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It would.
If it didn’t, she’d deal with that when it happened.
##
Kathy and Megan were very different in appearance and personality. Megan had always been the academic one, and Kathy constantly told her she had her head in the clouds.
“There’s real life out there. Get your nose out of the dusty books,” Kathy would say. She was brash and loud, and didn’t trust easily, and when her sister had fallen for Tony, Megan had paid out on her in bucket loads.
Where Kathy was petite, fair-skinned and blonde—she always said it was her size that made her stand up for herself, Megan was tall and dark with olive skin. Burying her nose in books as a child, while Kathy had excelled at every sport she’d taken on, had isolated Megan, and confidence had always been a problem for her.
“I’m pleased you’ve decided to go on your trip. You know you can trust me to appeal and to do it properly?” Tony looked across the table at Megan as Kathy held her hand. Beth had stood behind her since they had ordered their coffee in the departure terminal at the airport. Now she rubbed Megan’s back in soothing circles.
The support of her family and best friend was going to get her through this. The problem was going to be the distance, but knowing Kath she’d call every day if she knew Megan needed her.
“Absolutely, Tony. You know I trust you. All the paperwork you’ll need is in folders in my study at the flat. That can answer the financial and marking allegations. And you’ve got the credit card records for paying for my ticket, haven’t you? The others I’ll have to deal with personally.” She turned to Kathy. “Do you know where your key to the flat is?”
Her sister nodded and Megan continued. “Any questions you’ve got, email me and I’ll sort them out. If they propose a meeting before I’m home, they’ll just have to wait till August. If they won’t wait I’ll go higher. I’ll even go to the media if I have to.” She stared at her brother-in-law. “I need to see the letter so I can look at all of the allegations in detail. It’ll all work out because I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Tony dropped his head in his hands. “Megan, you are such a Pollyanna. If there is a political move to get you out, they will, no matter what evidence you can produce.”
She shook her head. “But I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter. The system can be corrupt and if there is a hidden motive for them to get you out, they will win. Don’t expect that there will be any integrity or justice, just because you’re innocent.” He held her gaze and uncertainty filled her for the first time since they’d decided on the plan of attack. “And believe me, I have seen some unfair decisions over the years. Okay, I’ll word up an appeal and lodge it for you. If I have any questions, I’ll email you.”
Beth leaned forward. “Megs, there’s no internet in Violet Cottage. In fact, Aunt Alice wouldn’t even have a phone connected. You’ll have to go into the village to the public phone. Reverse the charges so you don’t have to worry about old fashioned call cards or coins.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll sort something out. I’m sure there’ll be an internet café or something. You just get the appeal organised and do whatever has to be done.” Megan turned away from Tony and looked at Beth. “I’m so grateful to your family for letting me stay in your aunt’s cottage. Now I just have to find my way there.”
“You can catch the train from Paddington station to Castle Cary. There’ll be buses to the festival but if you grab a taxi at the station, you’ll be able to go straight to Violet Cottage.”
Megan looked from her best friend to Tony and Kathy, the only family she had left, and tears filled her eyes.
“You look after my new little niece or nephew, Kath.”
As her sister hugged her, Megan knew they’d be there for her no matter what, and once she came home she’d show them how much she appreciated their support. She’d be the best damn babysitter there was.
Now it was time to say goodbye and make her way to the boarding gate and try to stay calm and focus on her research.
This whole stuff up could mean the end of her career and she was determined to fight it. The timing sucked but she would come back and sort it out in a month. She would try to switch off as best she could, enjoy the festival, get her research data and try to block this from her mind until she came home. Learning to meditate had helped her block unwanted thoughts last year when she’d been trying to work, and cope with the grief of her parents’ deaths; she’d do it again.
Now she had this opportunity to achieve her dream and visit Glastonbury, that sneaky, lying lowlife who wanted her job was not going to take it from her.
Chapter Four
Megan snapped her laptop shut as the captain announced they were only half an hour out of Heathrow Airport. The second leg of the long-haul flight from Dubai had passed quickly, and she’d organised all of her notes and files ready to begin her research at Glastonbury. A shiver of anticipation rippled through her as she realised that in less than an hour her feet would be on the ground in England, and her lifetime dreams were about to be achieved—visiting England, going to a music festival, and experiencing the British music scene firsthand.
The screen on the back of the seat beside her caught her attention and she leaned forward with interest as the credits for a seventies music show ran down the screen. She flicked her own TV on, slipped the earphones over her ears and scrolled through the music programs. She found and selected the seventies show and grinned when Davy Morgan strutted onto the stage.
How good was that? Megan had spent the past hour reading about him and now she could listen to his music…and watch him. It didn’t get much better than that. The librarian at the university had e-mailed the final articles scanned from the old microfiche copies of It’s Here and Now, the music magazine from the seventies that Megan was using for some of her research. The article was one she hadn’t read before and the photograph had caught her attention. It was the same photograph as the poster she’d had up on her wall when she was a teenager. The lurid headline hinted at a scandal but she ignored it. Her research had shown that scandals for rock stars in the seventies were manufactured on a daily basis to boost record sales.
And the media hadn’t changed much. In those days, the gossip had been in print. With today’s social media, a rock star couldn’t sneeze without it being tweeted or Instagrammed immediately.
Megan had been fascinated by the seventies music loved by her parents, and she’d preferred it over the nineties bands her friends had followed. Her fascination with the era had continued through university, and now formed the basis of her doctorate. Her research on Davy Morgan had come to a dead end soon after 1971. It seemed besides a few tours in late ’71 and early ’72, he’d become a bit of a recluse and there was very little information on him, apart from his appearance at the Glastonbury festivals for a few years after that, and reviews of his later albums. It was as though he’d disappeared…the only mention of him was a rumor that he’d retired to an island somewhere to write his music.
Megan reached over and turned the volume up and closed her eyes as Davy sang “For Megan.” She’d always loved that song; when she’d been a teenager she’d imagined he’d written it for her. She knew it had been a factor in her fascination with Davy Morgan’s music.
Come back to me, Megan.
