Tired bloodshot eyes peer back from the mirror. She clicks shut the toilet door and hesitates for a brief moment before reaching for the syringe.
Outside the music pounds. Now she feels good; young and alive threading her way through aerobic geriatrics. Long blonde hair frames an elfin face from which eyes, heavy with mascara, innocently gaze. Predators held back by their keepers look on faint with hunger.
She peers across the room; a brown check suit comes into focus. Middle aged, off the leash, a generation apart and ready to unwrap and devour like a chocolate cream. 'I say gorgeous, can I get you a drink?'
'Yeah all right.'
They move out into the kitchen and he opens the fridge. 'Champagne for a special occasion.'
'Oh yeah, so I'm a special occasion am I?'
'You certainly are sweetheart.' He passes her the bottle and takes two glasses from the shelf. They move back into the main room. A woman about thirty glides over and whispers in the man's ear. He sniggers and playfully smacks her bottom.
'Who's that then?'
'Just someone I know. Who did you come with?'
Without her glasses the room blurs. 'Oh, I err, some bloke I met the uvver night.'
'What's he do?'
'I dunno do I? Anyway what do you do?'
He motions her to a corner table away from the suits and strapless dresses talking as if their lives depend on it. 'Me? I'm the guest of honour.' The champagne cork pops and bubbling liquid cascades into her glass. 'And I've met the loveliest girl in the world.'
'Oh yeah. Where is she then?'
'I'm looking at her right now.'
'Piss off!'
'Look darling; you're the most beautiful girl here.'
'That's a bit different,' she says looking around the room. 'There ain't much to choose from.' Picking up the glass she gulps it straight down. 'Jeez, I was thirsty.' He smiles, refills her glass, and takes out a cigarette case.
'Dunno if I really like this,' she says drinking half. 'Tastes a bit like cider don't it? Anyhow what's all this guest of honour stuff?'
'That's why we're having the party, didn't you know?' He selects a cigarette and lights it from a gold lighter. 'I sold my business to the man who owns this house.'
'Oh yeah. Anyway what you going to do now?'
'Actually I'm planning to move to the Virgin Isles.' He stops as she splutters over her drink.
'You what?'
'What's so funny?'
'Nuffing. It's all this drink. I ain't used to it.'
A young man, looking the worst for wear, sways over to the table and drops into a chair. 'I wondered where you got to,' he slurs, reaching for the champagne. 'You don't mind do yer chief?' He picks up the bottle and upends into his mouth causing most of it to run down his shirt.
The older man shakes his head in disbelief. 'Let's get out of here.'
They step out from the open French windows and stand for a while on the terrace. Moonlight, briefly appearing through scudding clouds, bathes the sky silver and cream. She shivers; low cut dress and sling back shoes inadequate in the cold night air. Music and laughter drift out from the room before the door closes behind them. Holding a half full champagne glass she points unsteadily to a large ornate building, ghostly grey in the shadows at the end of the sweeping lawns.
'What's that place?'
The man flicks his cigarette into the bushes. 'Beautiful isn't it? It's the conservatory.'
She laughs coarsely. 'Oh yeah, what's that; an outside dunny?' The wind causes leaves to scurry around the concrete patio and she presses against him shivering. 'It's a bit cold out 'ere ain't it? I can 'ardly see a fing. Let's get back inside.'
'I'd like to show you the conservatory; it's warm there. Finish your drink and we'll have a quick look.'
She drains the glass in one swig and, with a giggle, throws it out on the grass. 'I'll leave that for the sweepers...Cummon then, let's go.' Grabbing his hand she pulls him forward. They walk along the path; shoes scrunching gravel, and up the conservatory steps until coming to heavy white doors. He takes out a key, unlocks the door and turns a large brass handle. Inside the air is warm and humid. Slumbering plants rest in the shadows lulled by a steady humming from the heating unit.
'Ooh it's dark, but you're right; it's lovely an' warm.' The girl looks around in the near darkness. 'I've been to one a these places wiv the school.'
His arm encircles her waist. 'You're a wonderful girl you know. I've been looking at you all night. I'm glad we left the party. It was becoming a bore and I didn't think much of your friend.'
'That's the bloke I came wiv. He's a wanker ain't he? Yeah, the music was getting on my nerves and all those oldies crapping on. You wouldn't 'ave a fag on yer wouldja?'
The man takes out his silver cigarette case. 'When I was talking to you before and told you I was planning to live in the Virgin Isles you laughed. Why did you do that?'
The question, directed in an upper class accent makes her feel important. She places a cigarette in her mouth and waits while he clicks his lighter. Holding the cigarette pretentiously she draws the cigarette smoke deep into her lungs and immediately starts coughing.
'Oh I, aherr, dunno, it just sounds funny I s'pose; virgin an' all that.'
They walk between the rows of plants until coming to a park bench just visible in the half light. The warm fetid atmosphere causes her head to swim and she drops onto the bench. Sounds of dripping water splash from a distant rock pool; she's a child again on the beach with her parents. He sits down wrapping an arm around her.
'You feeling okay?'
'Yeah, I'm all right. Bloody 'ard to breeve in 'ere ain't it? I'm worried about somefing but it don't matter; too late anyway. What was all that stuff you said about the Virgin whatsis?'
The small talk is beginning to get on his nerves but he welcomes the chance to get the conversation back onto a more personal level. 'Well, you see before man arrived, the Islands were like young virgins, pure and untouched.'
'Like me; I'm a virgin'
The audacious remark throws him for a few seconds and he lights a cigarette. 'Ah, well...err, anyway I'm thinking of moving there because I might only have a year or two to live.'
'Why what 'appened? You ain't got a disease 'ave yer?'
The man smiles. 'No, nothing like that; I strained my heart playing football and too much training. The doctors say I overdid it but apart from that I'm in great shape. That's why I sold my business. You're the only person who knows, apart from the doctor of course.'