Bob and Angie crash a party

They left the house with the downstairs lights on, and walked out into the inky blackness of the drive for the second time. Angie’s hand reached out to Bob’s in the dark and they walked close together in silence. Pointedly, Angie steered them away from the waterfront. The party was still in full swing, the thump of the bass reverberating across the darkness. Bob wondered what Mrs Hodges would say about that. It took him several minutes to realise that Angie was deliberately homing in on the thudding bass.

“The night is still young” she whispered. “Let’s crash the party.”

It was obvious where the party was – a large house spilling light from every window, with a lot of people moving about inside.

They entered a dark driveway, with several cars parked outside. They took time to explore the garden, emboldened by the raucous sounds of revelry coming from the house. They walked around the back of the house. Shadowy figures moved in the in the darkness of the back garden. As they approached the house, a security light flicked on, exposing a couple half naked in the back seat of a car parked there, who started and scrambled to cover themselves. Not wanting to spoil anyone’s fun, Bob and Angie stole in through the back door.

Inside, it became obvious the party was in its death throes. A few people were still gallantly trying to drag it out a bit longer, but most seemed to have passed out or paired off. In one room a few people danced erratically to the deafening beat that had drawn Bob and Angie to the party, while a pornographic film played on the large television, the sound turned down. A suspicious odour of vomit was detectable in some rooms, smashed glass crunched under foot, mixed with the earth from up-ended pot plants. “I hope someone’s parents are a way for a very long time” remarked Angie as they drifted from room to room, feeling like ghosts.

Bob ventured upstairs in search of a bathroom. He did not know why Angie wanted to come here. He needed to pee, and he wanted to go to bed – he was already exhausted by the day’s events and wondering uninvited through a houseful of drunken teenagers seemed a waste of time. He found the bathroom, which smelt overwhelmingly of mint. The light bulb did not respond when he flicked the switch – dead or broken. He went in, anyway, leaving the door open so he could see what he was doing, raised the toilet seat and enjoyed the pleasure of release. There was liquid spilled across the floor. He recoiled in disgust, thinking it was urine, then realised where the fresh minty smell was coming from. Someone had emptied mouth wash all over the floor. Looking around he saw further signs of devastation: toothpaste smeared in long loops across the mirror, toiletries emptied into the bath, the glass door of the shower cracked. The damage was no longer funny, he thought. Someone’s wrecked this place, and there is going to be Hell to pay.

He went in search of Angie, but he was stopped on the stairs by one of the revellers, a girl of about seventeen, he reckoned. “Where’s Alex?” she asked plaintively. “Have you seen Alex?” Bob tried to push past her, but she grabbed onto his arm. “Do you know Alex? I don’t know where he is. I need to find him.” Bob shooke her off, but she trailed after him, snivelling slightly. “There are people here who weren’t invited. They’re doing things, I don’t think Alex would like it. Smashing stuff.”

As if to prove her point – though there was plenty of evidence already – there was a crash from downstairs, followed by a cheer. “Then call the police” Bob replied. “I’m surprised they haven’t been here already, with that noise.”

The girl wouldn’t leave him, however. “Will you come with me?” she asked. “I’m a bit scared of all these people down there. They’re pretty mean.”

Bob allowed her to latch on to his arm again and she followed him down the stairs. She was wide eyed, he suspected that it was something more than fear that was making her act like this. “Why don’t you go home?” he asked.

The girl started to cry. “This is my home” she replied. There was another crash from a room at the back of the house.

“We’ll call the police” Bob decided. He felt, all of a sudden, mature and decisive. Hell, he was only a few years older than this kid, but he had to make decisions. Calling the police because a party was getting out of hand. He had never thought he was doing that. “Can you show me where to find a phone?”

The girl nodded, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve – that top looks like it cost far too much to be used as a hanky, Bob thought, and took him by the hand and lead him down the hall way to a room at the back of a house. It was a small study, with cases full of well bound books on the wall, a computer and a telephone. It seemed to be relatively untouched. Bob dialled and spoke to a bored sounding person who said he would send a car round as soon as possible, but in a tone that suggested this might be a while. Bob wanted to find Angie now. If things were as wild as the girl said, he wanted to know where she was. He told the girl to stay in the study and went out to look for Angie.

