A woman walks through the crowd; head high, chin up, striding briskly on heels so high they seem an engineering feat. It had been years since she had braved shoes like these. Side stepping through the teetering platters of champagne and hors d’oeuvres, Felicity slips and twists her ankle. Completely thrown out of joint, she makes unnatural angles with her torso and limbs as she falls, bringing down a champagne laden waitress with her. The magnificent smashing sound of champagne glasses echoes through the gala hall like an exclamation mark. A reverberation of goshes and gasps follow.
Felicity’s shock comes in a quick wave of ice hot embarrassment. The position of her fall has landed her like a fish - gasping and flailing; pulling at the hem of her black cocktail dress, so as to conceal the suspender belt creeping up her thigh.
Her leather Chanel handbag lies open like an inverted udder, revealing its content; an ‘objet d’art’ exhibit of human detritus. Through the shards of glass Felicity picks up the pieces; hand sanitizer, make-up compact, dental floss, tweezers, coolmints, a horoscope clipping, a vanity mirror, lubricant, a cheque made out in jaunty writing, a business card from “Toorak Solicitors”, an empty packet of hormone replacement pills, mobile, keys....
“Are you OK Madam? says the voice of the toppled waitress. Can I help?”
“I’m really OK. No one's fault. No cuts...fine thankyou ” explains Felicity in a clipped matter-of-fact voice. There is a flurry of staff with brooms and mops. Felicity is helped to her feet, resting her weight tentatively back on the sprained ankle. She reworks stray silver strands of hair back into her french roll.
“Oh excuse me madam. This must be your wallet too. The fallen waitress picks up the crocodile print purse – open and exposed to reveal a photo a of a young topless man. The passport sized image, slipped over credit cards, smiles back at her from under the wallets clear plastic window; his tanned face and toothy veneered smile are framed by beach curled hair and an exotic pink flower tucked behind one ear.
Felicity snatches the purse, scowling through frozen botoxed eyes, and heads to the sanctuary of the ladies room.
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