Soul Fire (26 page)

I realise I’ve been holding my breath the whole time. Gabe lets go of my hand.

‘Do you think he’ll come back?’ he whispers, once the figure has disappeared.

‘He’s a coward, isn’t he? And it doesn’t sound like he was there because he loved them. More because it was an easy life. Hopefully you’ve scared him enough to make
him realise staying away is his only option.’

Gabe nods. ‘Thanks. For believing me. And for stopping me from doing something I would have regretted. I hate the fact I came so close.’

‘The most important thing is that you didn’t give in to that darkness. You were only trying to protect the people J loved, remember. But what will you do now?’

‘Stay in town for a while, I guess. Check that he really has left for good. But after that, I think it’s over for me and Barcelona. It’s now my ex-favourite place in the
world.’ He looks up at the sky. ‘Drop dead gorgeous, still, but time for me to go.’

I wonder if it’s time for Javier to leave Soul Beach, too? This
must
be enough now. Justice has been done.

Even though the explosions have started up again, the street feels calm. As though J’s father going has made everything lighter.

Of course, it means J will leave tonight. I feel a catch in my throat: the idea of the Beach without Javier’s edgy humour and the vulnerability I know lies behind that, makes me want to
cry. Whatever happens with Zoe at her apartment, I have to get online to say goodbye before the next Soul Beach sunset. Javier deserves that.

But before the sadness overwhelms me, I force myself to focus on the good that’s been done here tonight. I was so convinced something was going to go wrong. That someone might lose their
life . . .

And it didn’t happen.

Suddenly, everything is brighter.

‘I should go and find my friends,’ I say, eventually.

Gabe squeezes my hand. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing here, or how you found me, Alice. Maybe you’re an angel, a figment of my imagination.’

‘I’m real. All five foot five of me. Angels don’t order chocolate brownies.’

Gabe laughs. ‘I think you’ve done your work on earth here tonight, Alice. Time for you to enjoy the
Correfoc
. You’ve earned it.’

Barcelona’s air reeks of gunpowder, and the whole population of the city seems to be packed into a single road. By the time I reach Via Laietana, I can only move when the
rest of the crowd does too. I don’t feel like an individual anymore. I’m part of something bigger.

It’s about fifty per cent terrifying and fifty per cent exhilarating. For the first time I’m excited about the fiesta. What happened with Gabe took me to the edge. I was so
frightened history would repeat itself, but now my body is flooded with hope. Tonight feels lucky. And in a couple of hours I might finally find the evidence that could lead me to my sister’s
murderer, thanks to Zoe.

So maybe I can enjoy this fire run for what it is – a celebration of light.

The grand buildings on either side have clusters of people at almost every window, on the balconies, or even perched (just) on narrow stonework ledges.

The firecrackers sound more distant; we’re packed in too tightly for anyone to let them off in the crowd.

Despite everything Zoe said, I hadn’t imagined it’d be on this scale. The little kids have the best positions on the shoulders of dads or granddads. Many wear scarves around their
faces, like junior bank robbers. A few have full-face screens, like bee-keepers wear masks, with fireproof fabric strips hanging down to protect their hair.

I’ve stopped shivering and started sweating as I try to make it towards the Metro – that’s where Lewis and the others are, according to the text he sent. It’s only a few
hundred metres but it could take me an hour at this rate. And the fiesta is due to begin any minute now. Even if I didn’t know the time, I’d know from the excited faces of the kids that
the world is about to explode into flames.

The chatter is almost deafening. I hear Spanish but also German, Chinese, French. And English? It might be Cara and the others, but I can’t see anything except the M for Metro sign above
the crowd. I try to head towards it.

The lines along the street are already three or four people deep. And on a wide road that must be at least as long and grand as Oxford Street, that’s one hell of a gathering.

Then I see him.

‘Lewis!’

He’s crouching on top of a phone box, along with three more guys with cameras. There’s not really room for
any
of them, but they’ve taken a corner each.

‘LEWIS!’

He hears me, but doesn’t see me, even though he’s scanning the crowd. I try to wave but there isn’t room for me to raise my arms. Right now he’s like a lighthouse in the
sea of people. The angles of his face are lit by the street lights, and his hair has been styled upwards by the breeze so it looks even wilder than usual.

Lewis is one of a kind.

