Soul Fire

twenty minutes. People were staring at me,’ Sahara laughs.
    ‘Cara smiles. ‘Well, we had a great afternoon at the beach, didn’t we, Alice?’
    I frown at her. I never agreed to be her alibi. Then again, I don’t want to make Sahara suspicious.
    ‘Time’s gone so fast today,’ I say vaguely.
    ‘And we had a lovely late picnic lunch,’ Cara adds.
    Sahara frowns. ‘A liquid lunch, was it?’
    I look at Cara: she seems slightly cross-eyed, and her make-up’s on the smudged side.
    Cara pulls a face. ‘We are on holiday , in case you’ve forgotten.’
    ‘All the same, Cara,’ I say, ‘Zoe says this fire festival can get quite out of control. We should be careful. And she reckons we need to cover up a bit.’
    Sahara holds up a balaclava and red scarf she bought earlier, and Ade is pulling on a thick blue cotton shirt with long cuffs that will cover his hands.
    ‘Blimey, Alice, give it a rest. It’s only a party. Seriously, mate, you never used to be such a worrier,’ Cara says.
    Sahara stares at her. ‘Is it any wonder she worries about the people she cares about after what happened to Meggie? Honestly, Cara. You don’t deserve her as a friend if you
can’t understand that.’
    Cara blushes. ‘Sorry,’ she says to me. ‘OK. You win. I’ll cover up when it’s time.’
    ‘We’re still going to have a great night,’ I say. ‘I know we will. But there’s safety in numbers, eh? So long as we all stick together, we’ll have the time of
our lives.’

43
    All the firecrackers in the world must have been shipped to Barcelona for tonight.
    And now the sun’s going down, they’re being lit across the city. The flashes are almost constant, so it feels like day again.
    The bars are full except for an Irish pub with a terrace where people are clustered round tall tables. Even though the evening’s sultry, the locals are dressed in cold weather layers,
while the tourists wear thin cotton shirts. Suddenly I see how Gabe could tell I was foreign; we stand out a mile among the smart Catalans.
    Still no message from Gabe. I’ve been checking my phone every couple of minutes. I even texted to remind him, but I’ve heard nothing back.
    ‘Zoe definitely knows we’re here, does she?’ Lewis asks. It’s ten past eight now. We were supposed to meet at eight, so we could find a spot with a good view and a
fast escape route. You don’t want to get lost in the crowd , she’d warned us.
    Sahara reaches for her phone and texts Zoe again. ‘She’s normally punctual.’
    Lewis and I exchange a look. He’s arranged for the Denial of Service attack on Burning Truths to start at eight o’clock, because we thought she’d be safely away from her
computer by then, but what if she’s decided not to join us? Not only will we miss our best chance to talk to her, but she might panic, fight the Denial of Service, stay away.
    The idea that all this might be for nothing, that I could go home knowing no more about Meggie’s death than I do now, makes me dizzy. Lewis reaches out to touch my hand.
    ‘We’ll sort this, don’t worry,’ he whispers. ‘Even if we have to go round to her flat and confront her there. The trip won’t be in vain, I promise
you.’
    Cara has seen his hand on mine, and she raises her eyebrows at me, as though I’m up to no good – when, of course, it’s her that’s putting herself at risk. OK, so Sahara
didn’t see anything earlier, but that was pure luck. And if Cara and Ade were brazen enough to kiss in broad daylight, then I’m scared of what they might do under cover of darkness.
    I take my hand away from Lewis’s, and lean towards Cara. ‘Let’s forget about the boys tonight. I’d rather be with you than with anyone alive.’
    At first I don’t recognise the bandit who arrives at our table.
    ‘Zoe?’ Sahara says uncertainly, leaning forward to look into the bandit’s eyes.
    ‘Who the hell else would it be?’ Only her voice gives her away. Her bald head is covered like it always is, but she has a second lime green scarf tied in an upside down triangle
round her face and neck, plus a thick ski jacket, black leather gloves, old jeans and ankle boots. She must be boiling hot.
    ‘We were about to give up on you,’ Sahara scolds. ‘It’s almost time for the parade to begin.’
    ‘I told you before, it’s not a bloody parade!’ she snaps. If anything, she’s edgier tonight than she’s ever been. Has she worked out what Lewis has done – or
is something