Megan hurried to keep up with David when he came to a turnstile in the fence. He stepped back and waited for her to climb through first.

“Thank you.” She nodded. Her thoughts were still whirling around. Even though she’d been angry at him for trying to boss her around, she had been relieved to see him when he’d appeared behind her on the way to the cottage. Her mind was still foggy, as though it was full of cotton wool, and she wasn’t sure what was real or whether she was dreaming.

When she’d picked up the paper in the village store, she’d  recognised it straightaway. It was the same article she’d been reading on her laptop on the plane and now she intended to read it again as soon as she got back to the cottage. Did the strange woman in the shop really say it was 1971 or had she imagined that? Did she really go into the village shop or was that a dream? Did everyone really look and act as though it was the seventies?

Are they all crazy or am I?

As they walked along the field, a bright and shiny red Mustang roared along the road at the edge of the field. The traffic was building as the festival got going. Megan stopped and put her hands on her hips as three VW Kombi vans trundled past, their engines revving as they drove up the slight hill.

Everything was confirming her suspicions. Truth was, she’d been terrified to go back to the cottage by herself. Not knowing what she was going to find there.

It was bizarre. The more she thought about it, the more everything pointed to her being in a different time, in the same place.

The clothes, the music, the small crowd at the festival and the way they were behaving. The different woman in the shop today and that newspaper headline. The clothes they were wearing. It was all so…so seventies.

Either she was dreaming or she’d taken leave of her senses. Maybe she’d had a breakdown because of the news about her job. Add in some jet lag and who knows…? A cold prickly feeling crept up her chest and her breath caught. She stopped and put her hand to her head as it all overwhelmed her.

Where the hell did David fit into the whole mess? Until she knew, she wasn’t going to say anything to him. Because if she was right, he wasn’t David. He was Davy Morgan. The real Davy Morgan.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was kind and a shiver ran down her back at the same time warmth pooled between her thighs. She wasn’t used to a guy worrying about her…but it was…sort of okay. Despite the confusion of her thoughts, her body pulled towards him, craving physical closeness. She fought the desire to lean into him and let him hold her.

“Nothing.” She held her hand to her head. “I have a slight headache. I need to sleep, and have a drink. Maybe I’m dehydrated?”

He reached up and gently pushed her hair back from her face. She couldn’t help turning into his hand. “I did get some sleep after you left, but it was a pretty exhausting way we spent the night.” Her heartbeat increased as she remembered the feel of him moving inside her. It had been the most amazing sexual experience of her life.

“You’re all flushed. I’ll get you some food and something cold to drink while we play and then I’ll get you back home as soon as we’re finished. It’s a really short set. We’re just introducing—” He broke off and didn’t finish the sentence.

“Introducing who, David?”

He looked away across the field and wouldn’t meet her eye.

“Just a new band. You’ll see.”

The crowd had gotten even bigger in the time she’d been in the village and Kombi vans lined the narrow lane beside the fence.

Megan looked up at David, deciding to fish a little bit without giving away her suspicions. “There are a lot of old VWs here.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a free festival and a lot of people who can’t afford the big gigs come down from the city in their beat-up old cars.” He didn’t sound convincing and she pushed on with her questions.

“So how come the old cars are so bright and shiny?” Then she realised what he’d said.

“What do you mean a free festival? I had to pay a heap for my three-day ticket.”

“Errr…I must have misunderstood. I assumed it was free.” He wouldn’t meet her eye and Megan knew he was lying. “I’m only a simple musician. I’m not sure what’s going on. Come on, the guys are going to be worried.” The more that was said, the more her certainty grew that somehow she was at the 1971 festival and he was trying to hide it from her. She shook her head. Now she was thinking crazy thoughts too.

Maybe that soup had had something in it?

He grabbed her hand and dragged her through the crowd. Warmth shot up her arm and she resisted the urge to curl her fingers in his. She had no idea what was going on, who he really was, or when she was.

Bloody hell, I can’t concentrate.

David Morgan was a mass of contradictions. The man who was pulling her along behind him and expressing such concern for her well-being was poles apart from the rude guy who’d greeted her the other night, and very different again from the man who had taken her to heaven and back again last night. Now he was looking after her. Taking a breath and shaking her head, she tried to clear it and stay focused on the present.

Whenever that was.

“So why is everyone dressed in seventies clothes?”

“I don’t know, Megan. Like I said, I’m just a musician. I’m not the fount of all knowledge about the festival. You’re the sociologist.”

“Don’t worry. I intend to find out everything I can. Trust me. I am very interested in what’s happening around me.” She pulled her hand from his as he stopped at the back of the pyramid stage. A set of stairs led to the stage about ten feet above them and David stood back and gestured for her to climb up. She hesitated.

“Come on, I don’t want to lose you again.” He put his hands on her waist and lifted her onto the first step, and her skin burned where his fingers gripped her firmly.

