peacefully.

"Um…" Tanya hesitated for just a second. "Uh…"

I patted her arm. "I really don't mind exploring on my own if you and Jack want to go have a drink, I know you've seen it all before… shall I catch up with you here?"

Tanya smiled. "Yeah. If you don't mind."

"Course not." I smiled back and headed off to explore the stalls, threading my way through the crowds to see if I could find the interesting stuff hidden behind the £1-a-camera, herbal highs, henna tattoos and other assorted tat stalls. Since Jack had put the idea in my head, I decided that I felt like a drink, and set that as my goal. What could I find that wasn't beer?

Suddenly, music drifted out towards me, an old cheesy 80s disco track that made you want to just throw your hands in the air and dance like no-one was looking. And people were. As I got nearer the source of the sounds, I realised they were coming, not from one of the bar tents, but from a wine stall, a large white catering van with a huge model wineglass helpfully perched on the top. The owner had stuck some flashing lights and a ghetto blaster on top of the counter and turned the volume all the way up, and a crowd was dancing in front of it, both boys and girls - and some men and women, at least half of them were old enough to be my parents - spilling wine on each other and dancing badly with huge grins on their faces. Clearly, this was to be the drink for me. I wandered across, bought the largest glass of red wine they were selling, and allowed myself to be dragged into an impromptu boogie to "Dancing Queen" with two guys with dreadlocks.

This was more like it. This was the carnival atmosphere I'd been looking for. As I danced, I suddenly realised, no-one knew where I was. Not one person on the planet Earth knew exactly where I was right now, not my parents, not my friends, no-one. I could vanish. If I wanted to, I could stay here all night and dance with strangers. I could wander freely and go where I wanted, I could walk right out of the Festival and keep going, and no-one could find me. The thought was weirdly exhilarating.

I'd had a truly shit year so far. I'd started it having been shot, and ended the past six months of it by giving evidence to put the man responsible away. Which wouldn't have been so bad, except that he was my ex-boyfriend.

If there's one thing worse than standing up in court being cross-examined about the events leading up to you being shot in the leg and needing the sort of physiotherapy where you have to take painkillers before, during and after, it's standing up in court giving that evidence knowing that every single other person in the court knows that you used to sleep with the person you're giving evidence against, and is just waiting to hear the defence lawyer start dropping snide hints about how, just maybe, you might be a jealous unstable woman out to wreak havoc in the life of the man who broke up with you and your injuries were your own fault for meddling in things you had no right to get involved with. Because, obviously, when a woman sleeps with a man, her brain automatically stops working.

I realised that the guy I was dancing opposite was looking a little unnerved, and smiled quickly. The song ended, and the crowd began to disperse. I decided that I'd danced enough, and set off in search of more interesting experiences.

Bobby would have loved this…

Yet again I found myself in the grip of the past.

I was on the observation deck of the Empire State Building, and awestruck wasn't too strong a word. I was lost for words. I'd known the views would be amazing, but nothing could have prepared me for seeing the city I'd been living in for barely a few weeks from up in the clouds. I almost didn't know where to look next; should it be over there, at the Chrysler building, over here, looking out towards Staten Island, down there, where I was sure I could just glimpse the deli Bobby and I had gotten an early-morning coffee and bagel in (though common sense said that that was impossible and I was imagining that I could see that far down)?

Beside me, Bobby was going through the guidebook, reading the more fascinating parts aloud. "The Empire State is designed to act as a lightning conductor for the surrounding area and is struck by lightning over 100 times a year… you're not listening, are you?"

That last part was said in a playful tone of voice, and I turned around and grinned. "I am listening, honestly… it's just…" I tried to find the right words, shrugged expansively, and settled for exclaiming "Wow!".

Bobby grinned back. "Now, are you glad you decided to be a tourist?"

"Oh my gosh, yes." I spun back to peer out of the window again. "I can't quite believe it, but, it's just… it's amazing, Bobby. Thank you."

He smiled, a really heartstopping Bobby Goren smile that managed to make the wonders of the Empire State recede into the background for a good few seconds. "You're welcome. Want to hear some more amazing facts?"

