Breakfast had been cleaned away, and I stood slicing fruit for the kids’ welcome platter. Strawberries in quarters, melons in 8ths, and then 48ths, we had been doing this for years, everything was accounted for, down to the last slice of melon. I popped one in my mouth. I didn’t even like honeydew.

“Anyone got the time?” I called.

“A quarter to two.” Dave sang in-between banjo chords.

“Should start arriving from two.” I said to no one in particular. “Who’s up there welcoming the parents?”

“Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, ‘cause you really are my dearest friend, Jenny…” Dave sang in response.

“Thanks ‘Duet Dave’.” I kept chopping.

Robin came through the hearth like an arthritic whirlwind. That is, with such a presence he was liable to hurt himself before anyone else. “Alright, remember we are modelling calm, and togetherness, let’s keep it calm and together people.”

“Robin, slow down. Here;” I said, getting him a mug of mead, “Have this, you’ll need your energy.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I should stop.” He sat and began massaging Metta’s ears. “What would I do without you Jack?”

“Just as good a job without the undertone of alcoholism Bobby, don’t worry, you got this.” I craned my neck to see a tiny body with a large backpack attached to it, bobbing its way down the valley. “Someone new's here, I’ll go say hi.” I turned to move but was stopped by Robin's wiry hand clamped on my calf.

“Don’t fucking leave me, stay. Listen.” He said, one hand gently stroking Metta, the other digging into my leg.

“Robin,” I said, trying to pry his hand away, “Robin you’re hurting me, let me go.” I couldn’t get purchase under his fingers.

“Binding Roots.” He said, as he slumped deeper into his chair. From under his paper-thin skin ivy and bindweed protruded, leaving gashes as it did so, wrapping its way across my leg.

“What the fuck Robin? Illusory Phantom.” I showed him Metta pining for attention, sitting dutifully by the kitchen tent, safely away from me. He jumped up.

“Metta, Metta. I’m sorry honey, come here, what’s wrong?” He went to wrap his arms around her and found himself with smoke slipping through his fingers.

“You lost yourself there mate.” I said, spacing myself around the circle opposite him. “Get yourself another drink.” I pointed to our ample supply.

“You know Maja’s coming today?” Robin said, forgetting anything that had happened.

“Yeah, buddy, I know she’s coming.”

“Excited?”

“I am yes Robin. Go meditate a bit. We need to be calm, remember?”

“I’ll go, I’ll go.” He left with all the energy of a moody 14 year old, cradling his bloodied hand.

I turned to see Andre whittling on the bench. I hadn’t noticed him the entire exchange.

“Thanks for the help mate. Almost got beat up by an 80 year old man. Good thing you’ve got my back Andre.” I said, moving back to the kitchen to look busy as I watched the kid still slowly bobbing his way towards us.

“You look like you had it handled. That phantom’s a dirty trick. I know why you did so well in the war now.” Andre said, not looking up from his piece of wood.

“Yeah well, I’m sure you did alright for yourself too. You’re what, 7’0 250kg?*”

“I can only hit one person at once, I bet you can show a lot of dead loved ones like that. I break bones, you break minds, right?” He stayed hunched.

“Right. Hey maybe let’s keep it light for the first one, start as we mean to go on huh?”

“Right.” With that Andre stood, head brushing the canvas roof, “Hello!” he bellowed, he may not have Dave’s projection but a lot of man means a lot of lung. A tiny hand waved from amidst an old military-style orb of a bag, he looked rather like a spider carrying its eggs.

“Hi!” I joined in, with rather less power.

“Hiya, is this Goblin Combe?” the boy said in a squeaky voice, can’t have been older than 11.

“Andre, I can’t read, could you tell me what that sign says?” I said in mock-embarrassment.

“Huh? Oh, it says ‘Goblin Combe starts here!’ looks like the place Jack.”

“Oh thank God, I was worried I was in the wrong place, looks like you’re here duckling, but before we can turn you into a Druid, I’m going to need to take two things from you, two things I’ve taken from every child who has ever walked these sacred grounds.” I stood above him, eyebrow raised.

“Anything, I just want to be a Druid like Mum.” Came back the defiant, yet still high-pitched response.

“I will take from you,” I paused letting the words sink in, “your name and favourite colour.”

“Oh! I’m Tawny and I like blue!”

“Tawny? Good name. I’m Jack, this is Andre,” I said.

“Blue? Good colour. Let me get your bag.” Andre added.

I went back to my position pretending to chop food as the bustle of camp continued and I could hear Andre’s explanation of where Tawny could put his tent, fading into the distance. Dave’s consistent backdrop of strumming continued unphased by the fight, or the exchange.

“Oh I thought I heard the old man say,

Leave her Johnny, leave her.

Oh tomorrow you will get your pay

And it's time for us to leave her,

Leave her Johnny, leave her,

Oh, leave her Johnny, leave her,

Oh the voyage is done and the winds don't blow

And it's time for us to leave her.”