“You can sit on the side of the stage and you’ll have the best seat in the house.” He stood in front of her and his eyes were level with hers. His face was so close, his breath fanned her hot cheeks and she looked down as she felt it stirring along her skin. She didn’t move, and continued to watch him. And wait.

Will I never learn? Focus.

Finally, she turned away and grabbed the rope that ran up each side of the stairs, conscious of him close behind her.

“Thank God, man.” The two men she’d met at the pub yesterday, his band members, Bear and Slim, stood at the edge of the suspended wooden platform. As she looked up at them, she remembered how she knew their names. Bear and Slim were the nicknames of the two guys in Davy Morgan’s band. She’d read it in that article on her laptop. On the CDs she’d listened to for years, they were credited under their real names, but it was only yesterday in that article about a scandal involving Davy that she’d read their nicknames

Holy shit. It is1971. How the hell had that happened? She racked her brain, reliving every moment of the past few hours. It had all turned crazy after she’d woken up in the first aid tent. After she’d followed David through the field after he’d disappeared.

And I touched that stone. That was it.

It was like something out of a bloody historical novel. Time travel? No way?

She shook her head, on the brink of tears.

“We thought you weren’t going to get back in time,” Bear said as he nodded at Megan. “He found you okay, I see?”

David nodded without speaking as he slid a small wooden chair behind the brown hessian covering that was hanging at the side of the stage. When he had pushed it into the shadows, he turned to her and once again his strong fingers gripped her waist as he lifted her and put her in the chair. Megan sat and watched, bemused as he turned to Slim and finally spoke.

“Have you got anything to drink? Any food?”

From behind Bear’s drums, Slim retrieved a backpack and dug inside and pulled out a glass bottle.

David frowned as his fingers circled the neck of the narrow glass bottle and passed it to Megan. “At least Coke will give you some energy.”

She took the cold glass bottle from him, holding it up in front of her.

“Hmm, one of those retro Coke bottles?” She watched as the two men exchanged a glance.

“Yeah, a retro bottle.”

Ha! Sure it is.

The floor creaked as another man jumped up from the top step onto the stage.

“No groupies allowed up here, Davy.” The older guy was dressed in a business suit and he pointed across at Megan.

“No problem. She’s my girlfriend, and she wasn’t feeling well. I want to keep an eye on her while we do our set.” David reached for his guitar and slung the strap over his shoulder.

“Fair enough.” After flicking a disinterested glance at Megan, he went to the edge of the stage. “Fabulous crowd. A lot more than we’d hoped for. The first festival was an impromptu one but we’ve trebled the crowd this year.

“Ready? It’s only a minute till you’re on.” The guy looked at his watch. “Where’s Holly?”

David shook his head, “Haven’t seen her since she was asleep in the tent. Maybe she’s still down there.” Megan was surprised to see a frown cross his face, and she narrowed her eyes.

Who’s Holly? A girlfriend?

“Slim, is she okay? Can you go down and check on her?”

“You haven’t got time. I’ll go down and look for her while you’re playing. Okay?” The man shot David a sympathetic look and Megan wondered what was going on.

“Thanks, Brian.”

David stepped to the front, but seemed to stay back far enough to keep Megan in his line of sight. Slim walked across and flicked the switches on two large amplifiers next to the speakers and a loud buzz filled the stage. A roar came up from the crowd below and then it hushed with anticipation. Bear slid in behind the drums on the slightly raised platform in the centre of the large stage and grinned at Megan as he stretched and raised his arms above his head.

The energy on the stage was palpable as Brian walked past David.

Megan’s head spun with excitement as the hum from the amplifiers surrounded her, and she lifted the cool glass bottle and held it against her cheek, conscious of David’s gaze fixed on her even as his fingers slid gracefully along the neck of the guitar. A shiver ran down her back and it was more from the intense expression on his face than the cold glass against her skin.

“Music lovers of Glastonbury 1971, let’s enjoy Davy Morgan and his band.” The voice of the announcer boomed over the microphone followed by a loud drumming as Bear crashed his drumsticks down. Then there was silence.

Megan closed her eyes as a roar came from the crowd below and the plaintive notes of one of her favorite Davy Morgan songs hung in the air.

Music lovers of Glastonbury 1971!

He had said 1971. Nineteen seventy-one. Bloody hell.

Either she was dreaming or crazy, or something in this place had taken her back in time. If this was 1971, then David really was Davy Morgan. It was too much to take in. She closed her eyes and let the music fill her—she’d worry later and figure out what to do. In the meantime, she would make the most of wherever—or whenever—she was.

The beat of the music hollowed out and Davy started to sing.

Because it was Davy Morgan’s voice. The voice she’d listened to for so long.

The lyrics were filled with sadness and longing and Megan kept her eyes tightly closed and sang the words, her lips moving slowly in time with the beat and the long-held notes.

My love is for you

Time doesn’t matter

It holds no meaning.

The chorus began and the crowd joined in and the mass of voices rose from below.