‘Alice!’ He sees me at last and grins and waves so hard he almost loses his balance on the edge of the box. He grins even wider, laughing at his own near miss.

I don’t know what I’d do without him.

Gradually, I manage to move towards the box and he points just beyond it.

Someone grabs my arm suddenly. It’s Cara.

‘Hey, mystery girl. Where did you get to? We thought you were going to miss it!’

She’s wearing Ade’s thick blue shirt now, thank goodness. Her legs are still bare from the knees downwards but at least her top half’s covered. That was the only thing about
the fiesta that was really worrying me, but now I know she’ll be OK. She’s too close to Ade, but in this crowd, I guess you could just think they were being pushed together by
accident.

At first I can’t see the other two, but then I spot Sahara skulking next to the wall of a bank, her shoulders hunched over as though the fire’s already started and she’s trying
to protect herself. Her hair hangs in damp strands against her face. I head towards her and when she sees me, she manages a wan smile.

‘Thank God you’re here, Alice. I thought we’d lost you.’

I can smell her sweat above the musky perfume she wears. The two together make her smell more animal than human.

‘No. I just felt the need to be alone for a little while,’ I lie.

‘Why don’t you come a bit closer? I’ll help you get out of the way later if it gets too much.’

Sahara doesn’t answer but she lets me pull her towards the edge of the parade. When Ade sees her, his face is blank: no pleasure at seeing his girlfriend, and no greeting. He lets go of
Cara’s hand so suddenly that her arm drops to her side, and she jumps. But then Cara notices Sahara too and I see she understands.

‘Where’s Zoe?’ I ask Sahara.

‘Gone to fetch water, I think.’

‘I can do better than that.’ Ade reaches into his messenger bag and brings out cans of beer he bought earlier, and I hold one up against my forehead. It cools me down straight
away.

Everyone’s facing the top of the street now. It slopes upwards so we can’t really see where it ends.

‘Can you hear it?’ Cara calls out. ‘I think I can hear it beginning.’

‘Not yet,’ says a voice.

I turn round to see Zoe, holding a thin blue carrier bag with water bottles in it. She pushes back her glove to check her watch. ‘The procession starts at the very top of the street in
about forty-five seconds’ time. It’s led by locals from
Correfoc
groups. They make costumes, play the drums. Like Morris dancers on acid.’

Lewis smiles. ‘So what do
we
do?’

‘Yeah, what happens next?’ Cara asks, and this time, Zoe hears the question.

‘Run with the dragons and the devils,’ she says. ‘Try not to get burned.’

‘We can just watch them, right?’ Sahara asks. ‘I hate it when my hair smells of smoke.’

The look Zoe gives her could shatter glass. ‘That’s pretty much the whole point, Sahara. It’s not just smoke. You’ll stink of fireworks, too, by the time it’s over.
And maybe burned flesh.’ Now she’s staring at Cara’s exposed legs. ‘The tourists are the worst. They get drunk, then don’t realise how badly they’ve been singed
until they wake up next morning covered in blisters.’

‘I’m mainly covered up now,’ Cara insists.

Sahara shakes her head. ‘Cara’s not going anywhere near the actual fire. Nor Alice. We promised your parents we’d act in
loco parentis
.’ She scowls at Ade. Maybe
she’s hoping to make Cara sound like a little kid, to put him off.

It’s a bit late for that . . .

We hear what sounds like thunder in the distance.

‘Is that kick-off?’ Ade calls out.

Zoe shakes her head. ‘Soon. Very soon.’

‘LEWIS?’ Ade calls up. ‘You coming down and into the fray with me? I reckon it’s going to be men-only in there.’

‘Official photographer, mate. I’m not losing my place,’ Lewis tells him.

Cara nudges me and points at where Lewis is gripping the side of the phone box. ‘Nice muscle definition in those arms. I’d say Professor Geek’s been working out. Maybe
he’s trying to impress someone?’

I pretend not to hear.

‘The Metro is a good meeting place, if we lose each other,’ Zoe says, though I suspect losing us wouldn’t be much of a blow to her. ‘Now, anyone who’s coming in,
it’s definitely time to get into position.’

I grab her sleeve. ‘As soon as this is over, we go to your flat, right?’

