7 CHAPTER SIX

Without much expression visible on her face, she shambled confusingly into the living room. When she entered the living room, it was as if everywhere was lit by horrible fire and the scent of what had happened at the eatery rose in complete jeer, she muttered and stood engrossed, glaring around in anticipation.

As she stood there fumbling, she could not see any trace of Mrs. Pauline; she really need to hear a lot of the story. The woman had retired for the chores at the backyard, like she said earlier; she had a great deal of work to do since she was the only house help still available and most importantly, she had to put food on her master daughter's table since she was the cook. Carly hobbled towards the bar that stood as an attachment to the parlor and stared at the bottle of champagnes and other sort of wine that flooded the bar. She stood at the entrance to the bar glaring around, for a while, her eyes caught the horrid image that stood in front of the bar and something told her that it was she; without life she peered on at the image trying to get the vivid knowledge of what had made her look that way, perhaps it was the melting of her make up when she had cried out of frustration. The dirt clenched tightly on her yellow dress as if in a warm embrace, she was a mess all over and her fancy dress seems a rag now. Her reflection was bad and she bore depression all over.

She glared at the horrid image of her in dismay, and was at a point of crying again, she smoldered, with tears welling up in her eyes. She seems paler than usual and her facial expression bore a hidden ugliness or perhaps hates.

She trailed her finger in the direction of alcoholic drinks after entering the bar. Her gaze seems burning with hatred and anger; yet beautiful. She let her hand fell on a bottle, champagne to be precise.

She grabbed at the bottle in hidden frenzy. She needed to forget everything that was going on in her life right away. She took a glass from its stair like stand and walked slothfully to the centre of the sitting room. She took hold of the cork with an opener and tore it loose without much difficulty. She reached for the glass half way and then hesitates with an unknown sense of shock. She glared away and let the bottle of champagne lay tenderly on her lips. The colorless drink flowed into her open mouth and she held it up without a pause; gulping the liquid like a monkey. At last, she lifted the bottle out of her mouth and began to pant heavily with the aim of letting her heavy burden diminish.

"-all useless," she rants and took a deep slurp from the bottle.

The latter bellowed out of frenzy and resettled the bottle over her mouth, making the liquid flow into her mouth without a pause. She sought for an unseen thing round the room with her new idol still tight inside her mouth; perhaps, washing her sorrows down her throat.

As Carly sat idly savoring her little idol in a frenzy manner, she could see a transfixed figure from the edge of her eyes standing and peering at her in awe, and then the figure crept up to her and shouted out of shock.

"Carly…!" the figure screamed and rushed at her in jiffy.

On seeing the old figure that seem struggling with her, trying to take hold of her most cherished idol, Carly erupted into laughter like an enchanted ghost.

"-oh miss…" she said carelessly.

"My one and only friend." Mrs. Pauline craved in.

Carly laughed out again pointing her unstable hand at the bottle in front of her.

"-that too, is my friend." She chortled and took hold of the bottle trying to take a mouthful once more, but the older woman was not in support of it.

"Give me that, will you!" The old woman took the bottle away from her.

As she took the bottle away, Carly made futile attempt of taking hold of the bottle. She glared hazily round the room and then settled her complicated gaze at the woman who shook with queer sensation suggesting that what Carly had done was abominable. Without any further protest, the woman chose her seat just beside Carly and held her tight in pity.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" the woman sniggered without knowing it.

"Work…?"

Carly repeated quizzically spreading her hazy gaze at the latter as if asking why she had to work.

"There's no work-"

"-why no work?" the woman repeated disdainfully.

"Miss, there's no work!" She placed her head comfortably against the couch and giggled manically.

"-that son of a bitch's claimed all thing." her eyes welled up with hot tears and then slowly drifted to a close.

The sadness in the young lady's voice was felt by the woman, yet she could not understand what she was saying; perhaps the alcohol's started a prank.

"What are you saying, dear?" She inquired from the half-drunk Carly, looking at her closely and carefully. The latter still had her head high against the couch and was calm with her pulse beating carelessly.

She lowered her head slightly so she could see who she was talking to but then she noticed Carly's abdomen expanding and contracting; she was already asleep. She surveyed the latter and could see real agony all over her countenance, she could see white trail of dried up tears that smeared her chick and the redness of her face, which suggest that she had cried a lot. The woman stood up and made Carly lie on the couch with her legs extending to the end and her head to the other end on top of a pillow. She stared at her with a visible compassion, turned and picked up the champagne with the glass advancing towards the kitchen.