The Ned Wood Archive

Ellie

Black Water County were super fun.  Much more raucous than the Spotify tracks.  Lots of pogoing and moshing at the front.  Yeah, there was some token folk posing.  There was a guy playing folky instruments like banjo or mandolin.  And the singer had a whole shilling’s worth of penny whistles.  But they didn’t fool Ellie or Phoebe.  They were straight up punk style rock n roll.  Incessant beat.  Continuous energy.  Eardrum-bashing lyrics.  Even on a hot sunny afternoon at the Park, they had them partying.

They even managed to distract Ellie and Phoebe from their mission of searching the crowd.  They’d got there before the band came on and walked up and down the hill to see whether they could see Joe.  No luck, but he’ll turn up.  Ellie’s confident.

They stick around after Black Water County and try another loop of the audience.  The crowd is thinning a bit, so there’s plenty of space to move around.  No luck, though.

Hamish Hawk comes on.  Ellie loves him.  He’s like your much older big brother or your uncle.  He’s dressed in a suit, but Ellie thinks he could more likely be wearing a big fluffy sweater.  Cable knit. He’s easy going, charming, comfortable.  He’s also poetic, stylish, lyrical, and haunting.  

He reminds Ellie of Joe.  I mean, they look completely different.  Hamish Hawk has short blond hair and no beard.  But there’s something about his nature that reminds Ellie of Joe’s tenderness.  How he was when he was when they were looking out on top of the Ribbon Tower.  How he was when he was talking about the sun.  Ellie takes the wallet out of her bum bag and holds it to her chest.

Strange thing is, that first band, Black Water County, they were like Joe too.  Like when he was bouncing around at that first band he took her to – the Struts.  Like when they were moshing at Menstrual Cramp or whatever their name was.  That’s it.  There are many sides to people, she knows, and there are no doubt many sides to Joe.  And she also knows and tells herself in that moment, listening to Hamish Hawk sing about how, just that once, he called me Juliet, she tells herself that she’ll call him Romeo, tells herself what her heart has known all weekend, tells herself that she loves Joe.

And there, suddenly appearing in front of her, she sees his friend.  The one with the massive smile and the gorgeous bright clothing.  Has she somehow summoned the archangel?  He turns around and smiles at her.

“Hello, Elena, my dear,” says George, his voice raised just enough for her to hear above the band.  “You look absolutely stunning!”  

Ellie’s first reaction is: “You’re not wearing your skirt”.  OK, it’s a dumb thing to say.  He probably already knows that.  But it carries on the conversation.  

“Darling, as you no doubt are aware, one can’t simply wear the same outfit twice at the same festival.  Josephine does of course. But he’ll learn. But he was right about you, my dear.  You do have exquisite taste.”  

Her next reaction is a slight one of disbelief.  She thinks she looks OK.  Not stunning, just OK.  She’s just wearing her festival gear.  One of Abi’s rugby shirts and her faded blue cut off Levi’s.  Abi’s tall, but her shirt isn’t quite long enough for Ellie to take off her shorts and just wear the shirt as a dress.  Or maybe Ellie’s not brave enough.  Truth is, she doesn’t really wear much fancy stuff or outrageous stuff because, well, she’s just a wee bit shy. Too self-conscious. But she’s got on her new trainers, though, not her wellies, so that’s not so naff.  

Anyway, who is this Josephine.  And more to the point.  Where’s Joe? she wonders.  She can’t see him.

“Dearest Josephine, my soul sister, is sampling the artistic talents of Dan Smith and the rest of his popular beat combo,” says George, answering the questions she was about to articulate.  

“However, between the two of us, I believe he is busy searching for the love of his life.  And annoying everyone at Bastille asking after you”.

“He’s down at the Pyramid then…” she says and makes to move off.  They are standing towards the far side of the Park Stage area, up near the track and the small group of stalls.  The crowd is too packed for her to go straight towards the Pyramid stage, so she starts to turn back up the hill and loop round the long way.  George stops her.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” says George, taking out his phone.  “I will summon him.  You enjoy the rest of the wonderful Mister Hawk and I’ll get him up here.”