True Colours by Jeanne Whitmee Page B

social drink. She looked at her boss speculatively. There had to be a snag. Was she about to get the sack? Was business so bad that the boutique was going into bankruptcy? She poured tonic into her glass, took a sip and waited.
    Imogene sloshed a small amount of tonic into her gin and swallowed most of it in one gulp. Sighing deeply, she leaned back in her chair. ‘Ah, that’s better.’ She looked at Katie, her face serious. ‘You’re a good little worker, Katie. I may not always show it but I do appreciate all your hard work.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    ‘And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that we’ve just had our worst week yet.’
    ‘I know we haven’t sold much.’
    ‘That’s the understatement of the year!’ Imogene sighed. ‘We’ve got to the stage when something has to be done or I’m very much afraid we’re going under.’
    ‘I’m really sorry about that.’ Katie took another sip of her drink, wondering what was coming next.
    ‘We’ve been trading at a loss for the past three months now,’ Imogene went on. ‘And I don’t mean peanuts. I’ve just had a bill through from the last buying trip. There was a letter with it. They won’t deliver the stock until they receive payment.’
    ‘Oh dear. I’m sorry.’
    Imogene frowned. ‘For God’s sake stop saying you’re sorry. Yousound like a bloody parrot, Katie. I don’t want your
sympathy
. I want you to come up with some ideas.’
    ‘
Me
?’ Katie stared at her employer. ‘You wouldn’t want to know about any of
my
ideas. You said….’
    ‘Never mind what I said. These are desperate times.’ Imogene blew out her cheeks. ‘Bloody hell, I’ve got to have another drink.’ She picked up her glass and looked at Katie. ‘Another for you?’
    Katie nodded. ‘OK, thanks but just the tonic this time.’ She indicated her still half full glass. Not having eaten much all day the gin was making her head spin a little but it also had the effect of making her more relaxed and confident. Imogene had asked for ideas, well, OK she’d got plenty of those and if Imogene didn’t like them – well,
tough
. It looked as though she was the one in the driving seat at the moment.
    When Imogene was seated again, Katie took a deep breath. ‘I’ll tell you one thing: if the boutique was mine I’d do anything to keep it afloat.’
    Imogene pulled a face. ‘Not
anything
, surely?’ She downed her second double gin without the addition of tonic water and giggled like a schoolgirl. ‘You’re not going to suggest we open the upstairs rooms as a knocking shop, are you?’ She giggled again and hiccupped, so loudly that a few of the other customers turned to look at her.
    Katie was embarrassed. How many glasses of wine had Imogene had before she started on the gin? ‘Of course I’m not,’ she said. ‘What do you take me for?’ She tried not to meet the amused glances of the other drinkers.
    Imogene looked suitably contrite. ‘Now it’s my turn to say sorry, Katie. I’m embarrassing you. Fact is I’ve had nothing to eat all day and I think I’m a tiny bit drunk. Pop inside and get me a packet of crisps, there’s a dear.’
    The crisps seemed to do little to mop up the alcohol Imogene had consumed but she calmed down a little as she munched them. ‘OK, sweetie,’ she said, crumpling the empty packet. ‘Sock it to me. Throw me a life belt.’
    Katie looked doubtful. ‘Maybe you’d feel more like brainstorming tomorrow when you – you’re….’
    ‘Sober?’ Imogene reached out her hand. ‘Believe me, if I can’t seeany light at the end of the tunnel tonight there probably won’t
be
a tomorrow. It’s as bad as that. Just give me something to hang on to, Katie, there’s a love.’ She leaned forward confidentially. ‘Look, I’ll be straight with you; my ex-husband put up the cash to open Fantaisie. He always said I was a fool when it came to running a business and I can’t let him be proved right, can I?’
    Katie looked hopeful. ‘I