Chapter 33
Eventually, after plenty of dancing, I need a break.
The heat in the tent has reached stifling levels and I’m definitely feeling the effects.
Even the tops of Elliot’s cheekbones have flushed a light pink – I dread to think how horribly red I must be.
If there are any mirrors in this tent I will have to simply smash them.
I follow Elliot as he gestures towards the bar, the image of Ham somehow spinning five girls around at once imprinted in my mind. The others are still heavily invested in the music and dancing and show no signs of stopping, leaving us alone once again.
He huffs a breath as he leans back against the bar, regarding me.
‘You were right.’
‘Sure.’ I pause. ‘About what, this time?’
‘The serotonin,’ he says. ‘What drink do you want? You should try the Vincent if you have a craving for adrenaline.’
I shoot him a look. ‘Who’s trying to kill who now?’
He shrugs, his lips twitching.
‘Pass,’ I reply. ‘I’ll have a Cameron again. Thanks.’
‘I’ll join you. I still can’t really feel my mouth.’
Not long after, we leave the bar with our drinks and Elliot gestures to the parting in the tent’s canvas. I nod gratefully in response, desperate for some fresh air.
Outside, there’s a small, undecorated garden with a few logs to sit on, surrounded by greenery and thick bushes.
As they’re all taken, I amble over to the trunk of a huge oak tree and fling myself onto the ground in front of it.
Elliot follows suit and sits down with much more grace.
Without a word, he holds his cup out to mine and I clink my drink against it.
I take a slow sip, grateful for the feel of the ice against my lips. As I sigh and lean my head back against the tree, I feel Elliot’s eyes catch on me.
‘You still thinking about the clue?’ he asks.
With everything that’s happened over the last forty-eight hours, my mind is still scrambling to get a firm grasp on a single event that has happened. The image of Elliot’s mouth on mine flashes in my mind again, much louder than all the other memories.
‘Yeah,’ I say reluctantly. ‘I suppose.’
‘I’m sorry that we got so close to winning.’
‘We haven’t lost yet,’ I say haughtily, cutting him a glance.
He looks suitably rebuked. ‘No. You’re right. But speaking of Queen Ego…’ He nods at my backpack, our drumstick’s temporary home, with a somber expression. ‘Time’s running out, and we’ve yet to figure out who’s keeping that.’
I let my body slump forward. ‘How do we even figure that out now? We’re both still here after nearly two days. How do we even decide at this point?’
He smiles sadly and shakes his head. ‘I don’t know.’
The reality of our impending decision and Elliot’s departure weighs heavily on me. I take him in before forcing my gaze away, ignoring the twinge in my chest at the idea that soon we’ll be separated for good.
Finding no way to respond, I take a greedy slurp of my drink.
An unexpected burst of heat blooms at the back of my throat as I swallow, leading me to splutter and cough until dregs of the drink are spilling out my mouth.
Elliot is immediately beside himself, leaning forward with a loud, guttural laugh.
I turn away from him and wheeze with cackles as the coughs keep coming.
He laughs harder, trying to crawl towards me to actually check if I’m alright.
I wave my arm at him before finally croaking, ‘Fuck off.’
He falls into a renewed fit of laughter, feeding into my own as we both cough and convulse with giggles. I desperately try to not think about how heinous I must look in this moment.
‘I’m glad this is so entertaining,’ I wheeze with watery eyes, furiously wiping at my face.
‘Sorry,’ he relents, his laughter slowing. He gets to his feet and moments later returns with a few paper towels. I scowl.
‘About time,’ I snap, my voice still hoarse.
‘Sorry,’ he repeats, before breaking into another beautiful grin. ‘Are you alright?’ His voice wobbles with mirth.
‘No, I nearly just died,’ I moan, wiping at my eyes again.
‘Okay, hang on,’ he says, getting up again and walking towards the tent.
I heave a couple of loud coughs to relieve the hot tickle still in my throat while he’s gone, then rest my head against the back of the tree.
Two men are in the midst of a quiet conversation next to me, their heads close together.
Over the sounds of the band still playing in Martha Jane’s, I catch glimpses of their conversation.
Words like set up, backstage, mic. My eyes flick down to their wristbands to see the word CREW adorned in metallic green, rather than the typical purple wristbands reading FIRECREST.
One of the men speaking, with greying curly hair tied up in a bun, suddenly turns his gaze to me before talking again in a lower voice. I turn away guiltily when Elliot returns with a glass of water for me. I gulp it down, relishing the feeling of the water racing down my throat.
‘Thank you,’ I say with a groan of relief.
I shoot another glance over my shoulder to the two men next to us before trying to give Elliot a meaningful look. He freezes, his eyes searching my face.
I try again, widening my eyes at him and flicking my gaze back to the men before whispering, ‘They’re crew.’
He frowns and remains still. ‘What?’ he hisses.
I twitch my head one more time aggressively towards the men. ‘Crew. They’re crew.’
He shakes his head, nonplussed. ‘Okay?’
I huff with impatience. ‘They might know how to get into Ransom,’ I breathe.
