Sliding Down the Bank

***

By three o'clock Danielle was coming down from the rush of winning the contract. The singing the paperwork had been a caffeine and cake fuelled blur. But what was confusing her, Lauren had yet to reappear from her lunch. This was both a blessing and worry.

It normally took her a while. There was a running rumour that Lauren slept off lunch in her office before going home for the day. However, she had not yet returned. Danielle had tried her best to mask this. Covering for her boss the best she could.

But the true stories kept circulating.

With the final celebratory handshakes done and the guests departed down the stairs. Danielle could finally breath and popped into the ladies.

A sniff of the air she could smell Lauren before she found her. Danielle paused; the overly potent strong reek of recent cigarettes juxtaposed with a strong body spray filled the almost claustrophobic small toilets. There were only two cubicles, a mirror, and a small sink. The smell of the remnants of smoke was overpowering in the small space, even with the extraction fan buzzing away in the background. The toilet cubicle door on the end was wide open.

Turning the corner, she peered her neck around the frame and winced as she easily saw Lauren. She was slouching he back leaning back against the wall. It was obvious that she was fast asleep, her eyes were firmly shut. Her mouth wide open, she was gently snoring. Her dress was bunched up around her hips and her tights and her urine-stained leopard print knickers were at half-mast down her calf. Her bruised bare knees wide apart just about keeping her balance.

Laurens make up was smudged, her head was twisted, her face tucked into her soft wrinkled double chin and was loudly snoring and dribbling.

"Come on Lauren, let's get you home!" Danielle tried to sound calm and in control.

With a groan she picked up her boss and with dealing with a dead weight of her body slightly over her shoulder, eventually pulled her wet knickers and tights up and then adjusted the dress in an attempt to make her look practically decent. She then dragged and learnt her like a doll against the sink hoping she would stay put as she dived into the cubicle and quickly did her own urgently required business.

Danielle dug into her bag and retrieved her phone and ordered an Uber whilst sitting on the toilet. Then with a deep breath, opened the door and sighed as she again had to pick Lauren up who had slid down on to the floor, her dress riding up her body yet again.

With her hands firmly around her soft hips she slowly got Lauren into the lifts and down to the ground floor.

Lauren whilst being completely uncooperative was whinging and slurring demanding a cigarette as she was posted home for the final time in the back of the Uber.

Danielle went upstairs to write the formal complaint, that should have been written months ago. She felt so much lighter, with a large weight off her shoulders.

Part 2

Like clockwork Lauren Zeehan screwed her face up coughed hard again; she really hated her morning lungs. She knew she just had to be quicker and hurriedly and repeatedly brought the filter to lips and hauled more soothing smoke into them. Their delightful medicine was what they desperately required. Her Craig's looked after her. She exhaled and shook her head, and instantly regretted that movement too. Her morning head was not brilliant one either. She slowly swayed across the room from her bed and fell and slapping her bare sagging bottom down on the fraying maroon leather poof in front of the large pine dressing table. It was as if the world was on her shoulders. She coughed again as she wiggled her hips as she failed to tug at the hem of her slightly damp black silk slip further down her naked thighs. This morning she could not quite get her tights or knickers on and in frustration had given up and concentrated on pouring herself another glass of wine. The tights along with her urine-soaked knickers from the night before were on a discarded pile on the floor.

She had not intended to get them quite so wet, but after a while the idea of moving from her comfortable chair in front of the television when she really needed to the bathroom was soon dismissed. She had got her priorities wrong. Lauren had determined it was only a little dribble, and a couple of times that night it seemed there was nothing to worry about. A minor detail. It did not matter. Her bladder was soon empty, and she was feeling more comfortable. The important detail was that she was not really alone, she had wine and her 'Craigs' beside her for company.

She sat there trying to get comfortable. The surface of the dressing table was scattered with make ups, perfumes, moisturisers, and a recently topped-up wine glass, along with her rather messy cigarette ash. She still assumed one day she will find the time to clean it.

There was a large glass ashtray to her left, completely full of squished extinguished dark brown stained filters covered in bright red lipstick. There was literally no space. Her almost ever-present dangled cigarette did not always reach the ashtray before the ash fell off. It was always more difficult if you had a glass or two of wine once you woke up. The white and black ash fell either over her, the floor, or the table. The finished cigarettes occasionally reached the ashtrays.

Looking in the mirror she practically scared herself again, it should not have been a surprise as her tired bloodshot eyes and now dishevelled face looked back.

Yesterday she had got the mobile hairdresser to come round. As she had not left the house, she paid him a little extra to bring her cigarettes too. It was easier than going out. She could sit there and smoke. Lauren needed her hair purposefully done for today's meeting. Her grey roots had long been starting to show. She had used to get her hair done every week. It was one of the things over time that had slipped. Lauren used her hand to play with her now stylish jet-black hair, slowly twisting her head and watching it sway. It looked fabulous. Pablo had done a wonder job with it. She had celebrated how good she felt and looked by opening a second bottle of wine as soon as he had left that afternoon.

That morning she had tried to have a lie in to recover. Lauren really should have not. She needed several of her morning cigarettes to deal with it. She really did not want to get out of bed, let alone get downstairs to her smoking area. With yet another deep hacking cough, she soon set about her morning routine, between lighting cigarettes and drinking her wine she began layering her face with makeup to make herself look and feel presentable.

It has been a few weeks since the dreaded dismissal letter from EcoTerra and she was now proud. She had already arranged a meeting about a potential new job. She had accidently missed one last week, she did not answer the phone in time. But she had promised to come to this one, she knew she needed to look her best for the meeting. As she could get a better paid one if she looked the part. She sat there doing her practiced morning routine. It was more difficult than she remembered, but she ploughed on gulping wine as she went along. Making sure that she looked stunning. Having her makeup on, along with her cigarette between her lips always made her feel calmer.

