Saturday in Croydon —and Emily’d said “Croydon is the armpit of London” but there we were on the two-fourteen train anyway, me and Olive—there was a man in a very big sombrero; a girl in a hibiscus-print muu-muu and a wide leopard belt; there were toenails painted pink and blue; there was a boy, blond and golden, running like it was the Fifties. There was the music festival, you see, and we like music festivals, but mostly we like free music festivals. And I’d never been to Croydon, so why not, even though maybe that is not always the best reason for things, and I remember now that when I told Marc we should do a tour of funny-sounding places in London—“Let’s go to Barking!” I’d said. “Let’s go to Tooting!”—he’d said, “I assure you it will be a lot less fun than what you imagine.” I’ll say that Saturday on the platform at King’s Cross, waiting for the Croydon train, with the train delayed and the epilectic station clock stuck at 14:01, with the woman blowing cigarette smoke into her toddler’s pram, I’d thought, What hare-brained scheme have we signed up for this time.

At first we sat in the shade under the big tree with the shaggy dog and the twelve-year-old smoking pot, we took turns lying on each other’s stomachs, then we moseyed on over to the main grounds to forage for food. Fairground food is candy floss and ice creams, or soft onions glistening in pools of oil on the grill. I handed over a pound for a blue Slush Puppie and regretted it immediately.

The crowd was waving and screaming for Ojos de Brujo, meanwhile, and the singerlady whirled in black and yellow. We went to see Daby Balde smiling and singing in the cool of the circus tent striped blue and red, while his guitarist hung out and twanged like he’d just dropped in for a cool gin drink. They sounded like the hot, still day and the bright summer breeze all at once, like fat beads forming on glasses of tea, ice cold. Olive disappeared for a second, then he came back and said De La Soul had started on the main stage. He pronounces De La Soul “De La Sool”, which made me laugh, he took my hand and we headed out into the grassy field again.



My hair was very ratty by the end of the day, I know it, but the boy was happy to kiss me still.