Excerpt: ~~~Almost Like Drowning~~~

Chapter One

TRY NOT TO BREATHE

Izzy woke from her dream like a deep sea diver resurfacing. Every so often she paused once more to reacclimatise before going just a little bit higher and becoming a little more awake. As consciousness finally took proper hold she allowed herself a little wince. Waking from a wonderful dream about a mysterious and handsome man was bad enough; waking to find an equally mysterious but far from handsome man with his arm draped across her stomach was worse. She’d rather suffer the bends.

She opened her eyes for a moment and winced again. Would she ever learn? Well, probably not. Drink too much when lonely, single and depressed at an office party, and this was the consequence; finding herself in a stranger’s bed with the hangover from hell.

She edged herself out from under the sweaty embrace of a rather pasty-looking forearm, trying to keep her eyes shut and praying that the man (Steve? Eric? – she hoped it would not matter that – mortifyingly – she really could not remember if her guesses were even close) was a heavy sleeper. The snoring that had woken her was certainly a good sign, and finally she slithered free, and sat up on the edge of the bed. She had sneaked a peak at the clock and it was early enough that she might just manage to sneak back into the flat without Ben knowing, and avoid the teasing that was the usual finale to a humiliating evening.

As she rapidly gathered her clothes together and scrambled into them, snippets of the night kept coming back to her in snatches, and she stifled a groan as she remembered: Pale-face was the boring friend of one of someone Ben knew through work, so she wasn’t likely to escape detection for long. How drunk had they been? Was there any chance that he would have forgotten who she was if she left without disturbing him?

She hated putting on stale clothes, but showering in someone else’s house was not something she relished at the best of times, least of all when she wanted to make a fast getaway. As she slipped out of the bedroom and let herself out of the front door of the flat, she congratulated herself that, however insane she must have been to sleep with the guy in the first place, at least she didn’t have to face an excruciating post-mortem over breakfast.

*****

Ben quickly set his book down and flipped the light off as he heard Izzy’s key in the lock. He had been accused of being Big Brother often enough – and not always in a good way – to his best friend’s little sister, but no one had to know he’d been restless all night hoping she would get home safe. Least of all Izzy herself.

She crept along the landing and then there was a crash.

“Bugger!”

She had tripped over one of the many piles of stuff she hadn’t managed to fit back into her room after her grand clear up. Ben grinned to himself.

“Good night?” he called, knowing that she would be mortified to think she had woken him up.

“Bugger,” she said again, this time with serious feeling, and then, clearly giving in to the inevitable, she pushed open his bedroom door and continued, “No, it was a crap evening, yes, I slept with someone I don’t even remotely fancy, and no, I really don’t want to talk about it, thanks.”

She flopped down on the edge of the bed, and Ben flipped the light back on to take a good look at her. Always pale, the last few months she had gone from delicately, luminously fair to a ghostly white with dark shadows under her eyes. Her wispy blonde hair was escaping from the utilitarian pony-tail that was her habitual low-maintenance style, and the fronds framing her face emphasised her air of fragility.

Ben wondered if he should try and tease her out of her bad frame of mind like he usually did; generally it cheered her up, though she would never admit it and always gave him grief for being cruel about her disastrous love life; but this morning she looked less angry and more upset than usual and he decided that maybe a little more tact was called for.

“Go to bed,” he told her gently. “I’ll ring in sick for you, run you a bath when you’re more awake, and you can make a miraculous recovery and go into work later.”

The look of relief on her face was adequate reward; as she closed the door behind her, she popped her head back in to add, “Thanks, I owe you,” and she was gone.

Ben stared at the door a few more moments, and then shook his head. One of these days he would get used to the fact that Izzy was now a grown woman and could take care of herself, but old habits die hard and while she would stay out all night without calling he’d probably always worry and always be waiting at home to pick up the pieces.

*****

Chapter Three

SWEETNESS FOLLOWS

Izzy was tapping away at her computer trying to look efficient just in case Kate returned unexpectedly when hands appeared over her head and a parcel was plonked unceremoniously on her keyboard.

“Hey!” she protested, as a series of /////////// appeared on the screen, the corner of the box jabbing the keys, but she couldn’t help grinning as she turned round, pleased that he had remembered.

