"Can I have a cheese and ham sandwich, please?"
His uncle hadn't been kidding when he said how busy working at a festival would be. The van was at Linlithgow, the festival called the Party at the Palace. Ryan had hoped for something a little more...cool. The Proclaimers and Billy Ocean headlining wasn't that, and he hoped his disappointment hadn't shown.
Nevertheless, when the van arrived – he was with Daniel and a guy called Lewis who usually worked in Stuffed!'s Hyndland shop – at the site he had cheered up considerably. There were loads of people milling about, and there was a dance tent that he hoped to get to later when business slowed down.
Mind you, it hadn't slowed down yet. At first, Ryan thought he'd never be able to cope. As soon as Daniel threw open the van's serving hatch, people crowded around shouting their orders thick and fast. No-one seemed to want the same sandwich or wrap. They asked for complicated versions – butter, no butter, mayo, no mayo, cheese with tomatoes, cheese with coleslaw. How on earth would he be able to remember it all? Daniel started him off buttering bread and spreading hummus on wraps. Between them, he and Lewis finished the sandwiches off and took the orders. There wasn't a lot of space in the van and Ryan quickly realised why Daniel insisted he keep the area he was working in as tidy as possible. There just wasn't room for a mess.
The voice asking for a cheese and ham sandwich sounded familiar and he glanced up, looking through the window. It was Instagram girl, or should he call her Parkour girl? That might be a bit more respectful, seeing as the last time he had seen her she hadn't been wearing many clothes. As if she had discerned his thoughts, the girl caught his eye and he blushed.
Daniel and Lewis were dealing with a couple of other orders. Ryan moved forward so he could lean out of the hatch and take the girl's order.
"Hiya – you want a cheese and ham sandwich?" Should he introduce himself? Did she remember him?
"It's Erin, isn't it?"
The girl looked surprised, and then nodded. "Oh, yeah. Ryan. What are you doing here?"
Ryan looked over his shoulder. "I'm here wi' my uncle. He owns the van. I'm working."
Lewis brushed past him, reaching for the tub of cheese to the left of him. "Sparkling repartee there, my son," he whispered as he did so, snorting in amusement as Ryan blushed even more. Unasked, Lewis had taken over the order and he handed over the sandwich, taking Erin's money.
She picked up her order, the sandwich neatly wrapped in Stuffed!'s branded paper, but didn't move away.
"What time are you working till?" she asked. Behind Ryan, Daniel and Lewis exchanged wry looks.
"Oh, er, I dunno," Ryan replied. Daniel had asked him if he wanted to work at a festival and he'd said yes. The terms and conditions had not been discussed. He didn't know if they included any breaks.
Daniel had moved so that he was standing beside Ryan. "Come back in a couple of hours," he told Erin. "And we'll maybe let up slave driving young Ryan here."
Erin nodded and walked off. Daniel nudged Ryan. "And in the meantime, get working. If you're going to have a break, you need to have earned it!" He still sounded amused, so Ryan thought he didn't mind too much that one of his workers would be taking a break. Daniel had told him that usually he and Lewis did this festival by themselves as it was one of the smaller ones. Strictly speaking, he wasn't necessary.
"Thanks, Uncle Daniel," he said, and started washing up some of the equipment.
Erin returned two hours later. As Ryan had been watching the clock continuously since she'd left the first time, he was very relieved to see her having harboured doubts that she would return. She might have got a better offer in the meantime. Grabbing his hoodie from one of the hooks at the back of the van, he headed off with her, promising Daniel he would be back in two hours' time. It was now late afternoon.
"Where shall we go?" he asked Erin. She pointed at the picnic benches that overlooked the main stage and the lochs. There was an empty table at the far end. Sat at the bench, she took a bottle of coke out of her bag, unscrewed the top and offered it to him.
"Thanks," he said, taking a large gulp. The taste wasn't what he had expected, and he coughed and spluttered.
Erin burst out laughing. "There's vodka in there."
Ryan handed the bottle back. He always had a few drinks with his uncle Jamie, but he didn't yet know his uncle Daniel well enough to know if he approved of underage drinking. Or of drinking while you were meant to be working. He decided not to take the risk.
Erin shrugged and took a swig herself. Ryan thought she might already have had quite a bit of doctored coke. She was giggly and she kept touching his arm as she talked to him.
"Why did you stop going to parkour?" he asked. Ryan had joined a group in Glasgow at the end of last year, attracted by the sport's cool reputation. It was a lot more physically taxing than he'd realised. The group's leader, Josh, made it look effortless, his wiry body making short work of the leaping, running and climbing needed to negotiate the urban environment. Parkour used all the muscles in the body and it required concentration, strength, determination and co-ordination. After a while Ryan realised he was good at it. Erin had been good at it too. She managed to make the climbing look easy, pulling her body up and over obstacles easily. She had stopped going some months ago though.
