I know the answer to this, I honestly do.
Eve rolled her shoulders to try to ease some of the tension that had settled there throughout the course of the day like slowly solidifying concrete. Perhaps she’d slept awkwardly last night, but then didn’t she sleep badly every night? She bit her lip as a sudden blinding flash ricocheted across her vision, accompanied by an icy pain that shot through her skull.
‘So what do you think, Mrs Carpenter?’
‘Hmmm?’
Eve inhaled slowly, hoping to clear her head, but echoes of discomfort remained. She didn’t have time for this, especially not during the highly important half-termly governors’ meeting. There was so much to get through.
‘Mrs Carpenter, I asked if we really should be considering taking on new staff in the next academic year. I mean, it’s already May and the timetable is almost complete. Is it fair to make such drastic changes now?’ It was the condescending tone of Bill Dempsey, a portly fifty-something local businessman who sat on the school’s finance committee.
‘Well …’ Eve rubbed the bridge of her nose to try to disperse the throbbing that was making her eyes water. She lowered her hand and reached for her glass of water. She was probably dehydrated. In fact she was, without a doubt. She hadn’t drunk enough as she’d been rushing round since five that morning – as usual! Her trembling hand knocked against the glass and she watched as it fell in slow motion, emptying its contents all over the papers she’d placed in front of her just half an hour ago. Over her work: her precious document outlining how employing a new alternative learning needs teacher would be the way to raise standards.
‘Fu … lip!’ escaped her lips as she quickly replaced the expletive she would have released had she been elsewhere and in different company.
Horatio Jones, the parent governor to her right, leapt to his feet as the water dripped off the edge of the table and plopped onto the plush beige carpet.
‘Eve, are you all right?’ he asked, brushing off the front of his trousers.
She tore her gaze from him and met the curious stares of the other governors and her senior leadership team. Her deputy head, Amanda Green, was looking at her with concern, but when she met the eyes of her assistant head, Donovan Connelly, she found pure glee. She’d cocked up and he was enjoying every moment of it, like a hyena watching a wounded antelope trying to right itself.
But before she could begin to feel indignant, another flash of agony stabbed her brain like a scalding poker and she gasped.
‘Eve?’ She felt a hand on her shoulder and tried to turn, but even moving her head a fraction made the pain worse and caused more blurry lines to fracture her field of vision. ‘Eve, shall I call an ambulance?’ It was Amanda.
‘No … don’t think so. Be okay … in a minute.’
She blinked and rubbed her eyes, but the room seemed to have been immersed in water and the edges of her vision shimmered as if someone had licked a finger and smudged them, then sprinkled them with glitter. Eve liked glitter; she liked sparkly things.
But not like this.
She squinted but it made no difference.
Something was seriously wrong.
She hoped for a moment that it was actually one of those weird dreams that she had to endure some nights, where any moment she’d find herself totally naked in whole-school assembly. Except for the pasties – what was it with those small flesh-coloured circles and their appearance in her dreams? As if they provided sufficient coverage when everything else was on display! But ever since she’d worn a pair to prom with a strapless dress and the left one had popped out and landed on the dance floor, then got stuck to a sixth-former’s heel, it seemed that she’d never have a nightmare about full humiliating nudity sans pasties again.
She covered her eyes, hoping that a brief reprieve would make it all better. She could hear people breathing, shuffling and clearing their throats, evidently uncomfortable.
I can’t afford to be ill. I’m too busy, have too much to do.
‘We need to get her to the hospital. Pass me my bag, Donovan! Now!’ Amanda took control, coming to her rescue, and Eve sent out a silent thank you for the no-nonsense, practical approach of her deputy.
But as that thought slipped away, the last thing she remembered before she was consumed by darkness was throwing up all over her new – and very expensive – navy and white brogues with the kitten heel, and hearing a barely disguised murmur of joy from Donovan as she slumped in her chair, coffee-tainted drool trickling down her chin.