Into The Ocean (ch19)

                    start of **INTO  THE  OCEAN**

🌊 A goner. Off the face of the hotel. Phone switched off.  

    As often as not, he found her in the last place he thought she'd be; on one of the couches by the hotel entrance. Shoes were off and resting on top of the bag by her side: hair extension tugged off and poked out from it like some bedraggled albino rat; knees bent up and tucked under the skirt of her dress and toes curled on the edge of her seat to help keep her balance. She looked a sorrowful sight.

    'There you are, ' Neil sighed loudly, feeling part allayed, part annoyed, 'I started to think you must be away to a club or something. What are you doing here?'  Stopping in front of her, he noticed she had her coat on. The fact he had sussed-out her whereabouts rankled her. 

    'I just decided I should go home tonight.' 

    The obvious flew to mind. 'Is your mum okay?' he asked, not quite expecting her reaction.

    Headbutting the arms that crossed over her knees three times, she gave a huge, dramatic sigh of her own, then looked up at him.  'Y'know what? I don't know, and I don't bloody care. Can't I just have a day when something's not about her?'

    Neil stepped to the side, spun round on his heel, pulled up the knees of his trousers and parked himself beside her; must be pent up frustration and the free bar talking.  Although he constantly reminded her that he was there to talk to about her mum, and despite him being what she considered respite from her, she didn't really make mention of what home life entailed, or what she encountered. Carers are allowed off days too, he reasoned; say things they don't mean.

    'Okay, kiddo - spill. What's up?'

    'Does there have to be anything up, can I not just want to go home?'

    'Well, yes. But to try to sneak off and not tell your father first?' he gave a slight, sarky snicker.

    'I'd have called when I got home...' she stated rather limply. Saying goodbye to him had started to make her feel hollow and distant, and tonight she refused to engage with it, and instead whisked it off to her file of avoidance.

    'Uh-huh... and what about the rest of the things in your room, like your new dresses? I mean you've just got your handbag and shoes there.' he said, pointing to them.

    'I dunno, probably just... ' she struggled for an explanation, 'come back for them in the morning.'

    'An hour's drive here and back?  Or was I to take them with me?'  He wasn't buying this; had a hunch that facts still needed unpicking. 'Saskia, what's bothering you... has someone said something?'

      'No! 'I'm okay! I just need... should... go home.'

      'Your not okay, and there's a perfectly decent bed here. Use it, it was expensive enough.' Neil couldn't comprehend this sudden change in her. Getting more frustrated at his stubborn little madam, he rose and grabbed her hand, forcing her to stand, but she jerked it roughly away. 

    'What are you doing? Dad, I've ordered a taxi, it'll be here soon!' 

    Just as determined not to be outdone, Neil approached the bellhop on door duty. Taking out his wallet, he drew out £40 and handed it to him. 'When the taxi for Reymarr arrives, give him this and apologise for any inconvenience.' 

    'Of course, sir,' the boy dutifully replied, keeping hold of the money in his gloved hand. Half of that would make its way into his own pocket once Neil and Saskia left.

    'I don't know what's got into you tonight, but you really don't want to be disturbing your mum at this hour. Grab your shoes and bag.'  This time she didn't object to being tugged along by him.

    Should have waited for the taxi outside, she told herself. What the fuck am I gonna do now?

Neil kept hold of her hand until she was in the lift, and on release she rather immaturely folded her arms in an act of defiance, hitting his elbow with the shoes she was grasping. Staring stonily at her from the vastly mirrored lift sides, her reflection was so wound up he hardly recognised it. Neil made no effort to converse, instead remaining quiet until they stepped out.

    'Come on, I'll see you to your room.'

    'No, I'll manage. Really. You just go to bed,' she told him, with what he hoped was quiet resignation.

    'Are you sure you're okay?'

    'Yes. Honestly.' She started to frantically fish around the contents of her bag, mumbling and cursing quietly, stopping and starting with shakes of the head.  

    'Why don't I come in for a coffee first, till you get settled.' 

    Was he bloody kidding?  She needed to be alone.

    'Christ, I don't need babysitting, I'll go straight to bed like a good little girl!' 

    She was starting to sound acrimonious again. It was like her moodiness was controlled by a switch you wouldn't know whether to flick up or down. Something was very much off and he couldn't quite identify what was causing this character slip. Could the melancholy simply be fuelled by booze? She didn't appear to be that drunk so that was hard to distinguish or conclude, but what else could it be? It still worried him, however, that she may try to take off again; he had no choice but to run that risk. 