Free as a bird to come and leave on the air

Through time, through time.

The words she knew so well had a completely new meaning for her now. Megan kept her eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t open them because she knew David’s gaze was still on her. The feeling warmed her skin as if he’d placed his fingers on her. She knew he watched her as he sang. She held her breath as the music built to a final crescendo, and the long, lonely guitar riff that heralded the last verse filled her ears. The music flowed through her skin, filled her mind and her soul. Her limbs were weightless and she imagined she was flying like the bird in Davy’s song. It was the same feeling she’d experienced last night when Davy had lain with her at the side of the small brook.

For fifteen minutes, she sat with her head back and her eyes closed, as the music swirled around her. Warmth flowed through her and the same sexual excitement that had ripped through her nerve endings last night gripped her once again. Opening her eyes, she lifted her gaze to Davy and the sexual energy crackled between them. His dark brooding eyes were fixed on her and she knew he felt the same desire she did. Her lips parted softly and she ran her hands slowly up her arms as she held his gaze.

***

As soon as the first word had left his lips, and Megan had closed her eyes, David was enthralled. The synergy of the band flowed and completed the circle they always strove for, but this time, Megan was a part of it. She leaned back in the chair with her eyes closed and when her mouth moved with the song, all David could think of was the feel of her lips beneath his.

As the blood surged to his groin and he swelled with wanting her, he was grateful for the long loose shirt that hung over his jeans, because the whole audience would have witnessed what he was feeling.

Music always filled him with desire and restlessness, but he’d never before experienced this connection with a woman. God, there’d been plenty of girls available whenever he’d needed to lose himself after performing—even back in the early days when he had played the pubs by himself. Over the years, the excitement of hooking up with different girls had paled, and it had bored him. There had been no feeling in it. For him, it was a quick coupling to assuage a basic need; for the girls it was simply the opportunity to say they’d slept with Davy Morgan. And when they found out which hotel the band was staying at, they wouldn’t leave him alone. That’s why finding the cottage next door to Alice had been a godsend.

David played without being conscious of the notes that came from his guitar and the words that fell from his lips. He thought back over the events that had led to his living across two centuries. Right up until yesterday when Megan had followed him through the time slip, he’d kidded himself that he had it all thought out and had been confident he could make music in one time and live his life privately in another. He knew the risk of changing anything in the past. Writing and playing his music were no threat, he rationalised to himself, but now another person was involved and it had become fraught with danger.

When the drums crashed loudly and Slim used the pedal to wind down the last sad notes of the final song of their set, Megan was staring at him and Davy’s world came crashing down as he fell into her eyes.

Those beautiful eyes. The hunger in them echoes how I feel. How the hell am I going to keep my hands off her?

Oblivious to the screams of the crowd and the others on the stage around them, he slid his guitar from his shoulder and walked over to her.

I can’t. Relief flooded through him as he let his need consume him.

He held out his hand without breaking their gaze and her hand gripped his as he pulled her from the chair. Her body was soft against his, her breasts moulded by the thin T-shirt she wore. Her arms went around his neck and he lowered his lips and claimed her mouth.

It didn’t matter when he was, he’d found where he wanted to be.

***

“Ken’s got a room.” The deep voice filled with mirth gradually intruded on Megan’s senses. Her world had whirled around her once David’s hot mouth had taken hers in a savage kiss. She hadn’t cared where she was or who else was around. All she needed was the touch of David against her. If this was a different world, and a different time she’d somehow fallen into, so be it. If it felt like this, she was happy to stay here.

As long as it was real. She would die if she woke up and it was all a dream.

Gradually, movement on the stage brought her back to reality. At the same time, David pulled his lips away but he kept one arm tightly around her. She needed it; her body was still screaming for his touch.

“Bear, can I borrow your van?” His deep voice sent a shiver down her back.

“Sure, don’t need it for a while. Slim and I are going to have a wander round and chill out for a while.” Bear winked at her. “We’re not on again till tomorrow afternoon so you two lovebirds have a whole day and a night.”

David pulled away from her slightly and Megan’s legs trembled as his hand stopped supporting her. But he was only gone for a second as he reached for his guitar. As he picked it up his arm came firmly around her back again.

“Thanks, Bear. And can you make sure Holly is okay?” He lowered his voice and turned to his band mates, who stood at the side of the stage. “In case I don’t make it back, I’ll park the van on the other side of the village. About a mile down.”

Bear and Slim came over together and each shook Davy’s free hand.

“Try your best, man. Our music needs you.” Slim turned to Megan. “Make sure he comes back, won’t you, dolls?”

Megan looked from one to the other and though she sensed that something had changed she couldn’t understand what. Nodding, she held her hand out and Bear squeezed it.

“I certainly will. The world needs Davy Morgan and his music.”

She felt David tense beside her as his arm gripped her tightly. She looked up at him and smiled.

“You don’t have to tell me where I am. Or rather, when I am.” She lifted her hand and held it against his lips. “I know.”