‘Oh,’ he says, looking at the men properly. ‘I mean… maybe.’
‘It’s worth a try.’
‘Sure,’ he shrugs. ‘Knock yourself out, princess.’
‘Come on,’ I say, getting to my feet. ‘We’re a team, champ, we go together.’
He sighs. I motion my hands upwards before offering a hand for him to stand up. He takes it to launch himself to his feet and we make our way over to the crewmen.
‘Hi,’ I blurt at them before I can change my mind.
They stop speaking and turn to look at me, their eyebrows pulled downwards under their black caps.
‘Um, I’m so sorry to bother you. I don’t know if you’re the people to ask, or if I even should ask – but I don’t suppose, as crew, you know how exactly we might get into Ransom? ’
The men exchange a look.
‘It’s just – it’s really important we get in,’ I say, wringing my hands together. Elliot is silent next to me with his arms crossed. I give him a light jab with my elbow. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, uh – yes, it is,’ Elliot confirms with a nod, before shooting me a look of annoyance.
‘We, um…’ one of the men start. ‘We just work in The Warren; that’s not really our area.’
The other rolls his eyes at him. ‘Johnny, I’m sure it’s fine. There’s only two of them and apparently it’s deserted this year. Try not to spread it round too much, but when you knock on the door and they need a password, you just have to tell them your favourite dessert.’
I blink at him, wondering if he’s joking.
‘They only let in a batch of people once an hour, on the hour,’ he adds.
‘Wait, so your – your favourite dessert?’ I repeat dumbly.
‘Yep. It changes every year. This year is desserts,’ he says with a shrug.
While this does not fundamentally make any sense, I decide to take it and run with it. It’s all I have.
‘Right. Thank you. Thank you!’ I successfully resist leaping on him to give him a grateful hug, then grab Elliot’s hand to pivot away and drag him back inside the tent.
I find Hennie red in the face screaming at the top of her lungs near the front of the stage and just manage to shout over her, ‘Red alert!’
‘What? What is it?’ She blinks at us both as if she’s broken from a trance.
‘I think we found out how to get into Ransom,’ I tell her, stumbling over my own words in the rush to get them out. ‘We can still make it.’
Her eyes bulge before they briefly drop down to my hand. Which happens to still be entwined with Elliot’s. When did that happen??
‘Oh, sorry.’ I let go, avoiding his eyes. ‘I think I’m used to the drumstick being there, like a habit sort of thing.’
What? What am I saying??
Hennie’s eyes flick to Elliot, but she just nods. ‘Shit, well let’s go!’
She turns to look for Owen and Josh to regale the news, but there’s no sign of them in the crowd.
‘Boys!’ she screams.
Two heads pop up above the rest of the crowd, shiny with sweat and adorned with wide smiles.
‘Get over here!’
Josh’s reaction to the news that we could potentially get into Ransom does not disappoint. After screaming with glee, he proceeds to wrap his arms around me and swing me around with dizzying speed.
I wheeze some words out like please and oh God and I’m going to die between my laughs, tapping him desperately to stop. He eventually does, but he certainly does not calm.
‘It is a miraculous, jubilant day!’ Josh cheers, slapping Owen on the shoulder. ‘I knew we’d get in there one day. Maybe I’ll start practicing gratitude after this.’
‘Let’s see if we actually do get in first,’ Elliot warns. ‘Nothing is guaranteed.’
‘Oh, we are,’ Josh says, putting his face very close to Elliot’s. ‘It’s our day.’
Elliot frowns in response. ‘Okay,’ he says, his voice slightly fearful.
‘It makes sense with the clue,’ I add. ‘They let people in every hour on the hour, so I guess we just have to make sure we get in at five.’
‘What time is it?’ Hennie asks, her eyes frantic.
Elliot holds up his phone screen. Her mouth falls open in horror.
The time reads 4.49.
‘Eleven minutes?’ I say in disbelief. We all look at each other for a moment.
‘It’s do-able,’ Josh says quickly, eyeing Owen.
‘Do-able,’ he agrees.
After a beat, Josh is suddenly galloping towards the fireplace with Owen on his heels.
‘Come on, slackers!’ Josh croons as he throws his body into the fireplace, jolting me into action.
I pivot on my heel and run after them, Hennie close behind me as I follow Owen into the mouth of the fireplace.
A squeal from Josh erupts from within, it sounds like he may have slipped over on his way out.
I emit a squeak of my own as Hennie pats my behind.
‘Come on, Hartley! Go go go!’
‘Hands off, perv,’ I shout back to her, shimmying through as quickly as I can behind Owen.
Martha Jane’s cosy cafe interior comes back into view and I get to my feet, running behind Owen and Josh as they stumble their way around tables and crowds of people.
I hear a yelp and a crash from behind me, followed by a very frantic, ‘Oh God, sorry, I’m so sorry–’ from Elliot and a loud bark of laughter immediately after from Hennie.
Heads spin in our direction. I shoot a few nervous and apologetic smiles as I pivot around a large group at the exit of the cafe, and emerge back into the glow of the warm, low sun.