Chapter 3

“Hmm… there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with you”, said the young intern, “at least as far as I can tell”. With that he pulled down the x-ray. “I’ll pass this all on to Dr. Lawson, he’s the consultant in charge this evening. If he thinks there’s anything wrong he’ll get in touch with you I’m sure”. He looked down at his clutch of papers. “Ah, we still have the blood tests results to wait for before I can discharge you though”. A friendly smile and he left to help the next unfortunate to be passing through casualty that evening.

Eve sighed. She held a paper cup of luke-warm coffee in her hands. If you could really call it coffee she thought. And if you meant tepid rather than warm, yes, luke-warm coffee it was indeed. Well, it had a better ring to it than tepid faux-coffee she mused. She allowed a smile to grace her lips, the first for a while.

She had felt off-colour all afternoon. It was hard to place what was wrong. It was nothing like a hangover she had ever had before. There was nausea sure, but it came in waves rather than the all-penetrating drone of a hangover. This was most disconcerting.

There was a knock at the door. “Is anybody home?” came a voice from the door.

“Oh, hello Terry, didn’t’ expect to see you here”. Eve winced a smile, “Word spreading already is it?”

“Hardly, Charles called me to tell me the news. He said something about food poisoning and that you had been sent here.”

“That was good of him,” grinned Eve weakly, “at least for now. I’m sure he’ll stick the knife in now I’m away from the office. He’s been looking for a chance to get one over me ever since I took the Amco Case of him”.

Terry looked puzzled. “Really Eve, I think you’ve got him all wrong. When I talked to him last, he was patching together the bundles of one of your cases”. Terry paused. “He really does seem to been looking out for you Eve. Really”.

Eve set down her coffee with a sigh. She could sense that Terry was tense about something. She hated the fact that he would rely on her at a moment like this. She really hadn’t the energy for office politics. Still, she was sure that Charles was up to something. Something devious and underhand no doubt. If only she could put her finger on it.

A rap on the door broke her attention.

“Evelyn Rawlins?” a young woman stood in the doorway. Evelyn didn’t recognise her from earlier, but frankly, she could only half remember getting to the hospital at all.

“Yes?”

“Dr. Lawson just sent me to see you. He apologised for not being able to come himself but was caught up with another patient”. The lady smiled. “I’ve got your blood results here. I’m glad to say that everything seems perfectly normal, no surprises at all. In fact I’d say you were in the rudest of health if you weren’t here”. She beamed a well rehearsed, although not altogether false grin. “You’re free to go whenever you see fit. We’re think you just had a sudden case of food poisoning at worst, or perhaps a touch of over enthusiastic celebrations at best”. A twinkle touched her eye. “Still, either way, your good to go. If there are any more upsets get in touch with your GP, but really, you should be fine”.

“Thank you, that’s great news,” started Eve, ”Pass on my thanks to Dr. Lawson as well. You’ve all been very kind”.

“Our pleasure,” smiled the lady. Then she was gone.

“So, clean bill of health after all, eh?” chuckled Terry. “Come on girl, I’ll get you home”.

Chapter 2

The oak door slammed shut behind her, locking her into a noisy North London street. Eve strapped the helmet tightly onto her head, cringing at the additional pressure on her already tender head. She fumbled at the chinstrap latches and stumbled headlong down the steps, her bicycle in hand.

The traffic was dark and seething. The black cabs swam through the traffic. Fat sharks searching for prey on the banks of London. The red buses whales swallowing small waiting groupings of people wherever they could find them, only to belch them out at their choosen juncture.

Grey smoke grasped at her ankles, burning dust filled her lungs, smattering her face. The roar of the traffic seemed to crescendo as she weaved through the near stationary gridlock. “And all in my condition”, she mused to herself. Still, she felt good to be avoiding the hassle and frustration of driving in London. Once she reached the congestion zone she knew it would be plain sailing all the way to the square mile. It was just getting there that was the problem. She mustered her strength and soldiered onwards.

Flustered but alive she arrived not half an hour later at the great glass doors of her firm's offices, 24 Fleet street, Mercers LLP. Lives had been both squandered and founded upon these gass crags. By their very nature they impressed upon the visitor the sheer scale of Mercers Worldwide. A great international infrastructure of only the very best and brightest, ready to fight your corner- or any corner for that matter- for a small fee of course, but you had to pay for the best these days. Eve had managed to wrangle her place in the firm from over 630 applicants to gain a place here, an achievement of which she was rightly proud. And now, at 27 she was eminently placed amongst her peers for a shot at Partner.

But for that she would need to get it together. No slippage allowed. Certainly no drunken mistakes. Inwardly she cursed herself for her prior clumsiness. She unclipped her helmet and climbed towards the electronically yawning crystal doors.

“Morning Kelly”, said Eve, running a hand through her hair. “Beaten the boss today?”
“As always” smiled Kelly, the elegant entry receptionist. Eve always had a kind word for Kelly. She liked her. But also, you never knew when a Kelly may furbish you with just the right information about an important client seen entering the building. Or what time the different partners had left. Every Kelly had her uses.
Eve flashed a smile. “I'll catch up properly later”.
“O.K. Bye,” but the voice was already following her clicking heels into the elevator.

Eve’s Office looked out over the assorted spires and turrets of the Middle and Inner temple. Beyond them one could make out the London Eye backed against the London Town Hall.

“Morning Eve”, twinkled Charles at the door, ”nice to see you made it in this morning. I always admire a woman with a stomach for a hangover”. He shuffled his papers and turned, ”You’ll have to tell me your secret sometime”. He flashed his trademarked grin at her and swept away. Charles was in IP, Intellectual Property, and it suited him to a tee. He had a flair for drama and overstatement that gave him the debonair affect of a sharp mind with just a hint of legal Maverick. The secretaries loved him.