    'Okay, then. I'll go. You should feel better once you sleep it off.' Uh-oh, wrong thing to say.

    'Sleep it off?' she retorted. 'Well, that should be a dawdle since I drank like fuck to get annihilated tonight without success, so I've got fuck all to sleep off!' 

    'Why would you want to get that bad?'

    With head turned and eyes cast down the long corridor, she said in quiet mumble, 'I didn't want to, I needed to.'

    'What was that?'

    'Nothing... forget it.'

    'I'm not going to forget it, you've been fine all night and some reason or other—'

    'This is something I've got to face on my own... Dad!'

    'Someone has said something to you, haven't they?' he said in a serious tone. It was personal; had to be the likeliest reason for all this mind-boggling nonsense.

    'Just leave it...please.' 

    She turned and walked towards her door, ready to activate the swipe card, but Neil drew her hand back before contact. If someone had upset his daughter he needed to know.

   'Saskia!?'

   That was it. He'd gone and pushed her to her utmost limit, and any words she was about to drop would be his own fault.  

   'Okay Dad! D'you really want to know?'

   'Yes!' he said sharply. 'Just tell me!'

   'Fine. I will. Earlier on tonight, I walked in on that red... Rottweiler woman snorting a line of coke in the toilets, and before she gave me a chance to just shrug it off, she went off like a tempest in a teapot, taking great delight in telling me that you're partial to a line yourself.  And not only that but you've slept with half the women in London, especially your new employees - including her!' Well, he wanted to know and was taken so far aback he could hardly focus.

    Curling in his bottom lip and licking it, he then let out a sigh of huge disbelief and ran a mortified hand through his mortified hair, cursing Julia under his breath. 'For fuck's sake!'  She'd been rubbing salt in the wound by every dance he gave her, and it was Saskia who'd felt its sting. The brazen bitch.

    'Why didn't you tell me before now?'

    She shrugged. 'Didn't want to spoil your night - everyone's night.' 

    He floundered in the spot where he stood, flummoxed and instantly dry-mouthed. That was the last thing he expected to hear. 

    'Jesus, kiddo, that was ten years ago. I was totally out of it, I'd just split up with Magrette and went off the rails. The cocaine was a... a barrier, blotted out the stupidity of losing her.'

    'It doesn't matter...' she whispered, but he didn't catch it.

    'I can't believe that bloody woman casting up something like that after all these years. I'm sorry, I really am - you didn't need to hear all that muck... '

    'Dad?' Saskia tried to interrupt his explanatory needs, but he continued to ramble on, ashamed and making a complete hash of reasoning until she was forced to shout:

    'No, Dad, no, you don't understand, I'm not disappointed in you, I don't give a shit about you taking cocaine!'  The yell did the trick and he'd instantly clammed up. 'I'm jealous, okay?'

    There. It was out. She said it.

    'Jealous?' His brow furrowed, struggling to fathom this one out. 'Of what...?'

     She turned and swiped-opened her door. 'Jealous of every single one of those women who'd gotten that close with you, wishing it had been me instead.'  

    Neil just stared at her, frozen to the spot. How could she tell him she couldn't help it, that any undertows of logic and reasoning had long been trampled over and she was now only reacting to what was stirring in her stomach, spinning in her head, circling round her heart. 

    Taking a step into her room, she swung round to see the confoundment on Neil's face. 

    'Bet you wished you'd bunged me in that taxi after all, huh?' 

    Gently the door was closed on him. That was that. Her to-do in the toilets with Julia - that she fought to keep in check all night  - ultimately got the better of her.

            end of **Into  The  Ocean**

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Wonderland (part 2 CH18)

      start of  **WONDERLAND** (part two)  

🎉Standing at the bar, Neil saw Saskia return to the hall. She'd been away quite a while, but what did he know about the timings of female toilet-talk? Nonetheless, he was relieved to see her and caught her flick a glance towards him with an added smile. She'd brought about a certain excitability by simply being here, and from the corner of her eye made out him pointing in her direction. 

The vast room was now buzzing. Almost everyone that entered the room had no sooner settled at their table, before eyes were searching, anxious for a look at the Queen Bee. It was so venerating to watch them all mesmerized by her. Some even felt that she had tempered him to the point of being less intense in the office. By and large, she would be under surveillance most of the night. 