"Ross didnae like it," she said, taking yet another swig of coke. "He's my twin."
Of course, Erin had a twin brother. The boy a male version of her, the two of them with classic Celtic colouring of dark hair and blue eyes. If he remembered rightly, Ross hadn't been that good at parkour.
"Do you have to do everything together then?" Ryan was curious. Was that how it worked with twins?
Erin snorted. "No. He's no' here today is he? Do you want a fag?" She pulled out a crumpled packet of cigarettes from her bag ad offered one to him.
Ryan shook his head again, feeling very goody two-shoes. Erin was going to think he was a complete wuss. Don't drink, don't smoke. Jamie was a fanatical non-smoker, having given up smoking ten years ago. His fanaticism had rubbed off on Ryan. Besides, cigarettes were far too expensive. He had too many other things to waste his money on.
She had also taken out a lighter. He took it off her and flicked it on, curling his hand around the flame to protect it. "I'll light it for you," he said. Ryan had a feeling he'd seen some guy do this in an old black and white film, and that women thought it was sexy. She placed the cigarette in her mouth and leaned forward.
Erin only took a few puffs of the cigarette, taking it of her mouth so quickly he suspected she wasn't really smoking it anyway.
"Who are you here with?" he asked. She hadn't had anyone with her when she'd appeared at the sandwich van.
"Some friends," she pointed vaguely behind her. "They're cool. We're all doing our own thing. We might stay here tonight."
There was a campsite nearby where festival goers could stay.
"Why don't you stay too?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm. She had put those stickers on her nails, the ones with elaborate patterns. These ones were tiny skulls and crossbones that matched the pattern on the scarf she was wearing.
Again, Ryan felt like a goody two-shoes. If he went back to Daniel and said, "Actually Uncle Daniel you dinnae need to take me home because I'm going to stay the night," he doubted his uncle would let him. And his mother would ask far too many embarrassing questions. Who is this girl? Have I met her? How long have you been seeing her? And then she would start her condom lecture, reminding him of the consequences of not wearing one – the main one being an unplanned pregnancy. Not that she regretted him, she was always anxious to emphasise, but a child at a young age was a big deal and it was better if it happened when you were older and wiser.
Of course, he could tell his mum and Daniel that he had run into friends and they had asked him to stay. Male friends. His thoughts whirled. Beside him, he was acutely conscious of Erin's smell, part coke, part vodka, part cigarette and part perfume, a light flowery scent. It tickled his nostrils. She had leaned in closer to him and the hand was back on his leg.
Hesitantly, he put his arm around her, pulling her even closer. She responded readily, snuggling her body into his. The smell intensified. Her head rested on his shoulder and the side of her body that was next to his felt unbelievably warm. Her hand had edged its way up and was now resting just below his groin. If she moved it any farther, he knew what would happen.
She tilted her face upwards, and suddenly the two of them were kissing. Vodka had made her bold, and the kiss was deep and intense. She tasted as she smelt, of vodka and coke, and cigarette smoke. Ryan felt himself go hard, and harder still as she placed hand over the swelling in his jeans.
The bench was set apart from most of the other benches so the two of them had a bit of privacy, but he still felt self-conscious as she began to tug at the zipper on his jeans.
"C'mon," he stood up. To the left of them were trees. It would be a bit more discreet. Erin grinned at him and delved into the large bag she was carrying once more. "Let's have another drink first."
Ryan wasn't drinking and rather more eager to retire to the woods. He did have to get back to the van in an hour after all, but he agreed to the drink. He was nervous. He wasn't a virgin, having divested himself of the state a year ago, but it was a while since he'd had sex with a girl he really, really liked.
Erin passed a plastic bottle to him and he took a deep gulp. Vodka on its own wasn't nice. He could feel it burn its way down his throat and chest, but the effect was good. It warmed his belly and groin and he began to relax a little. Erin took the bottle off him and put it to her mouth. She drank deeply, sticking her tongue out at him jokingly when she finished. She took the bottle away from her mouth, the movement jolted it and the vodka spilled out, coating the hair on the right-hand side of her face.
"I want a ciggie!" she said. "And then we'll..." She tilted her head to the side, indicating the woods, and he smiled back at her. This festival was proving very successful so far. Work, a free pass to the event and now a hook-up with the girl he'd been fantasising about for months. His relatives were amazing.
Erin took a cigarette out and extracted the lighter rom her pocket. She bent forward to light it. Ryan blinked. He'd seen what was going to happen – the moment you can see a plate tip over on a table and yet you can't stop it.
As she cradled the lighter close to her face and sparked it up, the flame caught her hair – the hair that had been soaked in vodka moments ago when she had jolted the bottle. Erin screamed, a high-pitched shriek, batting at her hair ineffectually with her hand. Ryan had never seen anyone set their hair alight before and the spectacle was fearsome – the flames catching and lighting up individual hairs and an overwhelming smell of vodka, singeing and something that smelt familiar. Too late, he realised the something that smelt familiar was the same kind of smell when you cooked meat.