I grinned mischievously at him. "No, I don't. Don't get me wrong, it's fascinating stuff, but I don't want to hear about the guidebook. What do you see? What does Bobby Goren see when he looks at New York?"

"Wow." Bobby tipped his head on one side and regarded me for a few seconds. His face settled into thought. After the silence had lasted a good few seconds, I decided to prompt him with a smile and an encouraging nod.

"It's… It's kinda tricky to say. Um."

Oh, I've done it again. Said the wrong thing.

So, time to say the right thing. "I'm not asking for every single thing, Bobby," I said gently. "It doesn't have to be everything you see. Just something. What can you see from here that matters to you?" Stupid question, I thought as I said it, the answer's "Ground Zero", like for every New Yorker.

"Well." He walked across to the window, placing his hands upon it and leaning forward, almost pressing his nose to the glass. I joined him, following his gaze.

"I see so much, Sienna, that I don't know where to start." He smiled wryly. "This… this is my home. Where I'm from. I suppose… I can see where I grew up, or at least see where it is…" He pointed in the general direction of Brooklyn. "I see the place I left as soon as I could. I see where my mom lived… where my dad used to live, before he died."

I held my breath. This was the first time Bobby had ever really talked about his family. "And your brother? Where does he…"

Bobby cut me off. "Wherever he can."

Suddenly, he turned from me and almost sprinted over to another window. I followed as fast as I could. "And here… over here, that's my office." He smiled teasingly at me, and pointed to One Police Plaza (or at least in its general direction). I chuckled.

"All of this…" He gestured widely with a sweep of his hand, taking in the city… "It's mine, I suppose. My city. I…" he shrugged and looked embarrassed. "I do what I can for it."

I took his hand. "You do so much, Bobby. Really. I admire you."

Our eyes met, with no barriers between us. I had a sudden, powerful urge to be alone with Bobby. We didn't speak for a good half minute, and when Bobby spoke his voice was low.

"I'm not perfect, Sienna. I'm…" He chuckled wryly. "A bit of an acquired taste."

"I'm acquiring it," I said lightly. "I care about you a lot."

"I care about you, too."

I closed my eyes. I'd never heard Bobby say that so plainly before.

I felt a large hand close over mine, very gently, then Bobby's arm wrapped around my shoulders. "I can see something else from up here, as well…"

I opened my eyes. "What's that?"

He led me over to another window and pointed. "Can you see over there? That state, over there in the distance? That's Connecticut." He smiled at me. "That's something new I see. I see the place I found you."

I reached my hand up and caressed Bobby's large hand, on my shoulder, leaning my head against his broad chest. "Thank you."

"Thank you," he murmured softly, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I want to be with you, Bobby," I murmured softly, but without any of my usual sense of urgency. What was between us was real, and lasting, and it would keep.

And it did. We stayed at the top of the Empire State for another half hour, wandering around hand in hand and making sure we saw all the sights. Then we left, and went home, and made love in a way that had never happened between us before. It was as though all the previous times had just been practising for this one time, when we communicated without words and without having to show off or try things out or stage what we did. It happened so naturally that I was lost for words, because it had never been like that for me before, and, looking into Bobby's eyes, I thought that perhaps it was the first time like this for him, too…

But Bobby is gone. Bobby Goren, the love of my life, was no longer part of it, and never would be. Back in the present, I missed him desperately. I missed the closeness and the friendship and the sex and everything.

I did not believe that everyone had only one soulmate; there were surely many potential partners out there. Having known Bobby, what I truly feared was that life is short and that we only meet people who could be real, true, partners for life once or twice. I feared that I'd met mine and lost him, and who knew if I'd meet another? Maybe that had been my chance.

Enough with the wandering, and brooding, I thought. I needed to stop dwelling on the past and get on with my life. Besides, I'd finished my drink, so it was time to hit the bar. I wandered back slowly towards the open-air bar where I'd left Jack and Tanya.

It was so beautiful, I thought as I got near and saw the little flickering lights of the lanterns. It was completely dark now, and someone had gone around and lit up some little white paper lanterns fluttering on slim metal stalks, like glowing flowers in between each table. How could anyone not love the Festival? I bought another drink, then picked my way slowly through the tables until I saw Jack, who was sprawled on his back with an empty glass beside him, and the happy smile of someone for whom the world had just gone mellow.

