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A Good Party

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            “I’m sorry about that,” Juliet apologised, sitting perched on the side of the bath, combing out long blonde hair while Liz scrubbed off her eyeliner. “If I’d known Fiona was going to have that much vodka at her party, I wouldn’t have said I’d go. Or you.” (A pause while she wrenched the comb through a very large tangle.) “Where did she get it from, anyway? I know she’s the oldest in the year, but Jesus Christ... She's way too baby-faced to buy it herself. And I’m sorry about Cosimo, or whatever his name was-“

 

            “Don’t worry,” Liz said, with a yawn halfway through the ‘worry’, and poked herself in the eye with the cleanser-soaked cotton wool. “Ow. Actually, punching that tosser was the high point of the night.” She dropped the cotton wool into a bin, and briskly brushed her teeth. “C’mon, let’s get to bed. It’s half past three in the morning, and I’m bloody glad your mum’s out or we’d be for it.”

 

            When Dr. Sayers checked on them at a quarter past seven, having just got back from Beijing, she found them curled up in Juliet’s bed. Juliet had stolen all the covers.

 

            Dr. Sayers concluded that it had been a very good party.