This morning she was running later than ever as she had spent most of the night celebrating her gorgeous hair, she had completely forgotten to set her alarm and had slept right through until midday. Waking up feeling horrible. She had rung them and after coughing and a few cigarettes and had apologised. She would be there as soon as she could. She wished that she could stay in bed longer. The world was swaying, and the bed was warm and cosy. The idea of staying in bed was not helped that she was still up drinking and smoking until gone three in the morning. She had an excuse; at that time of night, you could always do with one more cigarette.

Lauren stood up straight wobbled and staggered sideways her high heels getting tangled with her discarded tights, meaning she tripped up over landing with a cry for help and a thud on her knees on the soft plush carpet. She quickly rescued her cigarette before it burnt yet another large a hole in the cream carpet. Then with much grunting she climbed back up and wobbled over to the mirror. Her still perceived to be slim bare legs showing off her best nude Jimmy Choo shoes as she attempted to stand still in front of the mirror. With her rescued cigarette between her now badly chipped nail varnish fingers. She had still meant to go the nail bar. She wore her rather drunk eBay purchase of a size too small but still stylish Prada dress with the zip still halfway up her back, as she could not reach any further. If she could stay still in the mirror, she thought she was looking hot. Lauren Zeehan was back and ready for work and looking amazing.

She slurped down her wine and coughed again before she soon lit another cigarette. Only then did she slowly made her way down the stairs holding desperately on the handrail as to not fall over. Convinced as she loomed over at the top that the stairs got steeper overnight. Certainly, climbing them in the early hours of the morning on her hands and knees was always a mission. Last night they were the north face of the Eiger, it felt to her as if it took ages to reach the summit.

She needed another sit down, another drink, and more importantly another smoke. She paused as she shuffled across the kitchen. She had yet another 'small dribble' in her Prada dress and contemplated if time allowed another visit to the bathroom would be good before she went anywhere. However late she was.

***

Yes, at that moment in time she should have called and got a taxi, but Lauren Zeehan could drive, and as such convinced herself that she was going to drive to the important meeting. Prove she still had it in her. One last big hurrah. She needed to arrive in style. She opened her handbag and with smoke drifting from her nose, pulled out the mints and popped yet another one in her mouth and started sucking. That would help on arrival. She mused as she started chewing. Had to smell good. All about appearance. She again doused herself in more perfume whilst she was there. Before holding her chest as she coughed at the fine particulates in the air.

With a bit of faffing, she eventually got the car started and then sighed. Two things, she could not work the sat nav, it would have helped her find her way. She guessed it was turn right at the end of the driveway. She really could not remember that minor detail. Working the technology that was something her son could easily do. Too many buttons and far too fiddly. It did not help that the words were jumping and dancing on the screen. She had forgot to put her glasses on. Secondly looking ahead to the blackness, the garage door was still shut. With much swearing and flustered faffing, she eventually remembered and found the button on the key, and the automated garage door slowly started opening. Maybe the second useful thing her husband had got her.

Blinking hard as the afternoon sunshine blasted through the now open gap, she double checked the gearstick was in drive and not reverse. Having just about remembered that she made that mistake last time she drove anywhere. Then paused as she checked her rear-view mirror, smiled at herself, then got annoyed as her lipstick on her bright red lips had smeared on her brown teeth. With another hacking cough and a gulp, she composed herself before she confidently pushed her Jimmy Choos to the floor and the engine growled as the car jolted and bunny hopped uncontrollably until she remembered to take off the handbrake as it pulled forwards out of the garage.

***

That day Lauren Zeehan never made it to the local Jobcentre in town to sign up for unemployment benefits. They had been badgering her for several days to come in and fill in the forms. They would have got her on the benefits and also helped her apply for several jobs. Lauren had focused on the job's aspect on the phone, less on the fact she was now on benefits. She was annoyed and depressed that even though she felt old, tired and over the hill, she was far too young for pension.

There were a few reasons Lauren never arrived. Firstly, she left the house far too late, for her there had been way too many distractions in the house. The Jobcentre had almost closed for the day as she drove off her driveway. Secondly, after about five minutes of swerving down the road, cars on the opposite side of the road honking their horns defensively as she tried to navigate the straight road, trying to prove to herself that she could still drive perfectly. Just as she knew she could. She decided to celebrate her amazing skills. It was at that moment she focused her whole attention on the important big detail of the unlit cigarette located between her freshly painted red lips. She thought she could multitask as she took her eyes off the road, grabbed from her bag, retrieved, and flicked the gold lighter and her eyes solely concentrated on bright flame lining it up with the white cigarette, and as it blackened and the smoke filled her lungs, momentarily satiating the need for nicotine. With only one hand loosely on the steering wheel she continued to ignore the small detail of driving at fifty around a sharp bend with a speed limit of thirty.

It was really her heavy smoking habit that finally killed her.

By the time her eyes finally focused and looked through the fog of her last exhale and back at the windscreen it was too late, she was upside down, and windscreen was now cracked, and in a mental slow-motion effect, the last action of frantically turning the steering wheel left or right did nothing as the car was already over the bank and tumbling down the hill to the valley below.

Lauren Zeehan would have been devastated to learn the police initially thought she was a prostitute or a madam. The lack of knickers, the partially done up dress, along with the obvious heavy smoking.

As all Lauren Zeehan was trying to do was look and be her best.

Later on, the coroner also later determined that she was probably self-medicating as she was at least five times over the drink drive limit, and that her undiagnosed lung cancer had started spreading.

The End.