      With the bubbles and whisky having well kicked in, Neil stood and scanned his workforce, knowing he would be buggered without them. Loyal, hard workers that rarely caused problems. To whom, at times, he had been disparaging. At Christmas, his generosity folded outwards and diminished his own significance. For one night he was an equal despite, perhaps, him being rigged out in the most expensive suit. Christmas spirit had on him, albeit briefly, the embodiment of altruism.  He'd best soak up this one, undiversified night. 

Hardly a person that invited Saskia to dance was turned down Neil noticed, as he held her under his almost constant watch. It amused him to see the smirk on the faces of some of the great unwashed. Dancing with the boss's daughter, or rather, the boss's exceptionally-beautiful daughter, was a tick on every scale. It was those whose plus-one Neil didn't know that concerned him.  Over the loud music, they would lean in to make small talk in her ear, and for the most part she handled it well, politely thanking them for the dance and heading back to her table. At times he would rip her away from her newly-found friends, for more formal introductions to his own influential ones. 

    She didn't mind - expected it really. Her only bothersome concern was nose-candy Julia, who dominated the dance floor, and always seemed to have something to say to Neil every time she passed his table on route to widdle and take a fresh line. They exchanged the odd glance in passing, but Saskia never saw Neil leaving the room with her. She wasn't sure how she would feel if he had. Doing her best not to show it, the mouthy cow's ripping toilet outburst still bothered her despite her effort to focus solely on the celebrations.

                                    

Alas, the party came to its time-flying, incredulous end with the DJ announcing the last dance - the one where you had to pick your partner carefully; it wouldn't do to festively-offend. On hearing the call, two lads, from different directions, rose to the challenge and meandered through the sea of tables, chairs and fellow last-chancers, trying to get to Saskia, hoping to be that accepted final offer. But a voice behind them cut in.

      'Sorry, guys, but I secured this one earlier on.'  Neil proffered a hand to his daughter and led her to the dance floor. His skin felt cool and soft, and his grip reassuringly strong. 

      Every year, on his request, the Christmas night's music ended with a song of his choice; not a festive one, but one that sailed along with him through his life. Him and his sunken sentiment bursting through but once a year.  Strangely, its words he could almost dedicate to his lost daughter; as if perhaps it was expecting her presence somewhere down the line.  

      Putting her hands on his shoulders, his on her waist, they gently swayed in old-style moon dance, exchanging silly smiles and glances over shoulders as the floor crowded with couples squeezing closer together. Leaning to his ear, she asked in a compelled shouty tone:

    'So... what's with you and the lady in red? She's had you up dancing a lot.'

    Giving a searching peek around him, making sure she and the poor guy she was glued to were swaying out of earshot, he told her,  'That's Julia... she used to work for us. No man refuses her a dance!' He tipped his head in her direction. 'Rottweiler in slingbacks!'

    This made Saskia laugh, and Neil grinned back, warming at this. With eyes that lingered on her inviting features, he leaned towards her ear.  'I am so proud of you. You're easily the prettiest woman here tonight.'

    She raised her brows and stated quite frankly, 'Well, any Dad would have to say that.'

    'No, no. It's nothing to do with the biased-father thing - it just happens to be true.'

    'I think someone's had too many Jack Daniel's.'

    'Oh, come on. You must have felt a flush from all those eyes on you tonight?'

    'That was just everyone wanting a gawp at the boss's daughter.'  It was enriching though, feeling like his little emblem.

     'The boss's daughter...' he repeated. 'I still can't believe it.'            

     Staring at him for no more than a few seconds, a diminutive nod was all she mustered before  downcast eyes tried uselessly to hide the prickly glimmer in them. Drink induced or not, his words made a bolt straight for her heart.

    'Hey?' He stopped and lifted up her chin, wiping the wet from her cheek with his fingertips.  'Awe... come here you soppy thing.' He pulled her forward and rested her head on his chest, with his own head resting down on hers, not giving a shit if mascara stains smudged his shirt. Those long arms folded right round her waist, and a thumb found itself resting on the crisscross side panel of her dress, stroking lightly and comfortingly up and down a window of exposed skin. 

    It was a divine feeling, an unequivocal need to be ensconcing such a precious belonging, knowing that one day he might be all she's got. It was almost cruel that life had passed so long without her.  Under this very dance, he knew there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her.  Closing his eyes, he got lost in the fading moments of the song, singing the words in his head:

                                        ♪'The blame I lay on her......Wonderland.♪' 

    He always believed that in a song you can find the perfect feeling that real life is reluctant to provide, yet here it intensified by having her in his hold.

