She gathered her dignity, what was left of it, and held her head high, walking briskly through the village and up towards her house. When she got back she gave her dignity a massive slap round the chops and threw her keys on the counter top. They’d probably leave a lovely dent.

She caught sight of herself in the polished steel of the cooker. So that’s why they called them ‘eye-level ovens’. She wished she hadn’t cleaned it so well because in the mirror-like surface, she could see every shameful detail. Her mascara had smudged, in fact it now looked like two spiders had done a painting under each eye. What a day. She’d poured out her heart about Fraser and Hannah. She’d made a pass at a much younger man who was in a relationship and who’d tried to let her down gently because he was a lovely guy. She felt needy and a hopeless mess. Well, she had to pull herself together.

She would henceforth return to her previous status: not getting involved with anyone, however charming, sympathetic or sexy. She’d reached rock bottom and rebuilding her relationship with Hannah and the festival were the only things she would focus on from now on. Before then, deep joy, she had her ‘special’ birthday coming up, but even that was soured by the fact that her friends had no idea quite how ‘special’ it was.

Chapter Nineteen

Porthmellow Festival Facebook page

Faye P: is the festival programme out yet? When’s Gabe Mathias going live?

Joe Bloggs: Never I hope. Sick of this bloody festival. The people running it are only out to line their own pockets. Bet bloody Gabe Mathias is making a fortune out of it

Faye P: Shut up, hater!!!!!

Sam swore softly after seeing the latest comments on the festival Facebook page. She’d been taking a quick look at the social media while she waited for the kettle to boil at the Institute and now she wished she hadn’t. With just three weeks to go to the festival, most of the comments were positive and excited, asking about the bands and when Gabe would be in the Chef’s Theatre, but there were always a few moaners. Bryony was obviously one of the Twitter brigade but ‘Joe Bloggs’ could have been anyone, including Bryony. Sam had grown a thick skin over the years but the implication she was out to make money and the slur against Gabe got her back up.

Troy appeared in the doorway with his arm in a sling. Hastily shoving her phone in her pocket, Sam broke into a broad smile. It was great to see him back.

‘Evening, my maid.’

‘How are you?’ she asked, seeing how gingerly he moved around.