Salon | Unzipped: Party girls

They were back together. Kath knew that they would be, it was just a matter of time. Now, two months later, it all seemed like a bad dream, that short time they'd been apart. Flipping back through her journal that she kept under her bed in a shoe box, she was startled to see they'd actually only been broken up 11 days. During that time, she felt every single minute -- no, every second -- of the day. Her heart banged when the phone rang at the office or at the flat: Was it Nigel? Would he come back to her now? Why had this happened? She looked forward to crawling into her single bed at night, trying to put out of her mind the last time she'd seen him, when he had handed her a box of her books, CDs and knickers. But of course, when she closed her eyes, all she did was dream about him.

But now they were back and things were almost the way they used to be. Almost, because Nigel still seemed a bit on edge. It was probably his job, which he told her was "very stressful" lately, everyone pushing and pulling on him, wanting more and more. He was drinking a lot, even for Nigel, who could drink everyone under the table. They never talked about why they had broken up, and Kath didn't ask.

Mum said maybe they needed to get used to each other again. It was strange for Mum to make a comment like this, since she'd always seemed to be against Nigel. But this time, Kath wanted to be smarter. She'd never thought much of Nigel's friends -- they were always loud and lad-ish, talking about this bird's tits and that one's bum -- and so this time around, she'd try to manage it that they didn't spend as much time with them. Nigel was so distracted nowadays that she doubt he even noticed. When she said sweetly that she'd rather stay in with him and watch the telly instead of meeting the group down at the pub, he nodded blankly. They'd get an Indian take-away (always mild, since Nigel had stomach problems) and drink some of his cellared wine, sometimes get a video. It was comfy and pleasant, and they didn't fight as much as they used to.

One Friday evening, about three months after they'd gotten back together, Nigel picked her up after work as he usually did. "There's a party at Trevor and Jane's," he said casually, drumming his hand on the steering wheel, his face red from the reflections of the brake lights in the rush-hour London traffic. "I want to go to it."

Kath hesitated. She didn't like Trevor, or even Jane for that matter; they were older, flashier, and liked to talk about politics, a subject Kath had absolutely no interest in. (She also got the impression they didn't like her as well.) But Nigel had gone to university with them, and, put on the spot, she couldn't think of a good reason not to attend. "Well, all right," she said slowly, with just a little drag in her voice. She put her hand on her stomach and grimaced slightly.

Nigel looked at her curiously. "All right? Got your period, then?"

"Yes," Kath said, "but let's go to Trevor's."

"You don't have to go," Nigel said, accelerating through the cars, weaving in and out as they buzzed along Charing Cross Road. "Don't come if you don't feel well."

"I'll be fine," she said. She leaned over and gave Nigel a kiss on the fold of skin above his tight shirt collar. "Thank you for worrying about me." Nigel, concentrating on the road, patted her knee.

They got there about 10 o'clock, having downed two bottles of wine and eaten some old chips left over from the night before. She did feel a bit sick, actually, and hurriedly drank a glass of gin in Trevor and Jane's fashionable Conran bathroom, painted in bright yellow and royal blue. As it turned out, it wasn't even really a party at all, just some of the gang, all university chums, and their girlfriends and boyfriends. And some woman with fat legs and too short of a skirt, who'd just flown in from America and was drinking champagne and eating crisps, one after another. Gales of laughter erupted from the kitchen, where they were all planted, and Kath leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath. She put on more MAC lipstick that Nigel had bought her and again thought of Mum, telling her to smile since she looked so much prettier that way.

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N E X T+P A G E +| "Oh, Anna ..."