     The keenly awaited load of netted balloons looking down on the pick and mix of could-be lovers, were on the brink of freedom. The latter part of their dance felt strange, majestic even, and as the music stopped and the glorious shower of balloons and foil ribbons fell to a chorus of Christmas cheer, they freed themselves from their clutch and stood inert.  For a moment, everything disconnected, until she reached out and gently thumbed the lapels of his jacket as he put his hands lightly on her waist.  Foreheads touched, and Saskia looked almost as if she was reluctant to open her eyes. But other couples leaving the floor, popping and kicking a path through the balloons, seemed to jerk her back to the motion-filled here and now.   

    'You okay?' he asked. 

    'I need to go the loo...' she announced to his amusement - always seeming to know how to round off perfect moments, she did.... 

    In the sudden full brightness of the swanky room, he watched her trot off, then turned to eye the utter mess that merry celebration could bring. It would take staff hours before their heads were hitting their pillows. Some clean up operation this would be. The reward would come with all the extras the guests abandoned for staff to take home; everything from money and food, to decorations and Secret Santa gifts, stretching this party even further.

                                                                        

That dissonant sound once the music and racket stops - letting you know how pissed you are by the level of its drone - was buzzing loudly in his head. As much as he couldn't be bothered with the farewells, he wasn't at a point where he was too drunk to happily suffer it out.  It was mostly 'Merry Xmas' wishes and thank you's, and the occasional male idiot with mistletoe who dared under alcohol to coax a kiss from him, to which he sometimes - cheeks only - happily provided.  After twenty minutes, with just a trickle of people around, he realised Saskia hadn't returned.  Probably got caught up saying her own goodbye's.  Glancing over at the table, he saw her bag wasn't there, so therefore must be with her. He'd give it five minutes and then he'd phone her.

                                

          end of **Wonderland** (part two)

Slow Motion (ch17)

         start of  **SLOW MOTION** 

💃 Talking away, the girls searched for a vacant cubicle, finding one each at the same time.  But on pushing the door open, Saskia recoiled. 'Wow!' she said aloud, closing it sharply.  

    Bent over the cistern had been a woman - smartly dressed in a red two-piece suit - snorting cocaine through a cut down straw. Saskia quickly moved along to find another cubicle to use and was surprised to see the snorter still insouciantly hanging around, giving her make up a fresh lick.  She was quite a thickset brunette who looked to be in her forties, and she held Saskia's gaze in the toilet mirror as she went to wash her hands.

     'Eyes popped back in then, have they?' she asked of Saskia, who didn't reply. Claire stood there silent and motionless, and Saskia soon picked up a vibe that they may know each other.  'You can have some if you want... ' The woman offered with a hint of trenchancy and a deliberate sniff.

     'Sorry... not my thing.' Saskia replied, unsure if the offer was meant as sarcasm or to buy her silence - not that she was giving too much of a shit either way.

     'Oh, I see. Lambrusco more your 'thing', eh?' she said, turning to directly face Saskia with pouted lips and raised eyebrows.  Yes, this woman was definitely being sardonic, but before she had the chance to reply and eyeball the snorter back harder, another woman appeared.

     'Julia, there you are. Been looking everywhere for you.'  This Julia had made a beeline for the porcelain before joining the party, through her need to kick-start her night.

     'Just coming, Millie. Little Miss Prettytits here just caught me taking a line. I think it offended her.'

     'Let's just go...' Claire tried to lure her new friend back to the hall.

     'Look!' retorted Saskia. 'I'm not going to pretend I approve, 'cause I don't.' She didn't believe there was even such a thing as recreational weekend boosts from drugs; any time was a needless risk. 'One of my friends fucked up her life through cocaine - that is what you're using, isn't it?' 

    'Ooh! Listen to Little Miss Expert!'

    'You were taking a white powder, you don't need much brains to harbour a guess at what it was, but she was only nineteen when she was hit by a car while off her face on the stuff!'

    'Obviously a silly cow then, wasn't she? Still... that's a poor Little Miss Sorrow tale you've told there. I may cry.'

    Saskia felt a tug at the waist of her dress as Claire tried to forcefully pull her away. But she was now highly irked and in with a cause. Angry at her callous attitude, and pissed off with all the  Little Miss references, it was time to put the quietus on this bitch.

     'Keep up the snorting and mocking all you like. But, sure, my friend was young and stupid, naive and influenced... what's your excuse? I mean... ' Saskia eyed her head to foot and back, with deliberate disparagement in her voice. '... you must be well into your forties. Are you not a bit old to be doing that sort of thing, or does it substitute for what you've not got anymore - like looks?!' 