Ian smirked down at her, his face triumphant. “It’s the best present EVER – no contest,” he told her, jigging up and down like the big kid that he was. “Open it! Open it!”

Izzy couldn’t help being perverse, and inspected the wrapping paper carefully, exclaimed over the designer parcel label, and had Ian almost beside himself with impatience as she carefully slit the sticky tape, ignoring his admonitions to be quick and to rip the paper.

As she slipped the box out, her casual composure slipped. “Jimmy Choo? Ian, what did you get me? Who did you nick it from?” She lowered her voice and looked up at him with concern and wonder.

Ian got access to all sorts of goodies, and a fair few end of season items were spirited away now and then to deserving causes, but the bosses usually got first pick of the footwear and the best labels were always snapped up long before the plebs got a chance to try and pinch a pair. If Kate or Laura, or their superiors, knew... Izzy cast a furtive glance around the office, glad that it was quiet this afternoon and hoping that no one would appear unannounced.

Slowly and reverently she opened the box, lifted the layer of tissue, and let out a gasp of pleasure. The shoes were stunning; a vivid scarlet, just high enough to be sexy, just low enough to be smart, in a classy, not too flashy and (besides the vibrant colour) understated design that wouldn’t broadcast to the world and his dog that they had been filched from work but that would make her look and feel fabulous every time she wore them. She wasn't usually that much of a shoe person, but these were different; the kind of shoes she had always envied and had always known she would never be able to afford.

She carefully lifted them from the box and, slipping her smart but somewhat dowdy sling backs off, slid her feet into first the left and then the right. They were a perfect fit, and Izzy twisted her feet this way and that, admiring them from every angle. Getting to her feet, she sashayed over to one of the many mirrored panels that lined the ultra modern office and looked at the pointy red toes poking out from under her navy slacks. She felt two feet taller, not a mere two inches.

“They’re... they’re amazing... perfect,” she breathed. After a long moment she tore herself away from her reflection to turn to Ian and wrap her arms around him in a long, heartfelt hug.

“You deserve a treat... you need spoiling,” he whispered, unusually serious as he rubbed her back. He drew away and looked into her face, more serious. “Izzy, you need to look after yourself a bit.”

Izzy knew her eyes weren’t entirely dry, and blinked hard at the look of concern in his face. He was usually as self-centred as a gyroscope, much as she enjoyed his company. For him to show such concern... it was touching, but it also made her wonder just how bad she had looked and just how pitiful she must have seemed to inspire this kind of reaction in Ian of all people. Ben had said much the same thing this morning, and Jenn hadn’t had to say anything for her gift of glamorous and fashionable lipstick and expensive perfume to be a hint that wasn’t intended to be subtle.

“Thank you,” she managed to blurt, and then she laughed despite herself at the obvious fear in his face. He could be ultra sweet at times, but the threat of tears was not something he dealt with well, and she could see he had been ready to bolt like a rabbit if she had allowed one to fall. At her laughter relief swept across his features.

“You’re welcome, honey” he told her in an affected American accent, and then added, fluttering his eyelashes, “Now you really owe me a date with your hunky housemate, don’t you?”

Wisely, he scarpered while she was still searching her desk for something to throw, and Izzy thought better of it as she hefted the shoe box in her hands, and laughed to herself. It wasn’t worth the risk of a dint in the box, even if it was only cardboard. Glancing at her reflection once more she grinned with satisfaction. The shoes were gorgeous and, more than that, made her feel gorgeous. She hadn’t even realised that she’d missed feeling this way. But the sentiment behind them was even more precious. For all his faults and annoying habits, Ian tried to be a good friend, and she was deeply touched that he had gone to such lengths to make her happy. It was humbling to know how much her friends worried about her, but wonderfully reassuring to know that they did.

Regretfully she took off the shoes and tucked them back safely into their tissue cocoon, before wrapping the paper around the box and pushing it into a slightly less glamorous carrier than it deserved from the pile of bags in the corner. The least she could do was make sure the gift got safely home without arousing the suspicions of anyone who might want Ian’s head on a platter for letting this season’s shoes be worn on less exalted feet than usual. Even as she returned to her work the mere presence of the box under her desk was enough to make her smile. She’d get plenty of chances to wear them, she would make sure of that, and in the meantime as a talisman against the low spirits that had threatened to overwhelm her all morning they would do a great job right where they were.