Joan Collins. part 1

We both looked up as Joel shot back into the room, closed the door, and stood still for a moment with his back to it. His eyes were shining with excitement. Even with the door shut, you could hear the noise of the party - music, the clinking of glasses, and the drone of voices. Cigar fumes and expensive smelling scent wafted in too, along with the smell of alcohol, and you could hear corks popping, and sudden bursts of laughter. He took a deep breath:

“Joan Collins!”

T looked up and started laughing,

“No way! Really? Fucking hell.”

I was sitting on the bed, trying to put my makeup on

“Can’t we go and look? Just peer through the door? She’s so hilarious.”

I desperately wanted to see what she really looked like.

Joel looked alarmed

“No! We aren’t allowed. In fact I promised mum we’d be gone soon. Are you nearly ready?”

I put the mascara down and took out the eyeliner

“Ten minutes, ok?”

Once he’d gone back out to tell her, I looked at T who was finishing bagging up some grass. It was so cut with other things I wondered if it even looked all that convincing anymore.

“I thought they just went bankrupt or something?”

T. looked at me and shrugged

“They always do this when they have a crisis. It’s a kind of end of the world party. It happens every couple of years.”

I shook my head in disbelief. I was puzzled.


“But it must cost a fortune – the caterers, all that stuff.”

“On tick. The never never. It’s what they do”.

I sat down to put my shoes on. I was kind of sad that I wouldn’t get to see Joan Collins, but I was also pleased we didn’t have to actually go into the room. That would have been truly terrifying – still, I would have liked to peep round the door for a minute, just to see. I looked at myself in the mirror.

“I hope we don’t go far - I can’t actually walk in these shoes”

T. glanced down at my stilettos

“Why the fuck are you wearing them then?”

"Because they make me taller – god!”

I sighed impatiently. How could anyone not understand that?

He laughed

“Short arse”

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Fuck off. I’m not short, I just like being taller.”

I stood up. I was ready to go. T reached for his denim jacket and started to cram some bags in the pockets. He was going to take them off to his girlfriend’s house, to see if he could sell some there.

I looked at my shiny new ring reflected in the mirror, and realised T. hadn’t seen it yet. God it must have been ages since he’d been over. I stuck my hand out at him;

“Look. See what Joe gave me for my birthday? Which you totally forgot by the way. Isn’t it lovely? Got time for a drink with us before you go?”

T put another bag in the inside pocket and looked up,

“Er……..no…… I said I’d shoot off.”

He looked embarrassed and I knew the reason why. His girlfriend didn’t like us much. Nothing was ever said, but there was always an excuse when we invited her places, and so of course T. couldn’t come either. It made things difficult, and I missed him. He still hadn’t said anything about the ring so I tried again

“Look”

“Look at what?”

“The ring you wanker.” I pushed my hand right up against his face, so he couldn’t possibly miss it, “Joel gave it to me”

“Oh – yeah – nice. D’you think Joel would mind if I take these rizlas? There’s another pack in the drawer”

We parted at Joel’s front door and as T. headed off to St. John’s Wood, I think Joel and I both felt a little wistful as we watched his bus disappear. Once we were sitting in the Old Black Lion however, I forgot all about him, as Joel explained his exciting new idea.