‘Yeah, he’s great. I met him when I was travelling in my year out.’
Well, that made sense, thought Maggie. He too had that worldliness about him that Angie had and that the rest of them, there fresh from school, seemed to lack.
‘And is he studying here too?’ Maggie asked, hoping that her questioning sounded more natural than it felt.
‘God, no! He’s just passing through on his way to Thailand.’
‘Ah,’ replied Maggie.
A sense of disappointment settled heavily over her. He had only come to visit Angie and wasn’t staying. Whatever that little frisson between them had been, it was clearly going to amount to nothing. Angie set off again, but after a few steps she stopped and turned back to face Maggie. Her eyes ran up and down her as she weighed something up, and Maggie tried not to feel judged.
‘Actually,’ Angie said after a moment, ‘we were thinking of having a bit of a gathering here tonight. Come if you’re free. Bring a bottle.’
And then she was gone, breezing up the corridor, trailing a silk scarf and the unmistakable smell of patchouli in her wake.
A gathering. What was that? A party? Something else? Maggie hadn’t been invited to either gatherings or parties thus far. She wasn’t really sure what the form was, but she was definitely interested. As soon as she was certain that Angie had gone, she crossed the corridor and knocked lightly on Leon’s door, but there was no answer. She tried again a little louder, but he clearly wasn’t inside. He probably wouldn’t know what Angie meant by a gathering either. His social life wasn’t much better than hers.
As she let herself back into her own room, she decided that she would go whether Leon was invited or not. She’d be able to hear what was going on through her wall in any event, so there would be little chance of getting any work done. And even if Tiger was spoken for, at least she could gaze at him for a bit. There was nothing wrong with that.
She had better buy herself a bottle.
As Maggie had thought, there was no danger of not hearing the gathering once it got underway, and she was ready to join the fun. She had put clean jeans on and a newish top and taken more care than usual over her make-up. The result wasn’t at all bad, she decided as she looked at herself in the mirror.
Now, though, she had to decide how to arrive. By the sound of it, things had spread out from Angie’s room and into the corridor right outside her door. There was music playing and she could hear talking and laughter. It sounded like they were having fun, whoever they were.
However, it was one thing knowing that there was a party to which she was invited happening right outside her room, but it was quite another just opening her door and joining in. She doubted she would know anyone there. The people she had seen from Angie’s sociology course, whilst not looking as bohemian as Angie, were still quite intimidating in their coolness. Maggie refused to be daunted by them, but all the same . . . She really hoped that Leon was out there. It would be okay if she could just go and sit with him. But how could she tell until she opened her door? And once she had done that she could hardly just close it again and slink back into her room, not without provoking some comment or other, when they were literally right outside.
Oh, this was ridiculous. She was an adult. She should just open the door and join in and if she decided it wasn’t for her, then she could wander off to the college bar instead and pretend that that had been her plan all along. She took a deep breath, ran her hands though her hair and pulled her shoulders back. Then she picked up the bottle and opened the door.
There weren’t as many people as she had imagined there would be, based on the volume. A little group of four or five sat on the floor between her room and Leon’s, and Angie was lying on her stomach, her head supported on her hands and her body half-in, half-out of her room. There was no sign of Tiger.
‘Room for a little one?’ Maggie asked, and she dropped to her bottom and sat cross-legged on the floor outside her door. Immediately she twisted the cap on her bottle of Thunderbird and took a swig. Normally she would have brought a glass with her, but she hadn’t wanted to appear prissy. The cheap wine tasted sharp on her tongue, but she could feel the alcohol starting to work almost at once.
‘Absolutely,’ said a boy she hadn’t seen before, and he opened up the little circle so that Maggie wasn’t sitting on top of him.
‘Everyone, this is Maggie,’ said Angie. ‘She’s doing law, though God only knows why anyone would want to.’
‘You do know that the law is a social construct designed to . . .’ began another who was wearing a heavy donkey jacket with a Coal not Dole badge on the lapel. The halls of residence were notoriously warm and he must have been roasting hot dressed up like that, Maggie thought.