(THE PARTY)
1987. 18 years old.
Janice and I walked (or rather staggered ) all the way from my Mothers house - taking turn about to carry the bag of records - past all the shops and pubs and down Leith Walk until we eventually arrived at Leith Links.
*Where are we going?* I asked.
*Were nearly there* said Jan irritably.
*You said that ages ago Niece.* I could tell she was lost.
*Shut up!*
I was dressed in her leather trousers/ a baggy black jumper/ black leather jacket/ black shades and black shoes. My hair was tied back into a girlish pony-tail.
Jan had allowed herself a little more variety in her choice of colours. Her hair was spiked up and she had on a red and black Minnie the Minx jumper/ black miniskirt/ red boots/ black handbag and crimson lipstick. She looked like an angry bumble bee. (Id wanted her to wear my cute new girlie-pink dress but tonight she was feeling *pure punk*).
*Ken what we should do?* asked Jan/ stopping to flick something from my cheek.
*Eh?*
*I should pack in the hairdressers and we should fuck off to France or something. You know: go buskin n that?*
*Maybe.* I was getting used to hearing all her schemes. Nothing ever came of them.
*Im gettin pretty good on guitar though eh?*
*You need to practice more* I said.
*But Im doing no bad eh?*
I nodded and we continued to stagger slowly along. I could hear something now. Music.
*There it is* said Jan/ pointing triumphantly in the vague direction of the noise.
I was starting to realise I didnt feel too great. My stomach was raw and I had the worst migraine I could remember. I wondered whether it was something to do with the amyl nitrate. The idea panicked me. Maybe I was about to have some kind of *medical episode* and sprawl dead at my best friends feet. *I dont feel well.* I said.
Niece pulled abruptly on my arm. *Youre awright. Cmoan!*
When we arrived at the house she walked straight in and I followed. The place was a mess. There were crisps and empty beer cans all over the floor. I was led into the kitchen and introduced to Sharon the birthday-girl. Sharon the birthday-girl looked ill. There was a huge long-haired biker trying to undress her. Sharon either didnt care or was too drunk to notice. Seeing us she pulled away from the man. She shrieked/ flinging her arms around Jan. *Hiya Niece honey. How you daein?*
Jan hugged her and pointed at me. *Thats ma pal Rachel.*
*Hiya* giggled Sharon flinging her arms around me.
I hugged her back. *Happy Birthday.*
Jan led me through to the sitting room. I put the bag of records down by the hi-fi and sat cross-legged on the floor amongst a bunch of stoners. Students. I noticed that one of them - a kind of vaguely attractive blond guy - was skinning up a joint. He had everything he needed (Rizla papers/ fags/ lighter and a fat brown lump of hash wrapped in cellophane) balanced on a record sleeve on his knees. Pink Floyds *Shine On You Crazy Diamond* was blaring from the two expensive looking speakers on the wall.
*They were shite after Syd Barrett left eh?* I mumbled towards the blond.
He looked a little put out and kind of half-shrugged one of his shoulders. This was obviously one of his favourite albums. I slumped down into myself. Jan grabbed a bottle of wine from the table and sat down beside me. Taking a quick swig she handed it to me and I slugged back/ wiping the back of my hand over my lips as I gazed around the room.
I watched the people dancing/ arguing/ kissing/ talking/ smoking dope and laughing. Flashing lights and wild colours. Shadows swinging round the walls. The blond was heating the lump of hash with his lighter. The smoke wafted across into my nostrils. I already felt a horrid churning sensation in my stomach. The vomit began to rise in my throat. I swallowed it back and got shakily to my feet. Jan looked up at me and I slowly shook my head. My brain seemed to be swelling and pressing hard against the inside of my skull. I quickly left the room.
The birthday-girl was sitting on her biker friends knees on the stairs. She looked as ill as I felt.
*Wheres the... wheres the toilet?*
Sharon pointed up the stairs. *First door.* A thought formed in her drunken brain and she suddenly scowled. *Who are you?*
*Im Janices pal. Rachel.* I didnt have time for all this silliness.
Sharons face lit up. *Aye? Is Niece here like?* She giggled. *Im sooooo happy. All ma wee pals are here.* The hairy geezer was licking her ear.
I quickly pushed past the pair of them and climbed unsteadily towards the bathroom. There was someone inside. Some fat pissed-up guy was lying snoring in the bath. He seemed grotesque to me at this moment in time. Quite astonishingly ugly: greasy ginger hair matted to his forehead/ his bare podgy feet resting crossed between the taps. Before Id even got to the toilet the vomit was rising in my throat. I threw up the lid and dropped to my knees just as it all hurled out of my mouth into the pan. This happened four times before my stomach was fully emptied.
*You awright hen?* came Gingers voice echoing from the bath tub.
*No* I said/ wiping my mouth with a length of white toilet paper. I took off my shades/ put them in the inside pocket of my jacket and rubbed my eyes. My stomach muscles were sore from the exertion/ my throat feeling like it was being stripped by acid. I got to my feet and stood for five minutes or so at the sink/ splashing cold water on my face and round my neck then brushing my teeth with the cleanest looking of the three toothbrushes on the window-sill. This made me feel a little more human.
As I descended the stairway I noticed a nervous looking little guy who was moving things from the kitchen out the front door. Sharon and her hairy man-friend had disappeared. I drunkenly stood and watched him for a while going backwards and forwards with stuff. On his final journey he came through from the kitchen with a toaster/ an iron/ some ornaments and a pile of records.