out before Sasha sees me. Apart from the fact she’ll accuse me of gatecrashing, I know for a fact that she’ll never forgive me for seeing her humiliation and what happened to her precious party. As I grab hold of Seth to tell him that I’m going to have to go, I spot a security box on the wall behind him.
‘Is that a burglar alarm?’ I yell. He nods, distractedly. I’ve just had a brilliant idea. If the alarm goes off everyone will leave the house. ‘Can you set it off?’ I ask him.
‘I think so,’ he says and starts fiddling with the buttons. I go into the sitting room and locate the source of the loud music, then turn it off. There’s an awful few moments when everyone turns and stares at me and I just want the floor to open up and swallow me. Then the alarm goes off in thesilence and everyone jumps, but nobody makes a dash for the door. Instead the racket seems to make them even more excited. What was I expecting? That they’d think it was a fire alarm and all file out neatly like at school? I’m definitely losing it, but it does give me another idea.
‘Fire!’ I yell at the top of my voice, but nobody takes any notice.
Then Seth sticks his head round the door and yells at the top of his voice, ‘POLICE!’ It certainly does the trick and the cry of ‘Police!’ goes up everywhere, spreading through the house as fast as a socially unacceptable disease. There’s a mad dash for the door with people pushing and shoving, until eventually nearly everyone’s gone. The burglar alarm stops and there’s an ominous silence.
‘Now why didn’t I think of that?’ I say to Seth.
He looks really miserable. ‘The police will come out. They always do when the alarm goes off. That’s why we’re not supposed to touch it.’
‘Well, it was an emergency,’ I say, looking around the room. And it definitely looks like they’ve been burgled. I can’t believe the extent of the destruction. It’s not just a mess that can be sorted out by a quick tidy-up. Things have been destroyed.
Someone has tried to smash the glass-topped coffee table. It’s got cracks radiating out from the point where it was hit by – I’m guessing – a beer bottle which is lying on the carpet underneath. In fact, someone’s been round the room smashing everything in sight – the glass in the picture frames and the doors of a display cabinet that holds Sasha’s mum’s porcelain figure collection.
As I pick my way through the debris on the floor towards the cabinet, I remember playing in this room with Sasha when we were little. It’s funny, but I never really think about how we were friends when we were little. At some point, when we’d just started school until we were about seven, we were best friends. We’d gaze at the figures for hours, making up names and lives for them. The case was always locked and we weren’t allowed to handle them. Luckily the case is still locked and although most of the figures have fallen over they appear to be undamaged. I can’t remember what happened to make me and Sasha fall out, but I guess that’s just kids for you.
I check the time. It’s just gone eight o’clock. That means Imogen has been on her own (if you don’t count Rory – which I don’t) for over an hour. I really have got to get back. I poke my head round the sitting room door to check that the coast is clear. It is, so I make a dash for it, but before I get to the front door a load of people flood out of the room, the one Stephanie said Sasha had locked herself in. They all spill out into the hallway and before any of them catch sight of me, I dive through the nearest door, which I’m pretty sure is the downstairs loo. Sure enough, it is, but I’m not alone. Henry is leaning into the toilet bowl and Stephanie is perched beside him rubbing his back. I put my fingers to my lips but they’re so wrapped up in themselves that they don’t seem to be bothered that a third person in squashed in there with them. There’s a
‘Is that a burglar alarm?’ I yell. He nods, distractedly. I’ve just had a brilliant idea. If the alarm goes off everyone will leave the house. ‘Can you set it off?’ I ask him.
‘I think so,’ he says and starts fiddling with the buttons. I go into the sitting room and locate the source of the loud music, then turn it off. There’s an awful few moments when everyone turns and stares at me and I just want the floor to open up and swallow me. Then the alarm goes off in thesilence and everyone jumps, but nobody makes a dash for the door. Instead the racket seems to make them even more excited. What was I expecting? That they’d think it was a fire alarm and all file out neatly like at school? I’m definitely losing it, but it does give me another idea.
‘Fire!’ I yell at the top of my voice, but nobody takes any notice.
Then Seth sticks his head round the door and yells at the top of his voice, ‘POLICE!’ It certainly does the trick and the cry of ‘Police!’ goes up everywhere, spreading through the house as fast as a socially unacceptable disease. There’s a mad dash for the door with people pushing and shoving, until eventually nearly everyone’s gone. The burglar alarm stops and there’s an ominous silence.
‘Now why didn’t I think of that?’ I say to Seth.
He looks really miserable. ‘The police will come out. They always do when the alarm goes off. That’s why we’re not supposed to touch it.’
‘Well, it was an emergency,’ I say, looking around the room. And it definitely looks like they’ve been burgled. I can’t believe the extent of the destruction. It’s not just a mess that can be sorted out by a quick tidy-up. Things have been destroyed.
Someone has tried to smash the glass-topped coffee table. It’s got cracks radiating out from the point where it was hit by – I’m guessing – a beer bottle which is lying on the carpet underneath. In fact, someone’s been round the room smashing everything in sight – the glass in the picture frames and the doors of a display cabinet that holds Sasha’s mum’s porcelain figure collection.
As I pick my way through the debris on the floor towards the cabinet, I remember playing in this room with Sasha when we were little. It’s funny, but I never really think about how we were friends when we were little. At some point, when we’d just started school until we were about seven, we were best friends. We’d gaze at the figures for hours, making up names and lives for them. The case was always locked and we weren’t allowed to handle them. Luckily the case is still locked and although most of the figures have fallen over they appear to be undamaged. I can’t remember what happened to make me and Sasha fall out, but I guess that’s just kids for you.
I check the time. It’s just gone eight o’clock. That means Imogen has been on her own (if you don’t count Rory – which I don’t) for over an hour. I really have got to get back. I poke my head round the sitting room door to check that the coast is clear. It is, so I make a dash for it, but before I get to the front door a load of people flood out of the room, the one Stephanie said Sasha had locked herself in. They all spill out into the hallway and before any of them catch sight of me, I dive through the nearest door, which I’m pretty sure is the downstairs loo. Sure enough, it is, but I’m not alone. Henry is leaning into the toilet bowl and Stephanie is perched beside him rubbing his back. I put my fingers to my lips but they’re so wrapped up in themselves that they don’t seem to be bothered that a third person in squashed in there with them. There’s a
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