Snippet #2469144

When she awoke the next morning Imogen was stiff and sore. She rolled over in her bed and reached for her phone. No messages, no emails, nothing from George.

Perhaps she was serious about taking a few days. She needs it.

Imogen was never one to linger in bed, not since she had started waking up alone once more. As a student she was always up early doing more work, more research. It wasn’t until she married and Mathieu had kept her in bed that she had learned to enjoy the warmth and comfort of the bed. When he died she had gotten rid of the bed they shared and gone back to her early rising ways. Today though...today she couldn’t bring herself to leave the depths of the blankets.

She laid there, staring at the ceiling.

I should get up, go over the papers I took. I should shower, dress...this will do me no good.

Imogen laid there for a few more minutes before slipping out of the warm blankets. She set about her morning.
**
Hair neatly done, coffee poured and small bowl of fruit in front of her Imogen was ready to get on with her day. She didn’t feel any better but knew that this was better than hiding.

I won’t look at the work until later. Maybe lunch out, shop for a new blouse and pants to replace the ruined ones. Yes that will do.
**
Imogen found the shopping to be dull today. She wandered from boutique to boutique. Nothing caught her eye and in the end she arrived at lunch empty handed.

She sat at her table, two acquaintances with her. Each woman had a glass of wine and they chatted about various frivolous topics. Imogen smiled but offered little in the way of interaction. She ordered a salad for lunch. She lacked an appetite and when it arrived it sat untouched.

“What do you think Imogen?”

“Pardon?” She hadn’t realized that she had let her mind wander. “I am sorry, I was thinking about work. Forgive me.” Her voice came out more formal than normal.

“I was asking about the art gala at the end of the month. I think we should all go.” Melanie eyed Imogen. “Are you okay? You seem distant.” The woman didn’t really care, she just hoped for some piece of gossip on the very private woman.

Imogen smiled politely, “I am fine, a particular problem at work has my attention is all.” She adjusted her napkin on her lap. “I agree and would welcome a gala.”

Melanie sighed. Imogen’s work was hardly gossip worthy. She didn’t understand how she could work with science type things. She prefered to spend her days shopping and at the spa.

“It is settled then. You need a date though.”

Imogen did not let her polite smile fall. “Of course.”

“Oh and not that man you brought to the last one...what was his name....Jacob. Good god was he boring. A librarian? Who has that job nowadays? Are there even books?”

Imogen took a sip of her wine. “He is a colleague and works with research papers.” She didn’t bother to explain the details knowing that the women didn’t care and would not understand.

She lifted her phone. “Excuse me, the time has gone much quicker than I thought. I must go.”

The women exchanged basic pleasantries and Imogen made her exit. She pulled at her scarf as she stepped outside, desperately trying to breathe. She felt stifled and anxious. She hadn’t been this way since the attack, at least not to this extent.

Her feet carried her quickly down the street and she hailed a taxi.

It wasn’t until she was home once again that her heart began to slow. Imogen dropped her purse on the counter. I wonder how George is? I should call her. She quickly shook the thought away. She didn’t do things like that. George liked her privacy and so did Imogen.

Her eyes moved around her apartment.

Date for the gala and then paperwork. Focusing on tasks would help her relax, t let go the stress of the previous day. It was clear that the mission events still had her somewhat shaken.

Grabbing her phone she sat on the couch and began to go through her contacts.

Twenty minutes later she put the phone down in frustration. She didn’t know who to ask to accompany her to the gala. Imogen stood and pulled the files from her bag. She tossed it into the garbage. It too was ruined by dried blood.

A quick change into comfortable clothes and Imogen settled onto the couch to read over the research.