Sleep Peacefully by NC Marshall Page A

how competitive she was over which company was
doing better. Usually it had been hers, which I knew was largely due to the
work that she did there. She had written a monthly feature based on the latest
celebrity gossip, and Greg had fallen in love with it, and I suspected, a
little in love with Jess, from the moment she started working for the company.
Her work had been so creative, witty and even humorous at times. It would
always leave you wanting to read more, and she had a lot of followers.
    Lately,
however, Jess’s work had started to slip. Her article was now a lot smaller after
Greg had taken the decision to cut back on its space due to falling sales. Its
reviews were plummeting, and it lacked the depth it had once boasted. It had
become unimaginative and appeared repetitive and dull, losing the flair that
had set her writing apart from other articles in its genre.
    She
had also taken far too much time off work. This was usually due to nursing a
hangover or being simply too tired to be bothered with attending. Even the
times that she was there, she was always running late. Although Greg supported
her in any way he could, I suppose his patience had ultimately worn thin. He
had been left with no choice but to let her go. I thoroughly understood from
his point of view.
    Jess
had continued on with the story of her day. She waved her hands in overly
dramatic gestures, as she called Greg all the names under the sun. The poor guy
didn’t deserve it. All he had ever done was look out for Jess and had given her
opportunities she was oblivious to.
    Vodka
from her now almost empty cup spilled onto the expensive white leather sofa.
She looked down at it, unbothered. I leapt to my feet, searching the kitchen
for a cloth to mop it up, suddenly finding her nonchalant demeanour somewhat
frustrating. I tried to console her in the best way I could, telling her that
she would find something else but that she needed to pull herself together, and
she understood that only she could do that. We also talked about her going to
counselling, a subject that had been mentioned throughout the family on numerous
occasions recently. We were all so concerned about her well-being. She hadn’t
gotten over Dad’s death, that was obvious to see. The way that it had happened,
and the fact that she hadn’t been there when he died would always haunt her.
    The
conversation had ended with her agreeing that counselling would be a good idea.
Although, I didn’t know how much of her willingness was just the drink talking.
I desperately hoped that this wasn’t the case. She had objected to the idea so
many times previously.
    Finally,
Jess stopped crying and calmed down. She had started to look tired, and I could
see her eyes growing heavy. I helped her into the bedroom, and she staggered to
the bed to lie down on her side. I pulled the covers over her and drew down the
blinds to the windows overlooking the city below. The sun was just starting to
set and cast a bright yellow glow across the whole room. The room instantly
darkened from the shade, so I turned on the small bedside lamp. I stood next to
her until her eyes closed; she immediately fell asleep. I went back into the
living room and called Matt on his mobile, explaining what had happened. He was
on his way back from work so I knew he wouldn’t be long. I busied myself
tidying up the messy apartment. I cleaned the kitchen surfaces, then got rid of
the almost empty bottle of vodka that had still been standing on the kitchen
counter. I threw the small amount that was left in it down the sink, then put
the empty glass bottle in the outside recycling bin. It’s not that I was trying
to hide the evidence from Matt, but he didn’t need to witness the extent Jess’s
drinking had reached that day.
    Matt
arrived home soon after and thanked me again for being there. He went into the
bedroom to check on Jess, who was still sleeping deeply. I felt truly sorry for
him, as I knew how much he loved Jess, but she