Chapter Twenty-Six
‘I feel like Freddie Mercury,’ said Jonno, as the chauffeur-driven minibus pulled up to the pedestrian entrance gate closest to the Pyramid Stage.
The helicopter flight had taken barely ten minutes, and Lucy had to admit that seeing the size and scale of the festival from the sky had been pretty breathtaking.
Kristoff had held her hand the whole way, and provided a live commentary of the whole journey for his TikTok.
Lucy had resisted the urge to ask him not to feature her, on the basis she didn’t want to seem ungrateful.
She’d been in Kristoff’s videos before, of course – first as a girlfriend soft launch back in April, when he’d occasionally featured her hand on a table or the back of her head.
When the speculation from his fans had reached fever pitch, he’d shared a video of them walking through blossom-laden cherry trees in Central Park, and they were officially a couple.
The disappointment from his fans that she wasn’t anyone remotely noteworthy or famous had been palpable, but she’d learned that nothing good ever came from reading the comments.
‘Where are we going now?’ asked Jonno, looking as excited as Lucy. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘That wristband is VIP hospitality,’ said Kristoff. ‘It means you can hang out backstage. There’s no need to go out front.’
‘Why wouldn’t we want to go out front?’ laughed Lucy. ‘Out front is where the festival happens.’
Kristoff shrugged. ‘Most of the people here haven’t washed in three days. The backstage area has some lovely bars and hangout areas. And proper bathrooms.’
‘Right,’ said Lucy, pressing her lips together. Kristoff has arranged all this, she reminded herself. It’s your birthday present. Don’t get annoyed.
‘Titan has a private cabana with hammocks and a champagne bar,’ said Kristoff. ‘Between the Pyramid Stage and the Other Stage. You can watch the TV feed from there. That’s where I hung out all day yesterday, it was really cool.’
‘No,’ said Lucy, shaking her head emphatically and trying to keep her voice even.
‘I don’t care if people haven’t washed; I’ll breathe through my mouth.
I don’t want to come to Glastonbury and drink champagne in a hammock.
I want to actually go to the festival.’ She looked at Jonno, who shrugged helplessly.
‘I’ve been here loads of times,’ he said. ‘But never backstage. I kind of want the VIP experience, mate. Sorry. We’ll definitely go over to Woodsies to see Nate at six, though.’
‘I’ve never been here,’ said Sasha, looking slightly overawed by the heat and the noise and the sea of people as far as the eye could see. ‘And the only way I’m staying for the day is if I don’t have to mix with the great unwashed. Although I’ll watch Nate, obviously.’
Obviously, thought Lucy, feeling increasingly tetchy. ‘What time are we leaving?’ she asked Kristoff.
‘Andy’s picking us up from here at ten,’ he said. ‘It’s too late to helicopter out, so we’ll be in the car, I’m afraid.’
‘I’m sure we’ll cope,’ said Lucy waspishly.
‘I’ll meet you back here at ten.’ She turned on her heel and plunged into the crowd, muttering ‘Fucksake’ and ‘Unbelievable’ under her breath.
Kristoff didn’t follow her, but even if he’d been fast enough to keep up in this sea of moving bodies, it wasn’t really his style.
He’d feel a moment of uncertainty that Lucy was upset, then remember she was her own woman and head for whatever fully catered VIP experience he’d paid tens of thousands of pounds for.
She imagined Leo giving her a heavenly round of applause, and looked for the nearest place that would sell her a pint of cider in a reusable cup.
The rest of the afternoon was one that Lucy was pretty sure she would remember as one of the best days of her life.
She danced along to Rick Astley on the Pyramid Stage, then ate an amazing vegan curry as she meandered over to the Other Stage for Tom Grennan.
It was impossible to watch two male singer/songwriters without wondering what the future held for Nate, and whether one day he’d be playing to a crowd of tens of thousands, all screaming his name.
What’s the deal with him and Sasha? wondered Lucy, itching at the thought of him seeing someone else.
Probably a fellow musician, or some supermodel socialite.
But then she reminded herself that she was dating a millionaire condom entrepreneur, so she was hardly in a position to judge.
By the time Tom Grennan’s set was finished, it was gone three o’clock and Lucy was keen to see Nate, even if it was just from a distance.
She slowly made her way towards Woodsies, stopping for an hour or so in the dance area at Silver Hayes to drink some more cider and do some mad dancing in Leo’s honour.
It was much bigger than it had been in 2007, but it still had the same high-octane buzz that they’d fallen in love with that weekend.
