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Oh, no, the poor guy. No wonder he’d been so gruff when she’d first met him. She scrolled through the rest of the files that the librarian had scanned and e-mailed to her.

Her breath caught as she gasped. An article from ‘It’s Here and Now’ had the sensational headline Davy Loves the Ladies. Below the headline was a photo of David and a woman in a tight clinch on the stage. Her head whirled and she closed her eyes.

It was her. Someone had taken a photo of them when David pulled her into his arms after the concert. A feeling of unreality tore at her and she struggled to catch her breath. It was only a photo of the back of her, but she knew it was her because she had been there.

David. Where are you?

Megan scrolled through the rest of the article, and the warmth disappeared as she read the words and the sad truth settled in her stomach like a stone.

Davy Morgan rushed to the hospital to be by the side of his new woman the very night after he was pictured in the arms of the mysterious auburn-haired beauty. He loves to love ’em and leave ’em, does our Davy.

Megan snapped the lid of the computer shut, drained her wine, and went to bed.

The next morning, she lay in bed as dawn broke. A languor had taken over her limbs and she stayed in bed as the light on the white walls of the small bedroom turned a rosy pink. Just as when she’d had sex with David on the riverbank. During the couple of hours sleep she’d snatched, her dreams had been full of him, and she was reluctant to leave her bed where she felt so close to him.

Singing to me, touching me…

Promising he’d come back.

She pulled herself out of her dream, reminding herself of what she’d read and how she’d been sucked in. Megan dragged herself out of bed, determined to forget David and go to the festival.

Well, he didn’t come back. It’s time to get on with my research, and get on with real life. Forget this dream existence and go to the festival.

The bloody 2011 festival.

She dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, put on a pair of sneakers, gathered her recorder and notebook, and set off up the road. When she walked past Rose Cottage, she couldn’t help looking for him. She strolled past slowly and peered in. But the door was closed and there was no sign of life.

Surely he’d come back safely? A cold glimmer of fear trickled down her back, but she pushed it back. He’d been coming through the time slip for years. He knew what he was doing.

He’s a big boy, Megan. He’ll be okay.

And there are obviously plenty of other women to worry about him.

Today the village was jam-packed with vehicles and sightseers heading towards the old abbey. Modern vehicles, SUVs, and small cars. Obviously the overflow from the festival had come to the village. Yesterday had been so much quieter but per the program, Megan knew today was the day when all the big-name bands were playing. That explained all the cars and the crowds.

But despite that, she knew there’d be no David Morgan appearing.

Megan made her way through the crowds and along the road to the farm at Pilton. It was so different from when she’d wandered along here in her bare feet only yesterday…or actually it was different than what it looked like in 1971—more than forty years ago.

But now she needed to do what she had come here for and then book the first flight back to Australia. She needed to sort out her job.

Her thesis took priority and the wealth of information she had collected at the 1971 festival yesterday needed to be written down out of her head and into her notes before she forgot it.

Megan stayed at the festival for two hours before she headed back through the village, disillusioned. The 2011 festival didn’t have the vibe of the one she’d been to yesterday. Slick and commercial, it was full of advertising billboards, parking attendants, and security men checking every bag that was carried through the gate. The crowds were quiet and boring, and the music was modern and did not touch her soul.

She refused to admit to herself it was because David wasn’t there. It was simply different music, in a different time.

My expectations were way off base. But at least it was all material for her thesis.

Retrieving the key from the front porch, she put it in the door and glanced across at Rose Cottage wondering if David had come back.

It didn’t matter. She was going home.

Chapter Twenty-Three

They kept Alice in the hospital in Taunton for two days while they ran tests and David almost went stir crazy. Luckily his wallet had been in his jeans pocket and he had enough money on him to get back to Glastonbury. Each day he spent with Alice at the hospital and he pumped her about her relatives in Australia.

He was worried Megan would think he’d let her down. He was sure Megan would be gone when he got back—if he got back. He’d promised her he’d be back that night, and he knew exactly what she’d think. The debauched rock star act he’d put on when he’d met her would help convince her he was unreliable and had just been using her.