She nods. ‘I can show you everything I’ve discovered . . .’ She hesitates, then leans in closer, ‘Wish I’d done it sooner. You were right. We can work faster, the
two of us together.’

‘We’ll get there, Zoe. You’ve been doing this on your own for too long.’

She smiles at me, the first genuine smile I think I’ve ever seen on her face. ‘Already it feels less of a burden. And safer, even. Sorry I’ve been such a stubborn
cow.’

I’m about to reply but the noises are getting louder: a constant low rumble, together with explosions and screams. So I squeeze her hand instead.

I can’t really see what’s happening at the start of the procession – too many people in woolly hats and bandannas in my way. Then there’s a huge cheer and as I crane my
neck to my right, the crowd is silhouetted against a supernatural white glow.

There’s nothing supernatural about the smell. Is it gunpowder?

Sahara’s eyes are wide now, and she’s backing away, pulling the balaclava out of her pocket and squeezing it down over her face. Ade looks almost amused at how ridiculous she looks.
He pulls a scarf out of his messenger bag, and a pair of sunglasses, and Zoe repositions
her
scarf so it covers her nose and mouth. Her eyes flash when a firecracker explodes nearby.

‘Wish us luck,’ Ade says to Cara. I’m still standing next to her, so I see him use the cover of the crowd to reach out and squeeze her waist. It could be nothing more than a
friendly gesture, except his hand stays there
just
too long.

Despite the racket, I hear her sigh with pleasure. But she does stay back from the crowd, at least. For once, my best friend seems to have her sensible head on.

There’s a new sound coming towards us: drumming. While the firecrackers whine and bang chaotically, the drum beat is rhythmic. Despite the fancy buildings, and the familiar brands being
advertised on the store fronts, this feels like a primitive place now.

Then I see the Devil for the first time.

Or
a
devil; there’s more than one. Hundreds of them, in fact – a Satanic procession stretching a mile or more up the road. But this devil, my first, ticks all the boxes: red
face, black-rimmed eyes, horns growing out of his head and a knife-sharp metal trident that shoots sparks in every direction.

People jump into his path, shrieking with delight or fear or both. I’m just far enough back to feel safe, but I can see his face. He’s smiling and I realise that I’m less
afraid; he’s having too much of a good time to look truly satanic. He’s loving the dance, and the crowd is loving him back, as he growls and leaps at them, waving the trident as it
lights up in flames. Even the little girl in front of me on her dad’s shoulders is reaching out towards him. Well, perhaps they’re related; she has her own pair of knitted horns on her
head.

It’s magnetic. The crazy energy draws me in. On Lewis’s phone box, another photographer is climbing up, even though there is no room left on top. They sway like drunks, but two of
the guys reach down to pull him up. For a moment, it looks as though they’re going to fall off. I hold my breath.

Somehow they manage to stay upright, grabbing each other and twisting and turning.

Ade and Zoe are lost somewhere in this wild crowd, running with the demons and the beasts. Cara’s some way ahead of me, too. I can just see her dyed white hair. To my surprise,
Sahara’s at my side, pushing forward as though she can’t help herself.

‘That was close. Lewis almost fell off the kiosk, did you see?’

She gives me an odd look. ‘It was like they were
dancing
, wasn’t it, Alice?’ Her voice is muffled by the balaclava.

‘Dancing?’ I ask, momentarily baffled.

Sahara moves the fabric up off her face. ‘Like the tango dancers in the park. Clinging onto each other as though their lives depended on it. Which, in this case, they sort of
did.’

‘Ah, I see what you . . .’ and then I realise what she’s said. ‘The dancers?’

‘Don’t tell me you didn’t see them, Alice,’ She’s staring at me.

‘Who?’ Does she mean Ade and Cara?

‘The dancers. They were so . . .
passionate.
Fiery!
’

Oh, God. What if she
did
see them? I can’t ask without giving away what I saw myself. Though surely if she did see her boyfriend kissing another girl, she would have confronted him.
No one would be able to keep that to themselves, would they? Unless they were planning to get their own back some other way!

Before I can work out what to say, the crowd surges forward. A dragon larger than a racehorse moves towards us, its head tossing and turning, firecrackers bursting from its nose and mouth.

I look for Cara’s white hair. She wasn’t that far ahead – and I should warn her to be careful. Sahara might not mean what I think she means, but it’s better to be safe
than sorry.