Hastily, he untied the hoodie he had knotted around his waist and threw it over her head. That was what you were meant to do with fires, wasn't it – smother them? He'd had to sit through some health and safety lessons before getting into the van with Daniel and Lewis. The fires they had referred to had been oven and chip pan type variety, though.
Erin's shrieks had attracted people. Two of the event's stewards had approached, one of them seeming to have sprinted a great distance as he paused to place his hands on his thighs and take a couple of fortifying breaths before addressing them.
Erin's shrieks had stopped, but convulsive sobs sounded from underneath the hoodie. Her body shook and trembled.
"Everything okay?" the sprinter steward asked when he'd recovered his breath. The other steward rolled her eyes. It was self-evident everything was not okay and the smell gave away what had happened. The female steward touched Erin's shoulder gently.
"Alright love, let's see what's happened and we can get you to the First Aid tent."
She pulled the hoodie off Erin's head, the movement causing her to shriek out afresh as the material rubbed against her face.
Ryan stared at her in horror. He could hardly have believed that the flames could have done so much damage in so small a time. The right side of her face was bright red, the skin scaly and blistered. The lid of her right eye had swollen up and it was red-rimmed, blinking in pain. The lashes, he noticed had almost entirely burned off, while the hair that had caught fire in the first place had shortened, its ends sprung up and sticking out.
"Are you her boyfriend?" the female steward enquired. She had pulled the sobbing Erin towards her, muttering, "You'll be alright, love, you'll be alright."
"No, but I'll come with you." Ryan heart was thumping. The incident had frightened him, but he was also afraid he had made it worse. Instructions to put out fires might be different for kitchen fires than they were for people. What if he had caused those horrific facial injuries?
Watched curiously by the people around them, he and the other steward followed behind Kelly and the woman, who told them her name was Claire. The First Aid caravan was parked at the other side of the picnic benches. The two first aiders leaning casually on its sides leapt to attention as they spotted the four of them.
One of them, a reassuringly motherly figure, took charge straight away, asking Erin her name. She held Erin out in front of her, staring at the damage and making the same kind of soothing noises Claire had.
"We're going to take you inside Erin, get you some privacy and see what we can do."
Again, Ryan was asked if he was her boyfriend. This time, he said "yes" earning himself a funny look from the two stewards, but inside the caravan Erin took hold of his hand. He'd been right to say so.
The motherly first aider had opened one of the cabinets, producing creams and dressings. She began to wash the area, Erin flinching as she did so. Ryan could see she was trying very hard not to cry.
As the first aider dabbed away, the damage began to look a little less serious. It was still inflamed and angry-looking, but at least the damage now looked confined to a smaller area. When Ryan had first seen her face, it looked as if the entire right side of her face had been burned.
Telling the two of them he needed to check in with his uncle and promising Erin he'd be straight back, he let himself out of the caravan. Claire the steward was still there.
"You okay? Bet you got a bit of a fright," she said.
"Mmm. Do you think it was my fault?" The words burst out of him, the fear of what he had done was making his stomach clench uncomfortably.
"Your fault? How?" Claire looked puzzled so he explained what exactly had happened.
She nodded thoughtfully in response and then shook her head vigorously in response to his look of dismay.
"No, no you did the right thing. I think your girlfriend," Ryan thought he could hear her put "girlfriend" in quotes, "was wearing hair extensions too, the acrylic ones. That would have made her hair doubly inflammable. You did the right thing smothering the flames."
Ryan felt his belly unclench. He still needed to tell Daniel where he was, though. He'd been away for only 45 minutes – though it felt like a lot longer – but Erin's first aid treatment might take a lot longer.
Stuffed!'s van was still doing steady trade when he returned. Catching sight of him approaching, Lewis raised his eyebrows.
"Don't tell me – she got sick of your repartee and you crashed and burned?"
Ryan winced. "Erm, not exactly." He explained what had happened, albeit missing out the bit where he'd taken a few swigs of the vodka too.
"Listen, just go back there.," Daniel said. "We've got a few more hours here before we head back. You can bring her back here later if you like. We could give her a lift back to Glasgow."
"Thanks." Ryan agreed with his uncle. It didn't seem as if Erin would be fit to camp out with her friends.
"Run along then," Daniel said, that look of wry amusement back on his face. "And try not to get the wee lassie killed next time eh?"
About to protest, Ryan screwed up his face instead and headed back to the first aid tent. Thing was, he really, really liked Erin. Maybe not so much when she was a bit drunk and silly, but he had liked her at Parkour and he found her attractive. It was nice to feel as if he could be helpful.