     The other two women held each other's gaze; both knew how capable Julia was of  hit first - deal with it later.  Julia instantly pressed her forehead against Saskia's. 'Just who the fuck do you think you are!' One nut and Saskia would be down. While Claire was seriously thinking of fetching help, Millie's panic led her to intervene.  'C'mon Julia, it's not worth anything daft.' 

    'That's true,' Claire voiced now, 'don't let it spoil your night, Saskia. Let's go... '

    Taking heed, Saskia went to barge past Julia but she blocked the doorway, denying her exit. Wisely keeping her fists out of it, she had to retaliate for a slur like that.

    'Yeah, Saskia,' Julia mimicked her name with a derisory, wobbly head gesture, 'you don't want to spoil your night with one of the office boys you've no doubt promised to suck off for the free booze and buffet now, do we!'

    This was getting sweeter for Saskia. 'You're wrong... Julia,' (name said with head wobble back).  'I've not been invited here with any office boy, or any friend. I'm actually here with Neil. You know... Mr. Balfour? The man who throws this party every year.'

    Julia frowned. Neither she or Millie could make the connection. 'Pulling waifs in off the street now, is he?'  

    Saskia took delight in clarifying her position, 'I'm his daughter. So in a roundabout way that kind of makes me inviting you here tonight... and I can have you removed in a heartbeat for what you were doing in that cubicle!' 

    The revelation stunned Julia. She had known Neil not to have any family. Her partner - who still works for Balfour Enterprises - must have found the news of his boss's instant daughter too insipid to take home. But the shock that Saskia thought she'd hit her with switched into Julia's glee, as a huge destructive smile spread over her face. She was about to return fire with a mighty weapon.

    'This is the heart of London, darling, it's all caviar and cocaine. And if you don't believe me - ask your father! He's partial to a line himself... oh, and he's also slept with half the women he's hired - including me.'

    'Oh, for fuck's sake!' Millie protested; this had gone too far. Julia could never operate on a level of even fake politeness if she tried; goes straight for the jugular regardless of who you are. Grabbing her motormouth friend by the sleeve of her jacket, she started to pull her out, but not without one parting shot;

    'Oh, by the way - ask him if he remembers the time he snorted a line off my back... I got a bonus for that. Have a nice night, Little Miss Prim!'

 Alone again with Claire, Saskia's brain stuttered for a moment as she stared straight ahead, then dropped her head; stupefied at what had just happened, and struggling to keep tears at bay.

    'Well,' sighed Saskia, 'that's me told then.' She threw her head up, sending a half-smile at Claire who tried to play it down.

    'She's a lying cow, Saskia. Take no notice, she's always been a bitch.'

    As fallacious as it sounded, she knew such a vile diatribe wouldn't be spouted if there was no truth to it, and she knew her new friend wouldn't hurt her with the truth. Saskia nodded and rubbed Claire's shoulder in agreement. 'I won't. And it's best not to mention it to Dad, either.'

    'Of course not,' a wide-eyed Claire promised. 'C'mon, let's get back to the party - keep up the Christmas spirit.'

As they stepped back into the hall, Saskia searched for her father's face and he was happily exchanging man-humour in a group of around six at the bar. She pledged to enjoy herself without letting any scandelous unearthing be the driving force for the night ahead. She would keep a beady eye on Julia (easy to locate in bright red) who was, for now, tucked away in a crowded corner. But Saskia knew she wouldn't be ensconced long before shimmying that fat arse through the seated crowd and be in Neil's company.

              end of  **SLOW  MOTION**

  

Wonderland (pt1) CH16

       start of  **WONDERLAND  (PT1)**

🎄  Saskia had never eaten such delicacies in the whole of her life; hadn't even heard of some of the food Neil ordered.  She joked (he'd hoped) that she thought foie gras was something to do with cars, but he'd cogitated over time she really could, periodically, be a ditzy (dyed) blonde. More expensive menus, she knew, brought about some rare and unique dishes. 

   But at dessert she felt genuinely bad at having to put a spoon through that lacy string dome to get to the violet ice cream floral perfection, and Neil had to draw the line at her wanting to take a picture of it before its upcoming demolishing.  This was the first time she had eaten out anywhere without condiments (in square pots or otherwise) present on the table. It was quite a thrill. Apart from waving her fork inelegantly around in the air, and picking candle wax drips off with her fingernail, she behaved very well for a posh-food novice.

