When Pete and I got back to the main room in the trailer, Maggie was much the worse for wear. She looked over at me from where she was leaning against Reggie, shot Daphne what seemed to be a genuinely dirty look, and then returned her attention to me. She appeared to be upset about something. I suppose drugs will do that to you. I remember once reading that they made you paranoid. The MD in me noted her dilated pupils and, for some reason, felt the urge to take her blood pressure. But that wouldn't really have fitted with the party mood, even if I'd had a cuff in the back pocket of my jeans.

Daphne and Michael were still deep in conversation. She flashed me one of those knee-weakening smiles as our eyes met, making me sit down a little heavily, before Pete and I immersed ourselves in conversation once again. The debauched vocalist, Timothy, made some comment from across the table about keeping the noise down next time, and I thought we'd been playing the music too loud until I realised exactly what kind of noise he was referring to and blushed. Pete told his bandmate that we hadn't been doing *that*, and even if we had, at least he (Pete) bothered to use a private room. Timothy raised a nonchalant middle finger and then reinserted his tongue into the throat of his lap-warmer.

And so the evening progressed.

Daphne and I exercised our silent communication skills and decided to head back over to the Winnebago at around midnight. The party was only just getting going, and the trailer was becoming crowded. Michael offered to walk with us. Naturally enough, Maggie didn't want to come. She was curled around Reggie, who had fallen asleep in the corner, and she was by now sharing saliva alternately with Timothy and the young lady whose name I had yet to learn. She was ... I believe the expression is 'stoned to hell'.

Apparently, for the individual, the experience is a humorous one.

Daphne looked at Michael, who raised an eyebrow. Then she looked at me. I pinched my lips together and felt a little concerned. I wasn't so much shocked by the clear intention Maggie had for a ménage à trois, but more by the possibility that Daphne's friend might not be in any state to make sensible decisions.

Daphne cast about herself helplessly, seemingly unaware of what to do.

"Right, Miss Trent, party's over!" I announced, making a decision and reaching over Tim to grasp Maggie under the arms. I was grateful when Michael moved around the table to help me, as it had become clear as soon as I grabbed Maggie that I'd never lift her from that angle. Between the two of us, we extracted her from Reggie and her two play fellows. There were a few slurred noises of complaint, but nothing serious, and soon Michael and I stood with Maggie between us, her arms held firmly over our shoulders.

We left the trailer and picked our way back out of the secure area to the main site. Maggie spent the walk (or in her case, the drag) telling both Michael and myself how nice it was to have real men to take care of her. Daphne rolled her eyes a lot.

The Indigo Haze set was due to take place the next day at four in the afternoon. Michael promised to meet us afterwards for a chat and then left us beside the Winnebago. Daphne and I got Maggie inside and installed her on the passenger chair while we made up the beds, then we pulled off her boots and tucked her up in the back. She was asleep before we could stand back to admire our handiwork. I hadn't needed to put someone so helpless to bed since the time Maris had decided it would be fun to spike the punch bowl with absinthe, and I'd come home to find eight members of the Ermine-Troupe fast asleep in the drawing room, completely naked beneath their real fur costume accessories. She'd spent weeks after that, telling me they'd all suffered food poisoning from the pearl onions. I just wish I'd taken pictures. My divorce might have gone through more quickly, with that kind of evidence.

Maggie snored lightly and then mumbled and turned over, bringing me back to the present and allowing me another smile with Venus herself.

"Share a nightcap with me?" I asked.

"Sounds good," Daphne agreed. We switched off the light at the back of the bus and, leaving Maggie to sleep off her foray into the world of illicit substances, carried a bottle of cognac and two glasses to the front seats.

Someone was looking down favourably on me. I'd been granted one of those cherished one-on-one moments.