The older the party got, the less any semblance of a celebration of the R.U. 486 bill it had. Apart from the occasional semi-topical song on the C.D. player, the party didn't particularly differ from any other that Rona had attended during her friendship with Hannah.

To his great surprise, Matt bumped into a couple of friends of his. There was much exuberance and declamations of "Hi, mate" and the shaking of hands before he remembered to introduce Rona, and then shortly thereafter the conversation turned into what for Rona was impenetrable string of names and reminiscences; she excused herself to get a drink and took her time about it.

There was a bottle of champagne open in the bath, where the drinks were being stored in several inches of crushed ice; it had just over a glass left in it - or, as Rona decided, thinking it would be a terrible waste to let it go flat, one very full glass. She poured it for herself into the tumbler she was holding in her hand and went back into the party.

Matt was still engrossed in his conversation with his friends; roaming around the party Rona noticed that even Sacha had become involved in a conversation; suddenly she felt more isolated than she was accustomed to feeling - she wandered through the dense crowd of people, the champagne making her head resonate with oblique grabs of conversation:

"Has anyone seen Alice?"

"Did you see the look on his face? Wasn't it great?"

"Relax, it's not even midnight yet."

"So there's this guy at work . . ."

"I don't mind, I'll drink the V.B."

Rona finished her champagne and was promptly furnished with a bottle of beer by Hannah, who passed like a whirlwind grinning a wide , thin grin with her mouth shut before being pulled aside for a photo, or to talk about photos, or something like that, Rona wasn't sure. Rona finished the bottle of beer; she couldn't tell how long it took but it seemed like a long time. Someone seemed to have put "Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson on repeat, either that or the song was much longer than Rona remembered it being. She waited for an eternity outside the toilet door; a couple of shots of tequila came and went while she was doing so, which didn't help any. With enormous relief she heard the toilet flush - the door sure muffled the sound a lot, she thought. It opened and a young woman came out, looking a little pale. Rona was starting to feel a bit that way herself after the tequila . . .

When she came out of the toilet again she decided just to stick to good old beer for the time being. She grabbed one, taking a while to remember which ones she liked amongst the two-dozen or so bottles nestled in the ice-filled bath. Once she'd decided on one she made her way to the sofa to sit down for a bit, but several other people had had the idea before her. She settled for the floor with a stumble. "Good thing I'm short!" she heard herself giggle, "Means I don't have so far to fall." She heard herself add: "Uh-oh, I think I might be a bit drunk." And then there was what seemed like a lot of laughter.

Hannah came past, or maybe she'd always been there, and said . . . something, Rona knew what the words were but she couldn't quite make sense of them. She had a sudden insight into how she'd feel the next morning, and tried not to panic as she gripped the carpet of Hannah's house. She shut her eyes and lay down, hitting someone's leg on the way.

The person who owned the leg bent down and said, softly: "Rona, honey, Hannah says you can crash here tonight if you want. Does that sound okay?" It was Matt. Rona suddenly noticed that the music had been turned off, and there wasn't as much conversation as before. The lights were very bright.

"I think I'm just gonna go to sleep for a bit" she said weakly.

Matt looked at Hannah. "Yeah, I think it'd be best if she crashed here tonight. Thanks for the party, Hannah, I'm gonna call a cab."