"Heeeeyy, SiSi." He smiled and waved, and made no effort to get up. The remains of a rolled-up cigarette were stuck between his lips. I sniffed as I got closer, and realised the reason for the mellowness.

"Isn't that a little bit risky?" I teased gently as I sat down beside him.

"Mmm… yeah, I guess so." He giggled. "It's okay, I smoked most of it over there…" He gestured loosely at several trees near the edge of the bar area, and I noticed that his accent seemed to have gotten thicker, more obviously Scottish. "Me and half the bar… hee hee." He chuckled, then suddenly looked serious. "Och, hang on, do you get tested at work, like Drew? Shit. I'd better put this out." He swiftly stubbed it out on the tin, then fastidiously closed the tin and tucked it into his pocket, then flopped back onto his back, still smiling merrily.

"Where's Tanni?" I asked.

"Gone for a pee. She'll be gone a while." He smiled at me. "Are you having a good time, SiSi? You okay?"

I smiled back. I really liked Jack. Having him around was a bit like having an older brother. The nice kind of older brother, who would look after you on your first day at school, agree to pick you up from your friend's house party at twelve so that you didn't have to suffer the ignominy of being collected by your parents, and who, if he saw you crying, would hug you and tell you it would all be okay in the end and that you should never forget you were special.

As opposed to the sort of older brother I actually had, who would steal your lunch money and threaten to smash your favourite toys if you told Mom and Dad, laugh when people at school called you names, and sleep with your best friend on prom night, then ditch her the day after for being "too clingy".

Fortunately, that was in the past, and I didn't ever have to talk to Richard beside the obligatory politeness at Thanksgiving and Christmas unless I chose to. I settled down beside Jack, flopping out on the grass and staring at the stars. I so rarely got to see them these days. Living in London meant that they tended to be drowned behind the street lighting, but here they were pin-sharp.

"Mmm? SiSi?"

"What? Oh, yeah." I turned my head and smiled at him. He smiled back, his light brown eyes soft and gentle. "Yeah, Jack. I'm okay. I have you guys."

He reached out and gently rubbed my cheek with the back of his hand, then let it drop back down onto his belly. "Good. That's really good. You deserve that, SiSi. All of us… we care about you, you know?"

"I care about you too." I stared peacefully at the stars some more. "I guess I should think about making a move if I'm going to catch up with the others… Drew's probably wondering what happened to me."

Jack frowned. "Oh no, he won't be."

"Huh?"

"He didn't go with them, didn't you hear him saying? When they left he was going to show Brian where the festival's gay scene is."

Brian was the other gay guy in Tanya's dojo, I remembered. Both he and Drew were out, although in Brian's case a lot more discreetly than Drew (not difficult). I felt suddenly and unexpectedly disappointed. "There's a gay scene at the festival?" I asked, trying to cover my feelings.

"Oh aye." He snorted. "And if there wasn't, Drew would probably start one."

"I thought he was going to go with the others, go listen to Mark's friend's band…" …with me.

Jack smiled a little bit wryly. "Well, SiSi… I think we all sometimes forget that, well, Drew's Drew. He's gay and we're not. Sometimes he wants to be with other people like him, be himself for a bit." He snorted with laughter. "Chase a few young men, get in a quick one round the back of the bar, knowing him."

"Yeah." I was surprised how much it hurt to be reminded that there was a whole area of Drew's life to which I was definitely not invited.

Jack and I stared at the stars some more. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, feeling the earth beneath my back, the faint warmth of Jack beside me, the faint smell of male body… It was not an unpleasant scent. Tanni's so lucky, I thought, opening my eyes a crack and smiling to see Jack peacefully watching the stars, his ribs gently rising and falling.

Jack was the sort of man you hoped you'd find, but secretly feared would already be taken. He was only a few years older than me, but radiated the content happiness of a man who had not only achieved everything he wanted in life, but was also old enough and wise enough to realise just how lucky he was to have it. "I'm so fucking lucky to have Jack," Tanya had once told me, and I'd had to agree. He might not be the handsomest man I'd ever met, or the tallest, but he was once of the best.

