It was with a lot of trepidation that Sharon had accepted the invitation to the mid-summers ball at the wealthy Berkshire Estate. She had not seen her friends, or better described as her social circle, in almost three months. In a way she was surprised that they had remembered she even existed after what they saw as her fall from grace.
It had been only a short time after the last high society engagement that she attended that her and her husband Paul had separated. He had become distant and no longer possessed any affection for his wife of seven years when he finally delivered the knockout blow. He was leaving and had already decided that they could not resolve any issues between them.
Sharon had spent the following weeks lost in a sea of despair. Paul had come from a wealthy family and his parents had never approved of Sharon's more modest roots. He had taken her away from her family and friends forcing her to conform to his rich circle of expansive business and social connections. At first she was excited by the lifestyle, she could live a life that few could afford. However it became all too superficial and shallow the further she became embroiled in it.
Her new wealthy friends would throw extravagant parties. She would go shopping to only the most exclusive of boutiques to buy expensive dresses for yet another function. The opulence of her new life had become intoxicating and distracted her from Paul's long stints away from home and the growing rumors of his infidelity.
Paul's departure had hit her like a sledgehammer. Although she knew she could survive on her own, he had after all spent precious little time with her over the last couple of years of their marriage, she found herself in a strange place mentally. Part of her beckoned a return to her much simpler roots, sell up, leave this unhappy place and get back to what she knew. The other half of her had forever been addicted to the extravagance, something which she could not let go of.
It was a shock to see the Berkshire's, life long friends of Paul's family and one of the wealthiest families in the country, still offer her an invitation to their annual ball. It was an even bigger shock that Sharon found herself accepting the gilded letter knowing the evening may prove uncomfortable. With a shot of renewed energy she left the large house that had formed her prison for the last two months and went in search of the perfect dress for the ball.
Sharon found the right dress and now found her feet gracefully climbing the steps at the entrance of the Berkshire's mansion. Two suited door men, resplendent in top hat and tails retrieved her invitation and escorted her to the cloakroom which had been setup just inside the main entrance. A ravishing young girl accepted her heavy fur jacket and politely complimented her on the clinging red dress that she wore underneath.
A mirror near at the end of the counter reflected Sharon's hard won body and exquisite taste in fashion. She was only thirty two, but captured the energy and exuberance of someone much younger, whilst still possessing the grace and dignity of a woman twice her age. She wore a full length lipstick red dress with an alluring yet tasteful part running up her right leg. Her bust was accentuated by the daringly low cut dress, held by two tiny spaghetti straps, and no back whatsoever.
The young girl at the counter smiled again and complimented her as she made a final check of her attire in the mirror. The bright light caught the invariable presence of the expensive diamond and gold jewelry which adorned her wrist, fingers and neck. With a small shot of confidence Sharon strode forward into the open ball room.
The ball room's expanse was impressive, already close to one hundred guests were mingling amongst each other. The impossibly scuff free polished floorboards provided a stark contrast to the sheer white European architecture of the surrounding room. A few indoor plants added to the ambience of the room, the walls heavily adorned by classical art pieces. Sharon had been here before but always found she was awestruck by the utter wealth and luxury which the Berkshire's surrounded themselves with. She gazed around the high set ceiling and the artwork near her, not yet having had opportunity to observe the crowd for anybody she knew.
Suddenly she was made aware of two people standing before her, trying to capture her attention. She turned to find it was the elderly Mr. and Mrs. Berkshire themselves, greeting the guests as they entered the room.
"Ah, Sharon my dear," announced Mrs. Berkshire, the frail old woman giving her a limp embrace before stepping back to her husband's side. "I was afraid you would not be coming tonight. What with all this business between Paul and yourself. It is good to see you here."
The mention of Paul's name brought a bitter taste to Sharon's mouth. It was soon followed by a sense of foreboding, a cringe that he may be in attendance spread through her. She realized that her hosts were now looking at her with a degree of unease because of her delay in replying to their greeting.
"Oh I'm sorry," pleaded Sharon. "It was lovely of you to invite me. I always look forward to the mid-summers ball. It is a highlight of the social calendar."
Mr. Berkshire gave her a suspicious nod. Mrs. Berkshire offered a cursory smile as she so often did. "Well it was nice seeing you again," greeted Mr. Berkshire, his wrinkled face showing no emotion or warmth to Sharon as he stepped past her to speak with another newly arrived guest. Mrs. Berkshire pulled free of his arm momentarily as she walked past.
"Don't worry dear. Plenty of people are looking forward to seeing you again. Don't let them get you down." With that Mrs. Berkshire disappeared behind Sharon, leaving her acutely aware that she was alone, and worse, that everyone knew about her separation.
Sharon stepped forward into the edge of the crowd. A few passing glances were cast in her direction. She tried to dismiss them as nothing but swore conversations stopped as she walked past, and only resumed once she had safely passed by. The atmosphere was unnerving as Sharon approached the bar that had been erected at the edge of the ballroom.
A number of tall glasses of champagne were lined across the bar, Sharon calmly taking one and having a sip hoping the effervescent drink would help sooth her worries. Again she scanned the crowd for familiar faces. There were some, but none that she knew particularly well, and none who even appeared to acknowledge her existence.
Sharon finished her glass of champagne quickly. The slight rush of alcohol gave her a fleeting distraction from her self consciousness and offered her a reason to cross the room before returning to the bar. She fished a second fully charged glass and decided to pace the length of the bar, hoping someone, anyone would invite her into their conversation.
It became apparent to her as she reached the opposite end of the bar that nobody was going to pay her any attention. She stopped and finished her second glass of champagne, clanging it down on the counter to draw a few glances. She smirked at one middle aged man who shook his head at the disturbance she had caused.
With a measured amount of disgust at her treatment, she turned to the young man behind the counter and demanded a fresh glass. He promptly poured her another drink and politely passed it to her, offering her a hint of a smile and rolled his eyes in the general direction of the obstinate man.
Sharon smiled back at the cheek of the tall twenty year old barman. He wore a neatly pressed white shirt and black pants, his well kept short bleach blonde hair framing his natural boyish looks well. She was caught by his intense gaze, complimented by a serious demeanor. Sharon playfully winked at the young man and turned back towards the crowd, a little reassured by his subtle support.