                                                                                

Replete with her posh nosh-up, walking from the restaurant into the main function room was magical; from satiation to delectation. Christmas decorations adorned every wall, window and door.  Helium-filled gold and green balloons wavered  every so often from tables, alongside parades of luxury crackers awaited pulling, their innards - no doubt - destined for the bin. Lit holly boughs draped every wall, helter-skeltered round every pillar, and on every door sat a coruscated wreath.

   The biggest, most impressive tree Saskia had ever clapped eyes on stood proudly in near-symmetrical splendor. She circled it at least ten times to catch its beauty. It was when admiring the huge star-topper that she noticed a net hanging high above holding up a humongous amount of balloons, promising jollity and mirth for later release. The girl was enraptured, near speechless, which pleased Neil immensely. 

   'Wow... this is breathtaking, Dad!' she said, all the while anticipating this particular Christmas night out would be rip-roaringly hard to match. 

   'Isn't it just?' quipped Neil. 'Shows I have a heart at least once a year. C'mon... let's grab a drink before the madding crowd appear!' A top table was reserved for them and a few select others, and while they sat - the only meantime couple in the hall - the hotel caterers and DJ started to prepare for the evening roistering.

   'I'm quite nervous meeting new people,' she blurted out, swigging her champagne far too readily.

   'Oi! Let's not go mental with the drink.' He smiled wryly and took the glass from her hand, laying it in front of her.  A rerun of gig-night would pop up in his memory from time to time, and as much as she had behaved responsibly since, he didn't want to chance a repeat performance. 'We'll wait till after the vultures arrive, then go nuts.'

   'Fair do's... ' she shrugged, willing to exchange glugs for sips meantime.

   With their glasses filled with champagne (he'd be on the JD's soon as his 'table friends' were here) a second time, guests started to ingress almost on the dot. With a free bar all night and travel expenses home already funded to them, they'd be mad not to make the most of it. 

   Saskia felt rather silly standing near the door and greeting the new arrivals beside a waiter and waitress with trays of champagne flutes. 

   'Jesus Christ, Dad, we're not at a wedding... this feels daft!' Saskia whispered between hellos.

   'Shh... we'll just give it half an hour, it's the way things are done.'

   'Yeah, in Henry the bloody Eighth's day maybe! I'm surprised you didn't arrange a fanfare...'

   He clipped her shoe with the side of his, in a signal for her to shut it as they both struggled to contain a laugh. For tonight, at least, there would be no majestic approach; his staff could drop addressing him as sir tonight - most opted for Mr. Balfour. All but a favoured few and the odd brave one would use first name terms.

   As expected, the first festively-draped was a younger bunch; some having brought their change of clothes with them to work, not wanting wasting a moment. Despite not mingling too much with his staff at work, he was still very good at remembering names. 

   'Saskia, this is Alastair, Claire, Rufus - or Rudolf as he's called this time of year - and Emilyne.'

   'Hello,' she smiled pleasantly at them, shaking each hand, not sure if an exchange of words were expected. She felt it weirdly regal and unnecessary but thrilling at the same time.  They grabbed a drink each and settled themselves at the table next to their boss's.  From the corner of her eye, Saskia could see their heads turning her way, and above the girls' shushing she made out:

     'Must take after her mum 'cause she really doesn't look like him, thank God! Mind you, with all that money he was never gonna produce a fugly, was he?'  

     Saskia gave an intentional little cough just to unnerve the boys.  Her own nerves had remarkably waned, swapped with this unique sense of pertinence. Just to rile them a bit further, she turned right round and slowly reached for another glass of champagne, throwing a diminutive smile their way.  It was fun to see them squirm.  

     Within a few minutes, a regular flow of guests started to fill the hall, and Saskia was relieved when Neil suggested she go sit with Claire and the others her age range. Her company was accepted gratefully and with a hint of honour.  

   Falling quickly into the zone, Saskia was sharing interests and laughs (and no doubt, phone numbers); You'd wouldn't think they'd been friends for only one hour as there had initially been a bit of a fear factor when elected to minister the boss's daughter. She could have been a hard-nosed uppity cow, but instead was not filled with anything but a soft curiosity of the people she'd just met. And when she got up with Claire to visit the Ladies, she passed Neil without looking his way, (which made him smile) he wondered if he'd even get to consort with her much tonight. But he was happy to stand aside for now, and simply watch the reaction to his little showpiece. 

                                                                            

       end of  **WONDERLAND** (part one)