Seeing the avatars of people I’d never met but who clearly loved Zac was … what was it? Heartwarming. My heart was warm. Just the fact those people existed, that he had a crew.

* * *

Meredith had come and gone, and even now, Wednesday evening, I was in pain.

‘Come on, now, sleep time,’ Sarah said. She was kneeling on the kids’ floor. I watched on from the door, scratching my stubble. Oliver sat up, threw his body back, sat up again, swung his legs from the bed.

‘We’re not sleepy,’ Sophie said, kicking at her covers, smiling at Oliver.

‘Don’t be cheeky,’ I said. ‘Come on, both of you. It’s late.’ Ha. My tone was … It wasn’t very loving.

‘What time’s it?’ Oliver said.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘It’s late.’

‘Is it fourteen o’clock?’ Sophie said.

‘That’s not a time, you idiot,’ Oliver said.

‘Hey, come on,’ Sarah said. ‘Just breathe. The breezes at dawn have –’

‘We always breathe,’ said –

‘Settle down,’ I said. ‘Both of you. You’re driving me crazy.’

The comedown – it would pass. But when? It had been days already.

We’d arrived at the festival campsite in Biddy’s mum’s car with a bag of MDMA, another of grass, another of acid, two slabs of beer, three bottles of vodka, a couple of apples. We’d pegged the tent, had sex for hours, Biddy’s newly fluorescent hair pooling on the inflatable mattress.

‘I need a poo,’ Oliver said.

‘You’re joking, right?’ Sarah said.

‘No, it’s coming out,’ Oliver said, holding his pyjama pants. ‘I can feel it.’

‘Come on, then,’ I said. ‘Let’s go, mate. Hurry up.’

Sarah shot me a look, frowned. ‘Why don’t you go through to the bedroom, hun?’

‘Yeah, fine.’ I started walking off, returned. ‘Do you want to give me your phone in case Zac calls?’

She gave it, I took it, my first access since the weekend.

‘Run, Olly,’ I said.

He waddled at speed, Sarah rushing after him. I winked at Sophie, made a bee-line for the bedroom, lay belly-down on the bed.

From Dave on Messenger: Really nice to see you on Saturday/ Sunday … Wow. Been thinking about that dance in your bedroom (and your other talents!!) A LOT. More soon?

Sarah: If you’re lucky X

Kudos.

Oliver, from the bathroom. ‘It’s stuck, Mamma. It’s not coming out.’

Sarah, from the kitchen. ‘Don’t force it, darling, just relax, remember to calm your breathing.’

I’d nearly pissed myself on Saturday night at Meredith.

We’d taken acid at six, smoked someone’s DMT at seven, crawled back into the tent around eight to get dressed up for the evening. Where was everything? Was this even our tent?

On our knees, searching with the phone torches – a clear sky outside, falling temperatures …

‘You’re not cold?’ I said, jittering.