‘How so?’
‘Och, it’s pathetic. I think I’ve got myself worked up or perhaps the heat has gone to my head. I just don’t feel good about this concert.’ He shrugged. ‘I can’t explain it.’
‘I think I know what you mean,’ Laura said. ‘I felt like that on the plane. It was the first time I’d flown, and I imagined all sorts of things going wrong – the plane crashing, hijackers on board, you name it, it went through my mind. But all my worries turned out to be unfounded. We landed safely. It will be fine, you’ll see. I’m sure you’ll be grand.’
‘Thank you,’ Connor said, sounding sincere. ‘You’re right. I’m panicking over nothing.’ He smiled at Laura, but it didn’t reach his lovely blue eyes.
Chapter 9
THE NIGHT THEY DIED
Laura
They all agreed that the musicians playing for the opening act were pretty “meh”, as Claire put it. Whenever the lead singer of the French band sang into the mic, high-pitched feedback filled the auditorium. To his credit, he carried on regardless.
‘I hope they get the sound system sorted out before The Naturals come on,’ Sarah shouted over the music.
Laura was more concerned about going for a pee before The Naturals came on. Sarah had wanted to be as near to the stage as possible and had insisted on them all arriving at the arena an hour and a half before the doors opened. They’d waited at the front of the queue in the still-blazing evening sun, taking it in turns to sit in pairs in the shade of the plane trees along the boulevard. Laura must have drunk nearly a litre of water and they’d bought a plastic beaker of beer each when they’d got in.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Ava said during the interval.
‘You’ll lose your place,’ Sarah warned.
‘We can push through the crowd,’ Ava replied. Then, turning to Laura, ‘How’s your leg?’
Laura’s knee was sore, and a little swollen, from all the walking they’d done. She hadn’t wanted to say anything to her friends because she didn’t want to slow them down or complain, but she was hobbling noticeably by the end of their first day here.
‘Holding up,’ she lied. She was in agony. She’d take a painkiller when they went to the loos.
There were loads of people waiting for the toilet and Laura and Ava were at the back of the queue this time.
‘There’s no one waiting in line for the men’s bogs,’ Ava said. ‘Let’s go in there.’
‘Hé! Qu-est-ce que vous faites?’ a man yelled as they passed the urinals. Ava darted into the only free toilet cubicle and the man continued to shout at Laura.
Laura muttered an apology: ‘Je suis désolée.’ Then she ran out of the men’s and took her place at the back of the queue for the ladies’, which had grown a little longer.
‘You head on back,’ she said when Ava returned. ‘You’ll miss the start of the concert.’
‘You sure? I’m happy to wait for you.’
‘No, you’re all right,’ Laura said. ‘I’ll find you no bother.’
‘If you’re sure,’ Ava said.
Laura wasn’t, but Ava had already gone.
When Laura eventually came out of her toilet cubicle, she heard squeals of delight and applause. The Naturals must have come on stage. She took a packet of paracetamol out of her handbag and stuck her head under the tap so she could swallow down a couple of tablets.
As she was washing her hands, a man entered the toilets. Laura was about to point out that the men’s was opposite, but before she could come up with the words in French, she caught his eye in the mirror. There was something about the way he stared at her through his insistent dark eyes, something unsettling, and Laura’s half-formed sentence died on her lips.
She felt nervous suddenly. She was on her own now, alone with this stranger. She gave him a taut smile, but his expression didn’t change. He wiped his forehead with his bare arm and Laura realized he was sweating profusely. Laura, too, had sweated outside while they’d waited to get in, but in the toilets the air conditioning was on full blast and it was almost too cool.
His gaze did not waver and Laura wanted to run, but she was frozen to the spot for some reason, as this man’s reflection held her eyes. She noticed his arms were tanned, but his face was deathly white. He had a short, scraggly beard, but his hair was neat as if he’d recently had it cut. He was younger than her, of average height and build, wearing dark clothes. She watched, trembling now, as he walked purposefully to the cubicle at the end. She saw him struggle with the door, which was apparently locked. But he got it open somehow and entered, banging the door behind him. Laura heard him lock it from the inside.
Stuck to the toilet door with tape was a sign, a piece of white paper. Two words had been written on it by hand with a black marker pen, but in the mirror, the letters were back to front. Laura turned around, taking in the words. HORS SERVICE. Out of order. Without drying her hands, she hurried out of the toilets as fast as she could on her dodgy knee.
The band had kicked off with one of their most popular songs, “Always & Anyway”, and the audience was jumping up and down. Laura had difficulty weaving her way through the crowd towards the stage. She certainly wouldn’t be jumping up and down; her knee was killing her. The closer she got to the stage, the hotter it seemed to get. The lights had dimmed and she couldn’t see her friends. Where were they?
The Naturals finished playing “Always & Anyway” and suddenly Laura was swamped by a fog of dry ice. She stood still, waiting for it to disperse, hearing the opening chords strike up to her favourite song, “Don’t let this be the end”. She sang along and relaxed a little, even though she was still separated from her friends. They couldn’t be far away. There were only two or three rows of people between her and the stage now.
Then, as a strobe light flashed, she caught sight of Ava, her head above those around her thanks to her vertiginous heels, and next to her, a good few inches lower, Sarah’s blond ponytail swinging from side to side as she swayed in time to the music. She heaved a sigh of relief and trod on some toes as she elbowed her way towards them.
A hand tapped her shoulder. Whirling round, she found herself face to face with Claire.
‘I was coming to find you,’ Claire shouted in her ear. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes,’ Laura said. ‘Thank you.’
‘I was … worried. I thought maybe … lost or something.’ Laura couldn’t hear Claire properly over the music.
‘What? No. Long queue, that’s all.’
Just then there was a loud bang. Laura froze.
‘What was that?’ she shouted near Claire’s ear.
Claire shouted back. Laura caught two words. “Firecracker” and “percussion”.
Claire didn’t seem worried, so Laura tried not to be. But it had seemed a bit loud to be a firecracker. And it didn’t sound like the drums. It had sounded more like a pneumatic drill starting up and stopping abruptly. Or a detonation. But that was ridiculous.
There was another loud bang with a white flash somewhere to their right, followed by a screeching sound through the loudspeakers as Niall fell to the floor of the stage, clutching his mic in his hand. On one of the giant screens, Laura saw him fall. The whole crowd had witnessed it, too. People started running in all directions, pushing and shouting.