The Magpies Read Free Page B

the same after that, even though it carried on for a couple more hours. Brian and Linda said goodnight and went up to their flat on the top floor. Heather got off with the vampire (and later complained to Kirsty that he had blood-curdling halitosis). Paul got very drunk and threw up in the toilet. Jamie and Kirsty sat and worried about who had called the fire brigade.
    ‘It’s such a stupid, irresponsible thing to do,’ Kirsty said. ‘Somebody could have died in a real fire while they were here. I can’t believe any of our friends would have done it.’
    ‘It must have been someone at the party, though. One of the gatecrashers.’
    ‘But why?’
    ‘I don’t know. For a laugh?’
    ‘Some laugh.’
    They were quiet for a moment.
    ‘So who do you think could have done it?’
    ‘God, Jamie, I really don’t know. I’m too drunk to even think about it.’
    Jamie looked at the floor, deep in thought.
    ‘I’m going to bed,’ said Kirsty, crawling under the quilt. They hadn’t moved their new double bed in yet: just the mattress. She looked up at the high ceiling. Her eyes rolled up into their sockets and she closed them tightly.
    ‘What about the guests?’
    She buried her head under the pillow. ‘I’ll let you chuck them out.’
    ‘Kirsty…’
    But she was already asleep.

Two
    The city opened up before them. From the top of the hill Jamie could see for miles: clusters of tower blocks standing up like chipped stalagmites; patches of parkland and the curve of the Thames; flyovers and bridges and dirt-streaked trains.
    A song came on the radio that reminded Jamie of his first summer in London, after leaving uni. During those heady days – days when the sun’s heat seemed to last all night – Jamie had thought the possibilities that lay before him were infinite. It was almost too overwhelming. He could do anything, be anyone. He was going to make loads of money and become famous, just as soon as he put that brilliant idea for a website into action. In the meantime, life was good. Too good to worry about actually going out and trying to achieve his admittedly-vague ambitions.
    That summer had ended and Jamie had taken a job as a trainee computer technician with ETN. Systems. It would pay the rent on his little flat until he found out what he really wanted to do. He wanted to start his own business or maybe write a screenplay that would transform the British film industry. Now, five years later, he was still working for ETN, but he had been promoted and was earning okay money. The job was boring sometimes, but hey, things could be a lot worse.
    He was twenty-nine years old and he felt like, at last, he was entering the adult world. He was a property owner. There was rumour of a further promotion at work. He and Kirsty had talked about getting married and starting a family, and he could see that happening in the not-too-distant future, when the time was right. The thought of it made him feel light-headed, but it was a welcome sensation. Kirsty wanted the same. She loved children – why else would she work in the children’s ward of a hospital? Some days she would come home in fits of giggles over something one of the children had done or said; sometimes there would be tears. Jamie would hold her while she recounted whatever story she had to tell. Some of the tales were so terribly sad. Jamie, who had never met the children involved or their families, would get upset too. Sometimes, now, Jamie would find himself looking at Kirsty and thinking to himself: she’ll make a great mum. She thought that when he looked at her all he thought about was sex. But half the time he was actually thinking about getting her pregnant.
    Now, he put his arm out of the open window of Paul’s van and tapped along to the music on the radio. His hangover had gone, blown away by the fresh breeze that blew in through the window. The sky was Bondi-blue. The people they passed wore T-shirts and shorts or little summer dresses. There was