Eve groaned inwardly. She was going to have to face a day of jokes and quips, not all well meaning, from her fellow at the office. Her stomach twisted in sympathy.

“Still, better faced and finished than not, “ thought Eve.

With that she picked up her latest brief, a thick folder containing, as far as Eve could tell, every piece of Legislation and ill conceived case on the weighty issue of Competition Law every published and marched brazenly towards the photocopier across the office.

Eve boldly strode out of her office. If they were going to make jokes at her expense she was going to make them work for it, it wasn’t like they needed any more ammunition to fire at her. Word of her night’s escapades would already have seeped into the close-knit world of the Mercers Gossipers and Office Politicers. A bead of sweat broke out, almost imperceptibly, on her brow.

As she made it to the middle of the room Eve felt her stomach clench. She stopped and reached out to stable herself on a nearby table. A sharp intake of breath marked her pain.

“Are you ok, Miss Rawlins?”, enquired the seated secretary, an expression of genuine concern etched across her face.

“Yes… yes, quite ok, thank you,” started Eve, trying to smile “Just feeling a bit… um…”.

With that, her knees trembled and her strength left her. Another twist from her stomach left her breathless. She groaned out loud as she grasped at her stomach.

“Perhaps you could copy these papers for me,” slurred Eve, trying to stand tall, “perhaps you could…” With that her eyes rolled back in her head, her hand slid from the table as she slumped limply to the ground.

She could just hear the commotion forming around her as she passed out.

“Eve… Eve?”, Eve opened her eyes to see Charles looking down at her. He was cradling her head in his lap. “Drink this, you’ll feel better,” he said in a concerned tone, “you just fainted, that’s all. Maybe not the iron lady I took you for after all,” a grin played weakly on his lips. He glanced away. Eve followed his gaze.

In the encircling crowd, Eve saw Mr Shankhurst, senior partner in the litigation division. She looked away. “Thank you Charles, but I’m sure I’ll be quite ok, must have been something I ate, that’s all”. She tried to push herself off the floor but her hand slipped awkwardly back. She looked down to see a pool of vomit surrounding her.

“Maybe you should take some time off just until you feel better,” Charles said. Eve looked at him for a second. Charles was one of her chief competitors on the promotions ladder. ”Really, I’ll sort out all this” he said, making a broad circular motion with his hand, “want you back up and fighting as soon as possible”.

“And besides, this will serve as a warning to anyone ordering seafood at Mezzo’s tonight,” he said, slightly louder than was necessary. He glanced down at her, a sly wink dancing in his eye.

The crowd began to mutter and rumble. An ambulance team pushed their way through the onlookers.

“Ok there miss, you’re in good ‘ands now,” came the standard medic response, more a signal to the onlookers that the worst was passed and there was little to see, “we’ll ‘ave you outta here in no time.”

With that the medic reached under her shoulders and lifted her onto a wheelchair that his colleague had unfolded behind her.

Eve looked down, shielding her eyes as she was wheeled from the office stifling a silent sob from her bosom.

Chapter 1

Eve vomited into the sink, her hair unkempt and matted. She peered up at herself to see a bleary, pale reflection staring back at her. She spat a globule of sputum into the yawning plughole. Snippets of muffled conversations half-remembered from the night before poured through her pulsating head.

The nausea was passing: At least the worst of it. She splashed some water on her face and reached for the towel. …Last night? She again stared long and hard at her reflection, pondering this latest wonder. She was not the sort of girl to go gallivanting into the London Undergrowth at a moment’s notice, less still the sort to come back in the state she now found herself in.

Strange.

A shrill tone broke the silence.

“Good morning, Eve Rawlins speaking,” came the conditioned reply. You never knew who would be calling you at this hour of the morning.

“Good to hear you're up,” came the jovial response, “we thought we may have lost you last night”.

“Morning Terry”, Eve relaxed, “ you sound surprisingly brisk. I was just trying to piece together what we got up to last night. I can barely hear myself think without feeling nauseous.”

Silence.

“Must have really been something”. Eve squeezed out a laugh, that even to her ears sounded forced.
“What do you mean what we got up to last night? We got up to nothing. It was you who got up to god only knows what,” chuckled Terry. “One glass of wine and you were quite the self-contained party”.

“Pardon?” exclaimed Eve. “Stop teasing me Terry”. A blush racing up from her breast.

“No, really,” Terry continued, “Jake and I literally sat down for 15 minutes and you were away. Never seen anything quite like it to be quite honest. I was just calling to make sure that you were O.K.”. Underneath the friendly banter a touch of concern began to unravel itself.

Eve hesitated.

“It's just I couldn't help but wonder what had caused such a sudden turn in your mood. You really were chatting with everyone who had the time to look at you. All very pleasant of course, but still... ” the sentence hung abruptly.

“You're not, you know, taking anything at the moment are you Eve?” “I mean, really, I know you took Mark leaving you hard but you could tell me if you were having problems couldn't you Eve?” Terry blurted.

“What!” jumped Eve, “Fuck off Terry, really, Fuck off”.

She was more surprised than irritated. She jabbed the conversation closed and looked up at herself. It was touching really. Terry tried so hard. At every chance he would try to muzzle up to her and ask her about her feelings, her clothes, anything really, just to have a 'chat'. He'd been friendly ever since a Christmas party a few years before when Eve had let herself, intentionally in that case, have a few too many drinks to keep in the spirit of things and made the mistake of chatting a little too openly with Terry. Terry had evidently taken this to mean more that it rightly should and now spent as much time as possible being attentive. Unfortunately for him, this gave Terry air of being a phenomenally well trained and obedient puppy.

Still, one could never have too many admirers mused Eve. She looked up at herself in the mirror and chuckled, “if only Terry could see me now”.