As he walked down the hall the music was cut off suddenly. Confused voices filled the void it left, raised in anger. The sound of breaking glass could be heard. A female screamed. Christ, thought Bob, what the Hell is going on here?

He opened a door at random. It was a small, dark room. There was a window at the far end, out of which he could see the night sky. There were people in the room. He heard a grunt, saw a shadow move in the pool of darkness by the wall. He heard someone shouting outside and the sound of feet running past the house. As they ran past the window, a security light flicked on, and the light fell through the window, just enough to light up a woman’s face as she knelt on the floor in front of the man in the shadows. For a moment he thought it was Angie, then he realised it was not. He did not know her. She scowled at him. “Do you mind?” she said, curtly. Bob closed the door.

He found Angie in the garden, with a group of the party goers. They were sharing a joint, watching objects being thrown out of the upstairs windows by unseen hands. She acknowledged Bob’s arrival by snuggling up to him and yawning. “I’m bored” she said. “Lets go home.”

“That might be a good idea,” he said. “The police are on their way.” This was overheard by the people standing around him – mostly teenagers, he thought, some looking frightened, others excited, as if they wanted to join in the mayhem but lacked the courage. On hearing the word ‘Police’ the little knot of people began to break up, individuals and couples drifting away. Bob touched one young man on the arm as he made to go. “Do you know Alex?” he asked. “Do you know where he is?” The boy shrugged and walked away.

“We’d better go if the police are coming.” Angie tugged at his arm. “I’m really stoned. I don’t want to have to deal with them.” Bob ignored her. “Bob!” she yelled, suddenly flaring into rage. “Lets go. Now. I want to go.”

He shrugged her off. “There’s a girl in there who’s out of her mind on something. It’s her house that’s being trashed. I want to check she’s okay.”

“Oh yeah?” Angie was incoherent with rage which seemed to have come out of no-where. “Is that where you were? Screwing some little bitch? You know there are, like fourteen year olds at this party? Is that what turns you on, you freak?”

He walked away from her. “Go on then, you sick bastard. Go back to your little jail bait bitch.” She started to cry. Bob stopped, unsure what to do for a moment, then carried on into the house. Angie was high as a kite but no danger to anyone. He had no idea what drugs the girl might be on and he wanted to make sure she was okay before he left, and tell her that the police were on the way.

She was still lying on the leather couch in the study. She looked at him drowsily. “Oh. I thought it was Alex.” She looked at him uncertainly. “Are you meant to be here? Were you invited?” She looked frightened. He sat down beside her on the couch. “No. We were just passing by. We heard the noise and we thought there might be trouble so we came to have a look. The police are on their way, they’ll be here soon.”

She reached out and touched his hand with her own tiny, pale hand. “Thank you for coming to see we were alright. We are, I think, but I think some things got broken. Alex will be able to sort it out I think. I wonder where he is?”

“Who is Alex?”

“He’s my boyfriend. He’s been staying here while mum and dad are away. They don’t like him” she continued drowsily. “Because he’s older. They think he’s bad, but he’s sweet to me.”

“What’s your name?” Bob asked.

“Beth.”

“Will you be alright here until the police come?”

“Oh, I don’t want the police … Alex might get into trouble, because I’m too young.” She grabbed his arm urgently. “Find Alex for me. I need to see him.”

Bob left the study. As he stood in the hall, unsure of what to do, the door he had opened earlier opened again, and a man and a woman came out, adjusting their clothes. The woman sneered at Bob. “Are you the creep who butted in on us?” she snapped. Her voice had a harsh, Glasgow taint. Bob shook his head, then spoke to the man, who was still fastening his trousers.

“Are you Alex?”

The man nodded. He was tall, skinny but hard looking, his head shaved. He wore a tee-shirt which exposed the tattoos on his arms. He took a step towards Bob, looking threatening. “What’d you want?” he said, his voice calm but loaded with menace. Bob made a decision.

“Someone told me to tell you the police are on their way. Someone called them. I was told to tell you you’d better clear out before they get here.”

“Fuck” said Alex. “Cheers mate.” With that he turned and walked down the hall and out the door. The Glasgow woman glared at Bob, studying his features. “If I ever see you again I’ll have you put in hospital” she snarled, then followed Alex out the door.