Not to mention that, according to Tanni, he's pretty good in the sack, too. I stifled the thought as unworthy, but it was a little hard not to remember it when Jack was sprawled in the grass beside me wearing only a thin white cotton t-shirt with his glasses tucked into the neck, a pair of faded denim shorts, and sandals. I could see the outlines of his body through the thin cloth. Tanya had once confided in me was that one of the things she liked most about Jack was that he was "just perfect, SiSi, he's gorgeous, everything's in proportion…" and she was right from what I could see.

He was one of the few men I'd met who was about the same size I was, which was probably what made him appear small and slight, but, closer to, you could see that he was broader through the shoulders than Drew. He wasn't muscular, nothing like Tanya, but he was healthy, neither fat nor skinny, and his arms and shoulders were strong from riding around on his bike. His hands were strong too, quite broad and powerful-looking, and his face was nice to look at. Like Drew, he wasn't classically handsome, but his intelligence and good nature showed in his quick expressions and warm smile.

What would it be like? I thought. It's just a thought, after all. What would it be like, being with someone my size? Tanya had already told me, before I stopped her going into detail, that Jack was "sweet… really sweet and thoughtful… but he can be a little tiger, too, sometimes when he gets going it's just like being…"

I'd stopped her there, since Jack was her husband and I had to look him in the face on a regular basis, but right now I couldn't help wondering what she'd been going to say. It was normally hard to picture Jack, usually the sensible one of the four of us (and about the only person who could persuade Drew out of his crazier ideas), being wild in bed, but seeing him now, all rumpled hair and rucked-up clothing, the inch's gap between his shorts and T-shirt showing a flat pale stomach with a thin line of dark brown hair running down it, it wasn't so hard to picture.

"You okay there, SiSi?"

"Jack! That's at least the third time you asked!" I pretended to be offended, pulling a mock-outraged face. He giggled.

"Sorry… whoa. I'm not used to this any more. I'm getting old."

"Yeah, me too. I swear I'm getting a bad neck."

"Here." Jack hauled himself from fully- to semi- supine, reached across and rubbed it lightly. "You spend way too much time on computers and sitting at a desk, it's not good for you."

"Oh Jack, I never knew you cared."

He snorted and lay down again. "Yes you do." He fell silent, contemplating the stars again. I flopped back down beside him, realising I was a little bit closer than last time when I felt his bare arm against mine. I reached over and patted his arm. He smiled and gently covered my hand with his.

I turned my head and noticed that his face really wasn't so far from mine. Only a few inches. What did Jack kiss like, I wondered? I'd seen him and Tanya kiss any number of times in public, but I'd only once seen them kiss for real, a stolen glimpse of the two of them making out outside a bar when Drew and I had gone off to find some food and a cab ride home. I shivered a bit, feeling a peculiar mixture of discomfort and fascination at the memory of Jack's mouth fastening on Tanya's. Everyone assumed that Tanya was the dominant partner, that Jack did whatever she said, but from what I remembered, Jack had been pretty damn enthusiastic, one of his hands at the back of her neck, the other on her back, pulling her close to him… That would feel pretty good…

"Hey, guys."

For once in my life I was glad that I was sufficiently drunk (and possibly mildly stoned from pot fumes) that my reactions were dulled, since otherwise I would probably have leapt about three feet up in the air at the sound of Tanya's voice.

"Oh, hey, Tanni!" Jack sat bolt upright, smiling hugely, my hand falling off his arm with a quickness. "Where were you?"

"I stopped by the bar to get a drink for my favourite husband." She dropped down onto the grass beside him, and held out what looked like a small cup of whisky. Jack took it and sipped eagerly, then leaned over and kissed her mouth delicately. Tanya's tongue flicked out over her lips, tasting the liquid.

"Thank you, though I am also your only husband, unless you've got another one I don't know about." Jack pouted, and she laughed and cupped his cheek. "Oh no, sweetheart, you know you're the only one for me…" She leaned in and kissed him again with enthusiasm. Jack dropped the cup and wrapped an arm around her, leaning into her body and pressing up against her, dropping one of his legs over hers and hooking her legs against his. I could swear one of his hands was cupping one of her breasts, although maybe that was just my imagination since I couldn't exactly see.

