Page 54 of Mayfair Madame

I’d finally fallen asleep, only to wake an hour later in a cold sweat. The details of the nightmare faded the moment I opened my eyes, but I knew without a doubt I’d been terrified. My heart raced a million miles a minute, and the stench of dirty water filled my nose.

I might have been brave, as everyone kept saying, but I’d been fucking stupid. What the fuck had I been thinking? The guy would have made three of me, yet I dived in without a thought for my own life, to save his.

Josh brought me back to the present.

“Of course. We’ve a couple of cases to look at, but nothing important. We’d best start with coffee.”

I smiled, grateful he wasn’t pushing the issue.

“I’ll get it. You rest your old bones.” I pushed away from the desk, and a wave of dizziness washed over me. My eyes blurred, and bile crept up my throat. Fuck, what was wrong with me?

“Are you okay, Ellie? You don’t look so good.” Josh’s hand landed on my arm.

I shook my head, my eyes finally able to focus on the papers in front of me. “I’m fine. Just tired, like I said.”

But as I walked towards the coffee machine, the room spun, and I stumbled. Tiredness, that was all it was. I’d been tired before. Fuck, I’d been on stakeouts and stayed up for thirty-six hours straight.

The weekend had been exhausting in many ways; it had to be that.

I stood with my eyes closed for a few seconds more until eventually, everything settled, my sight and my stomach.

Perhaps it was the pizza? It’d been a while since I’d eaten that much in one sitting. It was probably that.

I took a steadying breath and survived making coffee for us both.

“Let’s get on.” I smiled, but deep down my stomach roiled. I fought the urge to vomit, and as the day progressed, it became harder to do.

By lunchtime, I couldn’t contain it any longer and ran to the toilets, barely making it in time.

I heaved and wretched, my stomach empty except for the coffee I’d drunk earlier. What the fuck was wrong with me?

My skin felt clammy, hot to the touch. Perspiration wet my brow, but I couldn’t stop the shivers that wracked my body.

Something wasn’t right.

I dialled Josh’s number. “Hey. Where did you get to? One minute you were here. The next you were gone.”

“I’m in the ladies’ loo. I need help.” The phone fell out of my limp fingers to the floor. My arms felt like wet noodles. All mystrength had left me. I leant against the wall of the toilet stall and tried to catch my breath.

Was I having a panic attack, or was it something more? I closed my eyes, bright lights pulsed behind my lids, pain keeping time with each flash.

They flew open as the door banged open, and Josh was on me in an instant.

“I’ve got you. Let’s get you up off this floor.” He bent to lift me, his brawny arms wrapped tightly around me. He half carried me to the sink, and I spluttered as cold water splashed on my face.

“You look terrible. What’s wrong? Does something hurt?”

“Sick,” I croaked. “Feel sick, headache, dizzy.”

I slumped in his arms, feeling worse than I’d felt in a long time.

“We need to get you home.”

“I’m okay.” I tried to stand but my knees buckled.

“Nope. Home time for you, young lady. How did you get here today?”

“Tube, walked.” Why was talking so hard, and why were my words slurred?