The Ned Wood Archive

Ellie

She wasn’t in the mood for it.  Walking round the markets.  Not really.  It wasn’t the same as Thursday.  That day she’d felt thrilled.  The anticipation of the festival plus, was it hope or something stronger? after bumping into Joe with the ska band.  And it def wasn’t the same as Friday when she went round the markets again with Joe.  Then she’d felt the steady rise of the connection they were building.  The growing awareness that something was developing between them.  Yeah.  No.  She’d got that wrong, hadn’t she.  So this time, lunchtime on the Saturday, out in the markets with the others, watching them trying on various glitter skirts and fancy vests and the like, that wasn’t really fun.   And she was getting pretty hot while they were at it.   

Ellie was thinking of other things.  She’d happened to mention to Phoebe that Bastille had played up at Strummerville one time.  She started talking about how much they were looking forward to the big show, well one of the big shows, on Sunday.  She repeated some of what Joe had said about when they first played Glastonbury, even though she wasn’t totally sure she believed that part.  What it was, though, was that Ellie wanted to go up to Strummerville.  Somewhere new.  Somewhere without the immediate memories.  At the same time, somewhere associated with Joe.  Not that she could explain that even to herself.  Anyway, Phoebe & Abi & Lauren decided they should all check out Strummerville.  Because, like Ellie, none of them had actually been there on either of their previous visits.

So it is that they struggle up the hill in that heat.  And even though they all complain about it, none of them will give up.  Finally they reach the top, way above the tipi village, where there is the old car and the exit for the glamping.  They’ve never been here before. There’s the Strummerville sign strung along the fence and there’s folk sitting out on the grass getting fried in the sun. Turning round they get a great view of the festival.  Phoebe, Abi, and Lauren go sit down next to the motor for a rest while Ellie goes to fill up her water carrier.  She’s been drinking it all the way up the hill, so she needs a refill.  The toilets here are pretty clean.  Relatively clean, so she has a break there too.  She can have a wee think as well.

When she comes out Phoebe’s full of new news.  

“Ellie,” she says, “come over here.  Your friend’s just gone past.  He’s with one of his mates.  You should see what they’re wearing.  Come on, let’s go in.”

She’s obviously told Abi and Lauren that she’s just seen Joe and some other dude go into Strummerville, so they are dead keen to go in and see him too.  They walk under the flags and past the picnic benches and the ramshackle parade of stalls, and into the forbidden town.  It’s great to be under some shade at last.  A confused jangle of rhythms and vibes greets them as they shuffle slowly through the arched tree-lined entrance corridor towards the campfire clearing.

The woods open out.  To their right, at the bottom of the slope, empty at present, is the shanty stage, a collection of wood and cloth that wouldn’t look out of place in a Rio favela.  Dotted across the clearing in front of the stage are assorted groups quietly minding their own business.  In the centre is the campfire with its attendant ring of battered old sofas.  

She spots Joe’s hair first, over on the far side, beyond the campfire.  He’s sprawled on one of the sofas.  Yes, she can tell he’s wearing a skirt, but that’s OK.  So’s his mate.  What takes her by surprise is the fact that the two of them have their arms around each other and appear to be engaged in a deep and meaningful snog.

Ellie turns and walks out.

She’s half way down the hill past the Stone Circle before she realises that maybe she should have said something.  Her flight response kicked in way before her brain even thought about the correct reaction.  She wishes it could have been fight.  No, not fight exactly, but confrontation.  She’d like to ask him what yesterday meant, really.  And where the two of them a couple?  And why he hadn’t at least sent a text.  

Phoebe and Abi and Lauren are following her.  Phoebe said something like you’re better off out of it, but that didn’t help.  They know the history.  Some of it.  They were there.  Phoebe was actually there.  Abi and Lauren found out soon afterwards.

It was freshers week.  Phoebe and Ellie were in a bar when this other fresher walked up and started chatting.  That was Paul.  He was dressed up like David Hockney – bright blue and black check shirt, bright red braces, bright yellow tie.  Styled his hair like those early Hockney photos too – blond, short, swept across his forehead.  Just like Ellie’s in fact, only hers is black.  And he had those simple round obvious glasses.  He adopted them, her and Phoebe.  Fact is they adopted him, too, like you do in your first year.  Sometimes you make a mistake and adopt the wrong person.  But with Paul, he was actually the right person.  They became really good friends. Eventually.  

Trouble was Ellie thought that all the attention he paid her meant something.  She let herself develop a crush.  Of course he was as gay as a fruitcake.  And she was the only person who didn’t twig.  That attention he paid her was just his way of connecting.  Still, she thinks she’s much better at knowing now.  

At least she thought so until now.  Truth is the way Joe paid her attention and made her feel important wasn’t that much different from how it was with Paul.  So was Ellie really that stupid?  Had she fallen for the same trick again?

Then Abi says No.  That boy is definitely not gay.  Trust me.  I can tell.

Ellie tells herself she doesn’t actually care whether Joe is straight or bi.  Or even gay.  She just wants him to be monogamous.  Whatever.  She wants to know. Trouble is, she can’t go back and ask.

They’ve got back to Greenpeace and are walking down the track.  Some guy walks towards them with a blue Italy football shirt and a girl on his arm.  Brave man to wear that during the World Cup. When was the last time Italy went? Anyway, Ellie shouts Forza Azzurri to which he responds and asks, in Italian, whether she’s Italian herself.  She tells him sometimes.  Sometimes Italian, sometimes English.  English brain, Italian heart, she says.  She’s flirting and he knows it.  So does the girl on his arm.  The girl drags the fella away.  Ellie fires off a quick “A Presto!” and then walks off.  She turns around three or four paces later and sees that the dude has looked back and is watching her.  She smiles to herself.  It’s a hollow victory.  That dude probably does that to anyone in a skirt.  Or, in her case, anyone in a t-shirt and festival shorts.  But the truth is, the way Joe looked at her was much better.  Not superficial. Like he was looking inside at the real Ellie.  Like he appreciated her as a person.  Today that makes her feel even more empty.