My discomfort, however, was inconsequential compared with Ladbrooke’s. She sat at the table, drinking water out of my coffee mug and looking as if she had just survived a war. It was almost 5:30, but I didn’t have any of the necessary preparation work done for the next day, so I took a couple of aspirin and then sat down with my plan book to get on with things. Folding her arms on the tabletop, Lad lay her head down on them and closed her eyes. She remained like that throughout the time it took me to do the plans. Finally, I rose from the table and went to put my work away. “I need to get something to eat,” I said, as I slid the plan book back into the filing drawer. Ladbrooke straightened up. She rubbed her face and her eyes. “Don’t leave me alone just yet, okay?” She didn’t look up. “This has been a bit too much for me today. I don’t think I’m going to cope with it, not without having a drink.” “Do you want to come with me? I’ve got to get something to eat, because my head is killing me.
