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For now she was content to sip at her ‘Remy Martin’ and chat to her friends. However, her blue-marble eyes occasionally strayed towards the dance floor below. Elizabeth was explaining she had, had a report that one of her factories in the north was yielding little or no profit. Laughing, Melanie suggested in her cut glass accent, ‘close it! Or at least have your lackeys close it for you.’Offering an alternative Elise tried, ‘couldn’t you cut the employees’ wages?’Elizabeth smiled, ‘not really, most of them are on minimum wage anyhow.’‘Damn Labour Government!’ snorted Elise, ‘in that case, as Mel says close the place down!Elizabeth nodded in agreement and withdrew a cigarette from her gold case. Within an instant a waitress rushed forward and lit it for her before withdrawing from her eyeline. Melanie flickered here eyes at her glass then at the waiter. Grasping what she meant he hurried to the bar and returned with three fresh cognacs. As he deftly placed them beside the distinguished. The doctor hadn't been able to find a thing wrong with her, and had had the nerve to tell her it was her imagination. Last time she'd go there, by God... The gall of that old quack! And she'd been home now for hours, and no sign of Tamera. Where was that girl anyway? She'd promised to stay home today, had promised to come home early last night, in fact-- and what had happened? She'd come home at such a late hour Carla hadn't even heard her, and she'd been sleeping like a log when Carla had to go to that stupid doctor, and now she was gone, not even leaving a note or anything. The young mother held a glass of brandy in her hand, sipping it absently as she fumed, and finally in a huff of disappointment and disgust, she slumped down in an easy chair, feeling lost and morose. Her eyes blurred slightly with tears, and she brushed them away with the back of her hand.Get a hold of yourself, she admonished. You're only feeling sorry for yourself, just like the doctor said, and that's no.
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