Ooo-kay. "Uh, guys, get a room?" I said in what I hoped was a just-kidding voice, not a could you maybe not make out in front of me? voice.

Tanya detached herself from Jack long enough to leer at me over his shoulder. "Don't know about that, but we might find a few trees or something like that…"

I took the hint. "Okay, I'll, uh, go join Mark and everyone and see you guys later…"

"Yeah, SiSi, you do that…" she mumbled, then fastened her mouth back on Jack's with a finality that dismissed me completely. I picked up my cup, drained the remaining dregs of wine, then trudged off in a vile mood. How rude was that?

How often do you think that Tanni and Jack wish they didn't have you and Drew always tagging along? They are husband and wife, and maybe sometimes they really wish you'd get your own life and give them some of their free time back to spend together.

I paused briefly, and frowned. Yeah. Well. There was that. Maybe I should be grateful for Tanya not actually telling me to piss off…

Maybe you should be grateful that she didn't spot that you were thinking of MAKING A PLAY for HER HUSBAND.

And that thought was enough to stop me in my tracks.

Oh shit.

I wouldn't have, would I? I was sure I wouldn't have, that I'd have stopped myself.

Oh fuck, I hoped so. What if I hadn't? Oh Christ. The best-case scenario was that I'd have made a pass, Jack would have gracefully turned me down, and acted awkwardly around me ever after.

The worst-case scenario was that I'd have made a pass, Jack would have turned me down, and he'd have told Tanya, who would have killed me, and I'd have lost my three best friends, since I doubted Drew would have stuck around if I'd tried to wreck his best friends' marriage.

No, scratch that. The worst-case scenario was that I'd have made a pass, Jack, being mildly stoned, mildly drunk, and male, would have responded, and that the two of us would have had to live with what we'd done for the rest of our lives, probably permanently screwing up his marriage and my chances of thinking of myself as a decent human being again.

No, scratch that. The absolute, absolute worst-case scenario was that I'd have made a pass, Jack would have responded, and Tanya would have caught us both when she returned from the bar. In which case, we'd both have been dead.

Oh, Jesus. What was wrong with me?

What do I do now? I thought despondently.

I want to go home.

I screwed up my eyes as the thought hit. I really, really wanted to be just about anywhere else right now, anywhere other than a field miles away from anywhere, surrounded by people I didn't know, with all my friends off having fun without me.

Yeah, but where is my home? Where indeed? The crappy apartment in London I barely spent time in, other than to sleep? My parents' house? Maybe. I loved my parents dearly, but going home meant encountering Richard and his second wife, both of whom I intensely disliked. Besides, there was nothing for me there, not any more. If I wasn't going to join the rest of the family in the oil trade, I had no business going home. The apartment I'd once shared with my beloved Bobby? Not any more, not ever again.

The closest I had to home was Jack and Tanya's house, and right now they didn't want to see me.

You should go out. Go join Mark and the others.

I knew I should, but I couldn't face having to trek halfway across the site, find somewhere I'd never been before, find Mark and the others, and pretend to be sociable when it was absolutely the last thing on Earth I wanted to do.

I sent a text message to the guys to let them know I wasn't coming, making up an excuse about not feeling too great and going to bed, then started to trudge off back to the campsite in that particularly unpleasant state of mind known as "all of my friends are getting laid and having fun and I'm not".

I could get laid, I thought morosely. I could go out into the Festival right now, maybe change my head and head back to Mark and the guys and go party, pull a random stranger and have sex in a tent. I could do that every night of the Festival if I wanted, and maybe when I was younger I would have done.

Yeah, but more because you felt like you ought to do that, than because you actually wanted to. And right now, I really didn't want to sleep with someone I didn't care about, and in any case, in my current state of my mind I was unlikely to achieve the mellow anything-goes-damn-I'm-horny-you'll-do state of mind necessary to actually get aroused enough to have sex with someone I didn't know.

I trudged back to the campsite, found the bar volunteers' campsite bar, and medicated all my problems with a triple vodka. On top of the wine, that did the trick. I staggered off, found a toilet, pissed, then staggered back to my tent and didn't so much fall asleep as pass out.