She purposely avoided the interstage VIP hospitality area, knowing she was being petty but not wanting to feel an obligation to hang out in Kristoff’s cabana with his celebrity friends.
It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny with a light breeze, with the kind of summer-festival vibe she and Leo had imagined and hoped for all those years ago, but never experienced.
Even though he wasn’t there, Leo was such a huge part of her memories of this place, and she didn’t feel alone.
How could you, in a crowd of two hundred thousand people singing and smiling and dancing and being generally off their head?
She made it to the Woodsies circus tent just after 5.
30 p.m., but it was unexpectedly packed to overflowing with Nate Lambert fans, and there was no hope of her getting inside.
She acknowledged to herself how much she wanted to see him perform, swallowing her pride with a silent apology to Leo as she walked round to the back of the tent where there was a gate for backstage access.
She showed the security guard her wristband and was waved straight through.
It was busy back here too, and not very glamorous, but this was a satellite stage that wasn’t for the headline acts, and the backstage area of the Pyramid Stage was probably a whole other world.
There were trucks and cables and caravans and little in-between areas with deckchairs or benches where people could hang out in the sunshine.
She bought a falafel wrap and another pint of cider and mooched around for a while longer, wondering if Jonno and Kristoff and Sasha were somewhere nearby.
Sasha had implied earlier that she and Nate were no longer seeing each other, but that things weren’t bad between them, but Lucy had never really known how intense their romance was in the first place.
It was ten minutes until Nate’s set was due to start, which meant he was probably in one of the caravans.
She glanced at the closed door of the nearest one, half-expecting him to pop out.
‘Hey,’ said Jonno, appearing through a flap in the back of the striped tent. ‘I’ve been calling you.’
‘I turned my phone off,’ said Lucy. ‘There are a million more interesting things to look at.’
‘Very wise,’ said Jonno. ‘I think Kristoff is worried he’s pissed you off.’
‘I’m absolutely fine,’ said Lucy. ‘I’ve had a lovely day. How was VIP backstage?’
‘Ridiculous,’ he replied, swaying a little on his feet.
‘Are you pissed, or high, or both?’ laughed Lucy.
‘Pissed. I’ve drunk a great deal of breathtakingly expensive champagne, paid for by your insanely rich boyfriend. But he doesn’t do drugs of any kind. Did you know that?’
‘I did,’ said Lucy. ‘He lost a friend to an overdose while he was at college.’
‘Shit,’ said Jonno. ‘I assumed all millionaires were coke fiends.’
‘Hoped, more like.’ Lucy rolled her eyes.
Like pretty much everyone who worked in advertising, Jonno enjoyed the occasional line if someone else was offering it.
Lucy had never gone there – Leo had been a big fan, and somehow she’d always connected any kind of party drugs with his mental health issues, even though he’d been clean when he’d died.
‘AND I had the least disgusting poo I’ve ever had at Glastonbury.’
‘I’m happy for you,’ said Lucy. ‘Seen any celebs?’
‘I think I saw Kate Moss hanging out by the Other Stage, but it was hard to tell from the back.’
‘Goodness, that’s one to tell the grandchildren,’ said Lucy with a smirk.
‘You want to watch Nate?’ said Jonno, gesturing to the flap in the tent where he’d just come from. ‘Kristoff and Sasha are at the side of the stage, she got us all permission. We could join them?’
‘Did Kristoff send you to find me?’ asked Lucy, narrowing her eyes.
‘Not exactly,’ said Jonno, shuffling awkwardly. ‘I volunteered to come out and see if you were here, but didn’t really expect to spot you. Come on; it’s the only way you’re going to get a view.’
‘Fine,’ said Lucy, figuring she should throw Kristoff a bone since he’d organised the tickets for today, and she really did want to see Nate perform.
She followed Jonno through the flap and up some metal stairs to the side of the stage, flashing their wristbands at another security guard who nodded them through and told them to be careful of all the cables.
Lucy gasped as the announcer boomed, ‘Please welcome to the Woodsies stage . . . NATE LAMBERT.’ The crowd roared, and goosebumps broke out all over Lucy’s arms. She could see Nate, all alone at the front of stage with just his guitar.
Behind him was his band – a woman on keyboards, two guitarists, and a guy on drums. Having previously only seen him perform live in the Guntherhütte, it was mind-boggling to see.
‘Hello, Glastonbury,’ breathed Nate. ‘I can’t quite believe I’m here.’ He glanced to the left as the crowd roared, and Lucy craned her neck to see Sasha, hidden just behind the wings at the front of the stage. She beamed at him and gave him a double thumbs up.