Acte 7: Reveling in Perth Ball
My brother obviously had a follower, in the pretty hazel-eyed woman with long curling locks of long black hair who had latched onto him like a lost puppy. She had that kind of looks that made it appeared she was either our age but possibly a bit younger or older.
Hard to say sometimes with an Irish Lass.
Gabrielle was winningly wearing a pretty sheath gown of silver satin with a shimmery floating sapphire-colored silk tulle overlay covering her gowns long skirt.
She wore a pair of diamond earrings set with deep blue sapphires. And a matching bracket dangling from a silver satin gloved wrist.
We sat, drinking and observing, sometimes making what we felt were witty comments over the antics of several of the guests that caught our eyes.
At one point as we all headed out to the amber room to collect another round of drinks, Gabrielle pointed out a table and made a comment over the way the ‘olde bats’ sitting there were behaving like Victorian-era snobs.
We all had a yowl over that when we realized she was talking about the table we should have been seated at.
We returned with our drinks. A scotch whiskey on the rocks for my brother, a glass of white wine for Gabrielle, a goblet of red burgundy for Kathleen, and a rock glass filled old fashion for myself.
After a few sips of scotch for fortification, my brother rose and taking Gabrielle by her gloved hand, led her blithely off to the dance floor.
As soon as he left us, the first two males on our cards invaded our sphere and asked us to dance.
And as Kathleen went off to dance with the “gambler” as I now called him, I whispered to her to watch her earrings and necklace. But she didn’t catch on as to my inside joke.
Months later I showed her the music video Karma Chameleon by Culture Club.
She almost wasn’t amused, but then as I nudged her she actually giggled a little, saying it would have been a free takeaway for him that night all things considered.
So my brother and Kathleen were soon lost to sight amongst the swirling couples dancing to the rather pleasant music.
As for myself, I was now
dancing awkwardly with the bloke wearing the yellow Tartan garb with his formal tux top. His tartan skirt was shorter than mine, wink.