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She’d go back to the cottage, shower, change, grab her ticket and program, then get ready to listen to the bands and talk to music lovers in the crowd. She’d come over here to Glastonbury to work and she needed to get started.

Twisting around, she tried to get her bearings. She was sure she’d come across that field to the east but it was full of tents she hadn’t noticed earlier.

“You look hungry, love. Want some soup?”

A young woman standing behind a wooden table in the tent behind her waved a large spoon in her direction.

“Sorry.” She shook her head. “I haven’t got my wallet with me.”

The woman leaned forward, her long braids dangling over her shoulders down to her waist. She held on to a small child with one hand and pointed to a sign at the front of the table with the other. Free was emblazoned in large block letters.

“Love food here, free for all comers.”

“Free?” Megan sniffed appreciatively and looked over to the large pot bubbling on a gas ring at the back of the open-sided tent.

“Soup, mulled wine…and hash cookies. All in the name of peace and love.” The woman picked the child up and hoisted him onto her hip. “You give to the universe, you get back. Want some?”

Megan nodded and watched as the woman balanced the child on her hip while she ladled steaming vegetables and broth into a paper mug for her. “Do you do this at many festivals?”

“We came to the first festival last year, but because the villagers were so against us ‘hippies’ going to the cafés in the village, we decided to help out this year.”

Megan narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean the first one?”

“The first Glastonbury. Last year at the Worthy Farm they gave free milk, so we wanted to do our bit this year. Give and the universe gives back to you.”

“Last year?” She had no idea what the woman was talking about. She’d studied the Glastonbury phenomenon and it had run every year since 1978 after the first couple of festivals in 1970 and 1971. Since then it had been big business.

But this festival was nowhere like the commercial one she’d expected. A shiver ran down Megan’s back as a strange thought entered her mind. She rubbed her arms to dispel the goose bumps.

It’s almost as though I’m at one of the early festivals. It’s like a re-creation.

Megan looked down at her bare feet. “Can you point me in the direction of the village?” On the way back to the cottage, she’d call in at the little store and buy a pair of flip-flops and put them on the tab. And while she was there, she’d see if the library had Wi-Fi. She hadn’t thought of that the other day—and she had a feeling David had only taken her to Taunton as part of the get-to-know-me-I’m-a-nice-guy routine so he could get in her pants. Well, he had, but no more.

The woman stepped out from behind the table and led Megan to the other side of the wide pathway between the tents. “If you follow this path to the end of the big tents and then go through the stile, you’ll come to the road that goes to the village.”

Megan thanked the woman and headed down past the tents, sipping on the soup as she strolled through the crowd. The morning sun was warm and there were people lying on the grass sunbathing. A few called out a friendly greeting as she walked past and her fingers itched to start taking notes. The opportunity for research was amazing and everyone was happy and relaxed. She couldn’t believe the number of women with no tops on, breasts bared to the sun. A couple of the guys she passed had nothing on at all, and their white English skin was starting to burn. It was surreal; the seventies feel was all around her. Maybe it was just that England was old-fashioned and different from Australia? She shook her head as that frisson of uncertainty ran down her spine again. Music blared across the fields from the performance tents but she didn’t recognise any of the bands or songs. She kept her eyes peeled for David and his mates but there was no sign of any of them.

She threw the paper cup into a bin next to the stile and climbed through. As the woman had said there would be, a path led from the stile to a narrow road where a sign on the grass pointed the way to Glastonbury.

With a yawn, Megan set off for the village, keeping to the grass beneath the hedgerows to protect her bare feet.

Chapter Fifteen

“Davy? You’re back.” The woman opened the door wide and smiled until she looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Hello, Alice.” David’s breath hitched. He’d run the whole way across the field to the cottages, giving the stones a wide berth. “I’ve lost someone.”

Alice McLaren wiped her hands on a bright floral apron and held her arms out to him. “I’m surprised to see you. I thought you’d be immersed in the festival.”

David reached over and hugged her. Alice had grown her hair since he’d last seen her and she kept hold of his hands and looked at him. “Still looking good, Davy.” She tipped her head to the side. “You don’t change?”

“I know. I don’t understand it myself.” All he knew was, he stayed the same age whichever time he was in. “You’ve had no unexpected visitors this morning?”

“No. I haven’t seen anyone. What’s happened?”

David ran his fingers through his hair as he stood at the door. This was doing his head in.

“I’ve lost someone… a friend…a woman. It’s a long story and if I don’t find her, she won’t be able to find her way back.” He took another deep breath.